We Went: Zion I and Mistah F.A.B. @ Chop Suey
A red-bereted, beaming man with diamond-encrusted glasses stepped onto Chop Suey's stage last night around 11pm and shouted, "ChhhhyeLOWWW!" "ChhhyeLOWWW," the delighted crowd screamed back at Mistah F.A.B. It's no mystery why F.A.B.'s so popular. His swooping, playful, sharp music reminds us of nothing more than driving down a busy California six-lane boulevard on one of those stunningly hot summer days, though our sense of heat and motion might have been coming from the writhing, shimmying, cavorting masses of teenagers surrounding us on the floor at Chop Suey. Get hyphy! Get dumb! We got the sneaking suspicion that we're about four years too old for this, but it was fun anyway. Check out this Imeem video of F.A.B.'s song "Ghost Ride It" to get a better sense of what we're talking about:
Most of the dancing crowd was male, underaged, and there primarily to experience Mistah F.A.B. as evidenced by the mass exodus after his set. Regardless of the diminished crowd, Zion I (amplified and intensified by the guest presence of Deuce Eclipse) lifted the style bar a couple notches with projected video behind them, alternating between looped olive and brown stars flashing around, recorded music videos, and live feed shot from behind the guys on stage. Though this is an old trick, it was still effective. "Fingerpaint" seemed that much more exploratory, trippy, and vaguely spiritual ("The children hold hands under the rainbow/Everywhere we go we bring the same flow") thanks to the atmospheric Alice in Wonderland visuals.
AmpLive did not bring a harp. Actually, he did not even step out from behind the tables once, and it was a little hard to hear the subtler parts of his complex beats. We were hoping for a little more delicacy in the performance of the lovely and spare "Don't Lose Your Head", instead of the crunchy shouts and spinning car crash visuals we got last night. But, the freestyles were ferocious--especially from Deuce Eclipse, who had a JFK-esque drive and a certain compelling depth to his delivery.
Back it up to the openers: Scribes disappointed us with dated, stale Osama bin Laden, "clench your fist like this" lyrics and sorry beats (save one interesting one from Bean One). J. Pinder, on the other hand, brought it 100%; we are more convinced than ever that this hard-spitting, crisp, complex and witty performer is on his way up. He was joined by GMK, and together their energy was remarkably large and in-charge. Maniac Tubman stood behind them, his arms crossed or, alternately, flapping cds like fish gills at his cheeks, for the whole set. He looked a little stoned, as did at least 60% of the people in attendance.
The last word goes to Mistah F.A.B., ever the master of subtle positivity, with this unifying Bay Area sentiment: "I love everybody, never hating like a Nazi." If you don't like Nazis either, you should check out his new album, Da Baydestrian.
