Damian Marley and Nas spoil West London with their roots-rap-reggae collaboration

An unusually low level police presence, a bag search that failed to uncover my hip-flask and an unsighted stumble towards our seats set-up the evening for us. And yes, as we scan the stage through the haze, there is a lot of weed in the air tonight. 

We booked seated tickets in the circle because we’re getting too old to jump around to black power music in the standing section. We needn’t have bothered, people were on their feet before the support acts had even finished.  

Akala

Akala was finishing his set as we arrived; he’s smart, he’s sincere and he’s far too slim for his afro and giant ebony Africa neck piece. What he lacks in stage presence is made up for in ambitious lyrics and delivery. His penultimate performance is a worthy impression of the high-speed rapper Twista, only with thoughtful words. Speed comes at the price of diction but you can tell the meaning is there because he looks serious enough. His final song is something about the children of Iraq, Afghanistan and Brazil. He knows the world he wants to live in and he knows what’s in his way. Good for him. 

David Rodigan

David Rodigan, the reggae genre’s Tim Westwood only likeable, has still got it. He must be in his sixties now, but who cares? He’s one of the best selectas out there. The man loves reggae and he knows how to turn a nodding head crowd into a dancehall rabble. Once we’d risen to give him his signal, he made it seem almost embarrassing to sit down again. Who wants to look like they’re not enjoying themselves? I wonder if he does weddings. His love for reggae is infectious. 

Having spread his reggae-syndrome to the audience, Damien Marley and Nas enter stage left. Their entourage are in the wings, including a very wobbly Amy Winehouse, whilst they take us through tracks that show as where they’ve been, and where they’re going to. 

The highlight of the show really was whole thing. Nas and Marley don’t duet in a traditional way; the music they have made isn’t like the rock-rap combination of Collision Course or that horribly overrated RUN-DMC/Aerosmith union. It’s not a clash of cultures, it’s a meeting of minds. As such, the two offer as much space as they can for each other to shine in their own right. When Nas launches into his own set, Marley leaves the stage. At no point were the two competing for stage supremacy.

Both artists have been around long enough to succumb to nostalgia in their shows. It always amazes me how many people know Illmatic tracks off by heart. The biggest surprise was his delivery of Hate Me Now, the least conscious and relevant track of the night. Still, it was this tune that made me wish I was in the standing section with the masses. Black power fists were replaced by people raising their middle finger in the air. Made You Look almost stole the show, until he delivered One Mic, soulfully with a lone drummer, in a way that made me want to change the world myself. 

Damian killed us all with Welcome to Jamrock and the Exodus sampling Move. He gave us the most wistful moment with a rendition of Could You Be Loved which was a pitch perfect end to the evening. 

A special mention goes out to the flag waver and the backing singers/dancers who will certainly be feeling tired today. 

Distant Relatives works; it’s about a shared heritage in the Motherland. Instead of a celebration of differences, it’s a celebration of what they have in common.  Whether you are born in Queens or Kingston, the struggle is just the same. 

There was a mixed crowd, (dreads, after-work concertgoers, young and old) and I don’t know how many people took home that message. I really don’t think the fall of Babylon is in the best interests of a lot of the audience either. But, it was a riotous show, Distant Relatives sounds like an aggressively joyous album and I, writing this the afternoon after the night before, still feel empowered. 

Distant Relatives is out now on Def Jam, Universal.

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