Wu-Tang Clan [Live Review]

Image From Wu-Tang Clan on Facebook

This was not a reunion tour. Raekwon dropped a mixtape at the beginning of the year, Ghostface has put out two records in two years, RZA just produced a highlight track on the blockbuster Watch The Throne, and against all odds, How High 2 might actually come out this year. The Wu-Tang Clan has been astoundingly resilient to the effects of time and planning. Decades later they earnestly seem like they haven’t gotten tired of each other; not even Elephant 6 could claim such persistent acclimation. “The Rebirth Continues” read the massive W banner behind the stage at Emo’s East - if there ever was a rap collective that didn’t need to advertise a rebirth, it’s the Wu.

In fact it’s barely even the first Wu-Tang show in the calendar year; you may remember the similarly-sold out gig in vanilla Emo’s in December 2010. This was essentially the same show - frontloaded with murky classics from 36 Chambers and riding a high wave of feature-heavy solo-joints and deeper, fan-service selections. It’s almost surreal to see the accumulated mythology of the Wu-Tang Clan’s tendrils on the same stage, even more remarkable that they manage to remember all the verses. In a generation of rappers offering 2-minute clips, phoned-in features, cancelled shows, and a general disregard for showmanship, the Wu-Tang Clan are steadfastly dedicated to their jobs.

As usual they garnered a massive cross-section of Austin show-goers - muscle-shirted hardheads, milquetoast geeks, disaffected hipsters, girlfriends that ranged from totally bought-in to utterly contemptuous - there’s a huge demographic of people whose rap proficiency ends with 36 Chambers, which is an entirely reasonable proposition. It’s hard not to get chills when you hear “The game of chess, is like a swordfight!” it’s also hard not to get chills when your hands are one of a few thousand W’s in the air. Such beguiling cross-cultural appreciation for such inherently masculine music, America’s Favorite Rap Group, “Ice Cream,” “Duel of the Iron Mic,” “M.E.T.H.O.D. Man,” and a jumpy sing-along of “Shimmy Shimmy Ya,” everything was in place. When they closed with “Protect Ya Neck,” they made it out like it was a fetished b-side for the authentic fans, even though they knew full well everyone was going to be shouting along.

“We represent real fuckin’ hip-hop” they claimed towards the end of the set. Such a common, antiquated perspective from the elder generation - it’s easier to let the Wu get away with it because they’re collectively responsible for a helluva lot more important music than, like, Rakim in recent years. Still, as good as Only Built For Cuban Linx Pt. II is, it can almost seem like hip-hop is headed for a generational scrap in a couple years, especially when you count more than one “Lil Wayne Sucks” shirt in the crowd. Elder curmudgeons volleying street-rap threats in the face of a younger, more grounded scene, Das Racist? Drake? Danny Brown? hell, Mac Miller? There’s no doubt they grew up on curved-lip gangsterisms, but the place they’re rapping from is basically gentrified. They don’t do thug rap, because they ain’t thugs, they went to school, they came from middle-class suburbs, they tell stories about relatable realities, not cinematic ones. Girl problems, money issues - suddenly hip-hop isn’t a genre that needs a specific backdrop and its constituents don’t need a fantasy to feel relevant. It’s a its rubbing people like the Wu the wrong way, Common was picking fights with Drake last week.

But it’s hard to furrow at that silly, out-of-touch undertone when it’s so separated from the core of the Wu-Tang touring machine. Everyone’s favorite songs, performed impeccably well, in a sacred environment. The ardency of their fans, how we all did our best to make Emo’s East feel like hallowed ground was probably the most heartwarming, after all, the most lasting touchstone of the Wu is the unbreakable respect they have for one another. They truly seem like brothers, genuinely happy to still exist with each other’s support. When it’s Masta Killa’s turn, its Masta Killa’s turn - everyone backs off and lets him try to shine. The fact that nine people in the context of the volatile, competition-driven hip-hop business have invariably remained on each other’s side is a near-unbelievable feat. The fact that the world still loves them enough to make money off of it is impossible.

Wu-Tang Clan: [facebook]