Nice title for a post, eh? It will make sense if you keep reading.
I bumped into a few friends on Bloor Street after darting around the city on my bike all day Wednesday, and they asked me to join them down at the Blue Moon (725 Queen Street East, Toronto) for a performance by local hip-hop artist Mohamed Ali. While they were walking to their car, I sped across the Don Valley and down Broadview to Queen.
The place was empty when I showed up, save for few local souls watching the NHL playoffs. I could already hear some rappers on the mic warming up in the back behind a big black curtain, so I grabbed a jug of suds and headed into the forbidden zone.
Two very urban looking (hoodies and caps) characters were trading verses back and forth while the sound crew made some last minute adjustments. I slumped into a couch and started to absorb their “sound”. It was dark, punchy and political - it reminded me of the now defunct So Called Artists and their 2001 double-LP, “Paint by Numbers Songs”.
By the time my friends showed up I already had a pint in my belly. The place was still empty. My friends seemed surprised. What do you want for a Wednesday night? I walked out front and noticed a long line waiting to get into The Opera House. It turns out they were waiting to see Atmosphere and Abstract Rude. Hmmm… Two hip-hop shows only two doors apart. What terrible luck for these lads, and all the way from Halifax too.
When it finally became apparent that no one was going to show up for this gig, Mohamed Ali hit the stage and began free-stylin’, asking all eight of us in the audience for subjects to improv from. I threw out “Weapons in Space” and Ali responded with some almost incomprehensible, lightnin’ fast (yet meter-perfect) word-play, slowing it down just enough at the end that I managed to catch a few words about missiles raining down from the heavens.
Gradually people started to wander in. The age group was a perfect match for hip-hop, but none of them appeared to be interested. A cult of fame problem? Perhaps if our skilled rappers were more recognizable these folks would have expressed some interest. Who knows?
No worries - or so the kids say - because Ali and his stage mates took it all in stride. The performers even tossed out some playful quips to see if they could get a rouse, but these folks had their minds on their pool games. They might as well have been in another club.
Mohammad Ali has been working with the Toronto Coalition to Stop the War, The Toronto Haiti Action Committee and the War Resisters Support Campaign for the last couple of years, rappin’ at various events to help get the word out. His style is reaching, dropping rhymes over everything from Hip Hop beats to Jazz, Folk, Blues, Reggaeton, Drum & Bass, Salsa, and the list goes on. Based on a few of his performances that I have seen, I think his strongest writing and delivery is in beat poetry, a genre that still remains under the radar, but just won’t quit. Hey, there are more cafés than ever, right?
In May 2007, he and others in the Canada Haiti Action Network released an urban compilation album featuring some of Canada’s top hip hop artists. The CD was a fundraiser for a S.O.S., a Haitian-based citizens’ watchdog organization. Funds raised go towards S.O.S.’s grassroots education program. He released his first solo CD, a benefit to raise funds and awareness for U.S. soldiers seeking refuge in Canada in August 2007 and took it across Canada in the “Not In Our Names” War Resisters Tour, which brought him and many of the resisters to over a dozen Canadian cities from Ottawa to Vancouver.
After a short break, some political discussion, and a few more jugs-o-suds, our “urban looking” friends took to the stage and introduced themselves as The IMF, aka The Intelligent Motherfuckers. One of The IMF later told me that his mother was not impressed with the name of the group. I am sure she’s proud nonetheless.
While Ali had done his best to warm up the crowd with inclusion, humour, and even some heartfelt pleas for social justice (contained in an excellent piece of beat poetry near the end of his set), The IMF decided that the time for diplomacy was over. It was time to get down wid it! And down wid it they did git!
For the next couple of hours the Blue Moon was hit hard with a kind of rat-a-tat politics that only the best sort of hip-hop can pull off. In a war of words the pen is always mightier than the sword. In hip-hop it’s the mouth vs. militarism.
The “Hermit of the Woods” fired verbal headshots over a bunker of dark beats furiously woven by Andrew Gordon of The Fringes/Second Front. The Hermit’s delivery continued to remind me of the dark and avant-garde stylings of So-called artists. Generally I dislike electronic beats and production, but Gordon’s skills shut me down.
The vocal gymnastics of “EMC” seemed literally impossible. This man has a circus living in his mouth. Breathless beatboxing, turntable trickery, slipery stanzaramas, yeah, dat’s all cool and shit, but all at the same time? What can I say? Outta sight!
EMC was rapping and performing turntable tricks on his raps in real time with the same mouth that delivered them in the first place! Our hooded Hermit kept throwing quips at the pool players behind us that just couldn’t seem to get tuned in. He was grinning from ear to ear as he edged EMC on. These guys were in their element, but apart from the few of us who gathered to listen, no one would ever know.
I don’t know how things were going over at The Opera House, but I’d bet it didn’t hold a candle to the stage at the Blue Moon. Not to worry though, with a little exposure, The IMF is going places. You can’t keep talent like this under wraps for too long - not even in Halifax.
Stay tuned for updates as I post some mp3 offerings I received at this show.
