Back in the Day with Brother Ali

Live! From First Avenue! Brother Ali:: Thursday, 07 September 2006

When I ventured to historic First Avenue to check out the headlining act at the club’s fifth annual Celebration of Hip Hop, I had high expectations. After parking (and being informed that I would be paying upwards of eight dollars to do so), I headed to the front door of the venue, where a crowd of hopeful freestylers stood in a large cipher, spitting rhymes about life. As I made my way inside, a wall of noise battered my senses: a dj was spinning popular hip-hop to a smaller crowd than I expected.

I made my way to the bar to grab a drink and deal with the Cassidy track that was coming out of the speakers. The crowd, although small, was very diverse in age and fashion sense. With its freestyle battles and break-dancing showdowns; the place was like a large block-party, only, uh, indoors.

As I sipped a beer and observed the opening act, a less-than-sober Brother Ali fan stumbled to my side. While spitting on my face, he asked me if I liked Brother Ali. With a short “yeah” from me he decided to go off about how I wasn’t a real fan, especially if this was my first show.

As I’m quite involved in hip-hop, I’d have been stupid not to have heard of Brother Ali: Shadows on the Sun has been widely lauded as one of the best hip-hop albums out of the Twin Cities. Fans call him “The Show Stopper,” because he usually goes on before Slug and steals the show. So, as I said before, my expectations were more then high.

After the opening act and a fifteen-minute break where they announced that Brother Ali would be having a guest DJ, he appeared on stage with an entrance that rivaled Princess Di’s exit. Still, Ali seemed as if he wasn’t an artist above the crowd, but a popular kid in the crowd. Everybody loved this man’s slightly overweight, cocky, albino ass.

With guest dj Ant, (one -half of Atmosphere) behind him, Ali got into his set. Suddenly the stage seemed tiny.. Even while dancing and running everywhere, the big man never seemed winded. It was like he had done this a thousand times—which he has..

A couple songs in, he stopped to talk to the crowd and hype the festival:

“What other city has so many talented motherfuckers? There isn’t one! Me and my buddy Ant over here have traveled the world, and we have seen some wack ass MC’s open for my ass. I’m always confused, like, ‘this the best your motherfucking city has to offer?’ When Wu Tang come to town I Self opens up. That’s what the fuckk I’m saying! Start that fucking beat!!”

He screamed at the crowd like Malcolm X would–with that kind of conviction. When the beat started, he hit every two and four harder then the last with one of the best flows I’ve experienced.

So was it all it was cracked up to be? If it’s the last thing you do in your concertgoing life, see Brother Ali. Period.

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