The Scene – April 26th, Slightly Stoopid and The Roots

The Roots at URI

Captain Kirk, dodging my camera

Yes friends, I went to a hip-hop show on purpose. Those who know me best know that I have had a disdain for all things hip-hop for a very long time. Generally, I would say it comes from how I abhor its violent and materialistic messages, which are much removed from my peace-loving hippie nature. As I’ve gotten older, my musical tastes have broadened, I’ve become much less stubborn and and more open minded to different genres of music. The closest to hip-hop that I listen to would be G. Love and Special Sauce, and only recently (past 6 months) been listing to that cat. Living with my brother, a hip-hop fanatic, for the past few years certainly forced my exposure to rap and hip-hop, and can no longer instantly turn off my eardrums at the sound. In college and beyond I have had the reputation to bring music I dig wherever I go, and hijack the sound system at any given party or BBQ, replacing what ever is playing with something I’d like to hear. The Roots are familiar to me only in name, as many friends have raved about their music for years, professing “Sully, its not like the shit hip-hop you hate, you might like it.” I’m a Libra, stubborn, and I’ve been known to threaten to break knuckles if you try to replace my Beatles or Donovan or any other Folk or Jam band playing in my CD player with hip-hop or rap.

Questlove, Owen and Tariq

Most recently I’ve been exposed to The Roots every night on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon, you know, no one ever told me they actually play instruments, and really, really well. Most of the hip-hop I’ve seen and heard has been so over produced, I’ve felt that the artist getting all the credit really contributed very little other than their raps to the final product thats spat out the radio, and when dragged to one live performance or another my suspicions were confirmed, disdain solidified. If someone had sat me down and said The Roots were more like a jazz rock jam band, with a rapper instead of a lead singer, and more pertinent messages, I probably would have given them more of a listen a dozen years ago. As stated earlier, the 26th was a no show day, and I had it in my head to catch up on blogging, but jumped at the chance to check out another show, regardless of my exhaustion. Knowing full well my brother’s affinity for The Roots (March 3rd: “Hey Tim, you ever hear of a band called The Roots? They were on Jimmy Fallon’s show last night.” “You mean my favorite fucking band ever, wait, what go back, they were the house band for Jimmy Fallon? What? NO, The Roots are NOBODY’S BITCH, you must be wrong”) I made sure to disturb him on the golf course to tell him I snagged him a ticket. Since URI was his alma mater and his familiarity with south county far exceeds mine I forced him into driving, it also gave an opportunity to play some Roots, CDs so I could know a bit before heading to the show. Tim kept raving about “Black Thought” and how he’s quite possibly his favorite MC, sparking the following debate:

Tariq aka Black Thought

Me: “Hmm “Black Thought” doesn’t perform with them on TV, they have an MC named Tariq”
Bro: “Who the fuck is Tariq? Are you sure its The Roots on Jimmy Fallon?”
Me: “Yeah, they always say The Legendary Roots Crew, Questlove is there, they never talk about, or address a “Black Thought”
Bro: “Dude, you are dead wrong, it isn’t The Roots without “Black Thought” and Questlove”
Me: “I think I’d remember a nickname like Black Thought if I’d heard it Tim”
Bro: “It wouldn’t be The Beatles without John Lennon, and its not The Roots without “Black Thought!”

Tim, munchin' out

Tim and Ashley at The Mews

Once at the Mews, we met with the ladies and had some appetizers and brews, grabbed our tickets, and hastily made our way to the Ryan center. Upon trying to enter the Ryan center, I received possibly the biggest reverse sexist move ever, and was told I could not enter with my man-purse. Noticing the six police officers behind me, that the kid taking tickets was about nineteen years old I realized I was right, but probably at the end of a loosing battle I had yet to begin. I huffed “Whatever, I guess I’ll take their shit” and walked back to the car. Tim thanked me, as he knew as well as I that five years ago, I would have started a fucking scene, for now I bide my time, waiting to one day stick it to the man. A few of the women cheered me on as we walked past, at least validating my feelings. Weighing down my pants I loaded it them with my camera, two packs of smokes, two lighters, my antacids, a pack of gum, my keys, my wallet and my cell phone to attempt re-entry. The kid apologized, I knew it wasn’t his fault, just his sexist bosses and told him so, then proceeded to point out to his bosses and the police officers inside the gargantuan suitcases that women were carting in as purses, and how they could easily hide a machete, where my man-bag couldn’t fit a butter knife. Unfortunately I had forgotten my show notebook, so I’m going to be lacking major musical detail in the following.

Slightly Stoopid at URI

Slightly Stoopid's Horns

We could hear that Slightly Stoopid had hit the stage already, and made our way around to the line for the floor, texting the ladies to see where they were. Red-eyed and paranoid Tim thought we wouldn’t get let in for some reason, Ashley came out to meet us in line to show us where the girls had set up. We had general admission seats which allowed us floor access as well as seats if we wished, this proved much handier than had previously been expected. Getting to the floor I was immediately reminded of Sublime by the first track I heard from Slightly Stoopid, with the reggae rock style, it was the first comparison to pop into my head. The crowd went crazy when one of the members said he was born in Warwick, Rhode Island and he knew that we in RI like to puff. They broke into a song about smoking weed, and a haze began to fill the floor. Over the next 15 minutes or so, I was watching out of shape middle aged men chase pot-heads around the floor of the Ryan center. Secretly I was pulling for Stoopid to break into the Benny Hill theme, it would have gone so well with what I was witnessing, but the entertainment value of the shenanigans was lost rapidly as I saw some poor kid get tackled and land face first on the hardwood. I was impressed with the musicianship of Slightly Stoopid, everyone was running around, switching instruments, displaying their versatility. Being a sucker for brass, I was loving the horn section. I managed to get a clip of a sweet guitar riff and some horns before the gestapo security tackle squad tapped me on the shoulder and said no video: 04.26.09 Slightly Stoopid clip

Melissa, Ashley, Myself and Jenna on a smoke break

Not wanting to loose my camera, or unjustly be slammed to the hardwood, causing thousands of dollars in dental damage, by some dude on a power trip, I put the camera away for the time being. I was digging the reggae style tunes, and all the instrumentation, I even enjoyed some of the harder rock songs they played, until the mosh pit got out of control. Security no where to be found now, guys were flailing around and tossing each other into the edges of the crowd with no regard for their surroundings. I saw some girl across the circle catch a fist to the back of the head and drop, then the circle pushed back towards us a bit, once my female friends got nailed by an errant elbow, my brother, some of the other larger guys and I started to build a barricade around the girls and start tossing moshers back into each other, rather than allow them to crack into the women. Stop people from using their phones and cameras enjoying the show, injure the kids smoking a joint, don’t let us to buy booze, but allow a bunch of moronic overly testosteroned college guys knock people out, body slam each other, kick people and raise a raucous. Sometimes I just don’t get authority figures. Slightly Stoopid toned it down a bit and played a slower less rowdy number, everyone started to sway and the haze began to form again. Things weren’t groovy for too long, as they picked up the pace and fists began to fly again. The ladies were not down for another game of dodge the idiot, so we retreated to the stands and snagged a seat. The harder rock numbers were pretty bad ass once I was able to enjoy them and not take on the roll of what a security personnel’s job should be. The five of us reclined and enjoyed the rest of the set in the stands.

Couple taking a train delay nap

Questlove of The Roots

Slightly Stoopid played for probably about two hours, it was a good enjoyable set, but with a weeks worth of work and shows I was exhausted, and didn’t get my dance on as much as I would have liked. I think my whole crew was pretty tired by the end of their set as we all gave a decent round of applause and slumped over waiting for the stage change. In between sets I rounded the ladies up with me to go outside and have a butt, and on the way back in grabbed a popcorn and a Del’s. We waited quite a while finally people started to cheer, and stand up and flood the stage a bit, but alas, they were bringing out a DJ. Melissa was texting with a friend back stage that was doing security, the rumor was the train carrying half The Roots, had broken down. Ten minutes later a mullet ridden announcer came over the PA and reminded us of where the fire exits were, how late the concessions were open, and double stressed the no smoking policy, but made no mention of a train delay, or The Roots at all. If only I tweeted on the go, I’d have known for certain that there was a train delay, but alas I only use it on the web. As the delay lingered, most of the crowd started to loose energy, take to their seats, and some even began to leave the show. Some girls in the upper deck of the area decided they were having a good time no matter what and started to groove: 04.26.2009 Chicks Gettin DOWN

Owen and F. Knuckles

Kirk evades proper photo again

Shortly after watching the girls get down, the house lights dimmed and The Legendary Roots Crew took the stage.  The exhausted audience that remained erupted with a second wind.   Rocking from the start they were surely making up for lost time. I bounded from my seat, determined to get some decent pictures and video clip, after failing to rouse anyone to come along, I went back to the floor by myself. The Roots I recall on stage were Tariq at the mic, Questlove on drums, F. Knuckles on percussion, Owen on bass, Kirk on guitar, and Damon on sousaphone. High engergy all night, the only two stationary were Questlove and F. Knuckles. I pushed my way down front towards stage left, Tariq came out spitting furiously: 04.26.09 The Roots Tariq Spittin’ some Flow

Damon "Tuba Gooding Jr" Bryson

The Roots Rockin' Out

Kirk dips behind Tariq, the camera shy mofo

Amidst the marathons The Roots were running on stage, I tried to at least get a decent picture of each member in attendance. Kirk was the hardest as he didn’t seem to sit still within picture range long enough for my flash to go off, and Questlove and F. Knuckles were pretty far back for my camera. After they finished the first song, I began to question my footwear choice for the evening. Ladies and gentleman, birkenstocks, while dead sexy and stylish, are NOT the best footwear to don when you have floor tickets to The Roots. My feet were taking a serious beating, I’d captured a decent number of pictures, and thought it best to vacate the stage area for some serious Roots fans to get down front. When I got back to the seats everyone with me was bobbing their heads to the tunes, looked to be enjoying it, but also looked sapped for energy. Tim and I figured out at this point that “Black Thought” and Tariq are one in the same, color us both red. Every player on stage was phenomenal, each blowing me away with their skill on their given instrument. As stated before I love me some brass, and I’ve NEVER seen a sousaphone played at a concert before, I was so enthralled with the way Damon was using the brass beast to fill out the low end. Such an interesting sound, I wish more brass sections had sousaphones. In the shadows of the seats the security hardly anywhere to be found, I took this opportunity to snag the next full song on my camera: 4.26.09 The Roots Dueling Drums into Rap into Sousaphone solo

Owen's solo, brining down the house

This one blew me away, with a fantastic drum duel, the entire arena was entranced, the pace, coordination, tone and showmanship couldn’t have been better. Three minutes in, Tariq decided to break the audience hypnosis with “MAKE SOME NOISE,” the crowd obliged. Overall the song had a reggae rhythm once the rest of the band joined F. Knuckles and Questlove, Tariq and Quest traded lyrics on verses. After another three minutes, they let Damon showcase his set of lungs with a core shaking sousaphone solo. Letting each musician solo during different songs, on the following song Owen went ballistic on the bass, the Ryan’s rafters rattled. While I remember Kirk blazing on his guitar during a Guns and Roses cover on what I felt to be his most impressive segment of the evening. Tariq had a killer stage presence all night, rapping and riling up the crowd. The Roots put on a great show, and I was whole heatedly impressed. If the Roots are considered hip-hop, I guess I have to admit there is some pretty good hip-hop out there. Hanley shut it! One word out of you and I’m tying you down, and forcing you to listen to folk, until you admit that there is some pretty good folk out there!