Nas / The Roots review – NY rap legend is in a nostalgic state of mind
Looking out over the audience at the Crystal Palace Bowl, Nas feels moved to reminisce about his first visit to London. It was in 1994, around the time he released his landmark debut album Illmatic; he remembers performing on pirate radio stations and “eating good Jamaican food”. It seems unlikely that he ever thought he’d be back in the capital sharing the stage with a man playing a sousaphone, but such is the power of the Roots Picnic, a US institution for nearly 20 years. Its famously eclectic bill has regularly featured great rappers backed by hip-hop’s premier live band, sousaphone player and all: Lil’ Wayne, the Wu-Tang Clan, Snoop Dogg, Jay-Z.
Before Nas appears at the festival’s first London iteration, the Roots play their own set, augmented by a guest appearance from Common. It plays out almost as one long medley which shifts restlessly between their own back catalogue and old funk, soul and disco covers. They do a killer version of James Brown’s The Payback. Awesomely tight, driven by the relentless crack of drummer Questlove’s snare and heavy on jazzy brass solos, it’s a perfect demonstration of the unique musical space they’ve carved out over the years, somewhere between hip-hop and jam band: the Grateful Dead of rap, if you like.
When Nas takes the stage, the exuberant mood shifts. It’s no less powerful or funk-driven but it is noticeably darker, befitting the grittiness of his rhymes. His set acts like a career retrospective albeit one noticeably bigger on 90s classics – NY State of Mind, Hate Me Now – than more recent material. It fits with his recent activities. Like Questlove, he seems to have taken on the mantle of a musical custodian, helming a series of albums and comics featuring a roll call of legendary rappers, himself included. Moreover, he offers a reminder of how skilled he is as an MC, his rhymes both intricate and densely packed. Behind him, the screens show old photos from the same era as his first London visit, baby-faced, sitting outside the Queensbridge projects. It’s impossible to tell if he still looks the same today – the peak of his baseball cap renders his face a dark shadow – but what comes out of his mouth sounds as vital as ever.
Reporting from The Guardian contributed to this story.
