Poor JAM’N 94.5.
Just a few years ago their Monster Jams were suffering; hip-hop and R&B
fans were lucky if they caught more than one artist with more than two hit
songs. But in 2008 the station staged a commendable comeback with a roaring Summer
Jam line-up and a subsequent pre-Halloween blowout featuring Jay-Z and Lil Wayne,
only for the latter not to show up.
Actually he did
show up. But due to security demands that he be frisked, hip-hop’s most
notorious prima donna told the TD BankNorth Garden – as well as Boston, his fans, and
every hard working person who saved money to buy expensive tickets – to go fuck
themselves. I’ve interviewed Wayne
three times, and this shouldn’t surprise, but for some reason it bothers me.
One source close to the backstage fiasco claimed that homeboy was dusted, and
that would generally be a good excuse for such paranoia, but there’s no excuse
for nearly causing a riot.
As much as I
deplore the mini sluts and their drunken suburban boyfriends who filled the
crowd, I don’t enjoy seeing anyone’s fun crushed. No doubt this was a first
concert for a lot of kids, and I can only hope that they’ll continue supporting
live music after being elbowed by their hip-hop idol. This was a disgrace for
the entire rap establishment, and it shouldn’t be forgotten soon. Wayne didn’t just forget
where he came from, he forgot who helped him get where he’s gotten, and that’s
I’d love to say
that Jay-Z saved the day. After all, Hova did emerge after a hostile wait with
an hour-and-a-half long set stuffed with enough hits to quell both young
materialists and weathered Brooklyn rap
traditionalists such as myself: “What do you want? I got 50 hits or I got 100,”
he said. But a lot of kids didn’t care; one bitch next to my friend complained:
“Who cares about old ass Jay-Z – Wayne
is our rock star.” It’s too bad, really, because Hova might be hip-hop’s last
distinguished gentleman. His soldiering performance this past night was proof
positive that he’s not just the King of New York, but of hip-hop as a whole. He
would never turn his back on fans, and that’s why he’ll be lamping long after Wayne is found overdosed
in a hotel room.
In a collateral
tragedy, Akrobatik and Jadakiss – two talents ten times the size of Lil Wayne –
were backstage. I know the practical answer to this rhetorical gesture, but why
couldn’t they come out and rock? In fact – why aren’t cats like them the ones
getting radio burn and murdering arenas in the first place? Maybe now that Boston’s “number one
place for hip-hop and R&B” has witnessed what a spoiled lil’ shit Weezy
truly is, they won’t beat listeners to death with his superficial
intellectuality. But I’m sure that won’t be the case.