music
If Common was disappointed with the turnout for the first hip-hop show at the John Paul Jones Arena, he did a damn fine job of keeping that to himself. The celebratory exuberance of the Chi-town rap veteran and the emotional intensity of opening act Lupe Fiasco left the JPJ sacrosanct with their musical purity.
 So fresh and so clean-clean: The ever-dapper Common brought Chi-town flavor to the small crowd on-hand at the John Paul Jones Arena. |
Even with the upper sections draped, only the floor came close to capacity, with a paltry smattering across the lower-level risers. But Common created his own energy. Unlike many acts that demand a call-and-response to psyche themselves to perform, Common and his band—a drummer, bassist, pianist and DJ—seemed to have fun no matter what.
Insubstantial responses to typical hip-hop demands of “make some noise” or “throw your hands in the air” didn’t dent the stage ego of a man who’s had a critically-acclaimed-but-not-quite-famous career for going on 15 years now.
Lupe Fiasco, a skateboard-loving emcee also from the Windy City, set the stage for Common with a respectable run-through of tracks from his debut album, Lupe Fiasco’s Food and Liquor. When the DJ brought down the music on a song, Lupe would often keep going, repeating his verses as if parsing their meaning, drunk on his own lyrical prowess.
But while Lupe’s stage presence was captivating, Common showed why he’s the headliner. Throughout his 80-minute set, Common displayed the controlled exaggeration of a talented Broadway actor. His gestures were crisp, and his articulation clean. He breakdanced and he freestyled (complete with references to the Rotunda, Rugby Road and Thomas Jefferson).
“I ain’t afraid to talk about God,” said Common before “Faithful,” but don’t think that his seriousness overwhelmed his sensuality. Stipulating that the girl must be 18, without a boyfriend and able to be “free,” Common selected an audience member who certainly played her role well and willingly. The duo moved through a steamy hip-hop/R&B revue, complete with cartoonish sex simulations during a few bars of R. Kelly’s aptly titled “Bump ’n’ Grind.”
“It’s your world,” intoned Common as the show ended, with each band member taking a bow and walking off stage over the course of five minutes. Though the approach allowed for no encore, the gentle letdown completed the crafted arc of the show. Those of us fortunate enough to attend could exit with that lingering incantation: Indeed, it’s our world.
