As is often the case with “great” albums, it becomes difficult to separate the facts from the overstatement and hyperbole that perniciously find their way into the op-eds and academic vivisections that come around like clockwork should the album endure long enough to have a 10th or 20th anniversary. In the case of Illmatic, Nasir Jones’ 1994 hip-hop classic, the artist himself, who it bears remembering was only 20 years old when the album was released, ascribes the record’s legacy to its unrivalled roster of producers.
Indeed, perusing the production credits of Illmatic is like reading through a who’s who of hip-hop production, with such revered names as DJ Premier and Pete Rock sitting alongside Large Professor and Q-Tip of A Tribe Called Quest. But while Nas may credit the lion’s share of the album’s impact to its dream team of production talent, others, like academic Marc Lamont Hill and fellow musician Alicia Keys, understand that Illmaticwas a seed that grew inside the mind of one teenager from Queensbridge, Queens, who unleashed it as an album of previously unheard-of lyrical grace and thematic complexity.
It’s that humility and graciousness that characterised Nas’ performance at The Forum tonight. The hip-hop icon, now a veteran of show business at 41, displayed an exceptional professionalism as he imbued his performance of Illmatic in its entirety with a palpable energy and dynamism. He commandeered the stage like a boxer letting his opponent know that he had now entered his domain. Nas left a legion of lesser rappers and indeed performers to wilt in his wake as he signed vinyl copies of his debut whilst continuing to spit the imperishable words of ‘The World Is Yours’.
Before he took the stage, the sold-out crowd gathered in the Forum witnessed the Melbourne debut of MC Dusk, whom readers would know by her far more recognisable moniker, Abbie Cornish. Joined by DJ cum hype man DJ Butcher, a visibly nervous Cornish displayed a knack for in-your-face rhyme-spitting, admirably trying to make a name for herself in a genre where authenticity is everything. While Dusk’s inarguably poppy brand of rap music was something of an awkward choice to open for one of the vanguards of ‘hip hop in its essence and real’, she did not falter and was adamant about getting a supportive but disinterested crowd moving.
Following a moment of darkness, the Forum came to life with a lightning bolt of city soundscapes and urban visions. As a New York City subway train zoomed unto infinity on a screen behind the one and only DJ Green Lantern, whose decks sat atop a glowing Nas logo, feet began to move and the front row came into intimate contact with the crowd barricade. Thick plumes of weed smoke ascended above the crowd as Nas unassumingly crept onto the stage amid the thumping, unyielding beat of ‘New York State of Mind’. Bodies moved and heads began to nod – this is hip-hop.
As Nas worked his way through his timeless hip-hop totem, the album that Clipse’s No Malice famously described as the embodiment of “everything that was right with hip-hop”, he filled the interim moments with genuinely funny and charming stage banter. Suggesting that the one fan who thought it sporting to throw a joint on to the stage opt for a bigger one next time. “Don’t throw a little tiny one, go for a big motherfukker,” Nas said, jokingly chiding the fan. “Don’t worry, we’ll smoke up later.” When he wasn’t joking around or shaking hands, he was reflecting.
“20 years, man. Not many artists get to tour an album they released 20 years ago, it’s amazing. It feels like yesterday,” he remarked early in the show, later recounting the story of what brought him to Australia. “I was sitting in my crib, trying to write some new shyt, looking for inspiration, thinking to myself: ‘Everything’s been done, music is dead then it’s alive and then it’s dead again, US police are out of their minds.’ Then I got a call, ‘Yo, Nas, we want you come Down Un-duh to celebrate Illmatic, so get your black ass on a plane,’ and that’s what I did.”
Having concluded the celebration with a electrifying rendition of ‘It Ain’t Hard to Tell’, which he prefaced with a tribute to Michael Jackson, whom the track samples, Nas ventured forward with a journey through his extensive and renowned discography, beginning with ‘The Message’, the opening track from his Illmaticfollow-up, It Was Written. He followed through with the mafioso dream haze of ‘Street Dreams’, the utopian call to arms of ‘If I Ruled the World’, the youthful rallying cry of ‘I Can’, through to a somber, powerful closer with ‘Stay’. Afterwards, the icon remained on the stage, offering a simple but genuine “Thank-you very much” to a crowd that was equally grateful.