TAMPA –- Say what you will about Kanye West (and hoo boy, the man certainly gets people "saying" things), but the controversial Chicago rapper isn't shy. Or subtle. Or, possibly, sane.
From his braggadocio at awards shows to his best-selling beats, not to mention flapping his yap about hot-button politics, the "Louis Vuitton don" does everything big, brash, bold. And that certainly goes for his live shows, too.
On arguably the biggest bill of the summer –- or at least the biggest bill to feature a randy talking spaceship named Jane -- headliner West, plus three other too-cool hip-hop acts, bounced into Ford Amphitheatre Monday with swagger and sweat to spare. If any of the 9,200 in attendance say they weren't entertained, they're lying.
West digs a big, hot buildup, and he certainly got that. Skateboarding Muslim rapper Lupe Fiasco, West's Windy City protege, opened the night at 6:15 to a small, milling crowd. But the brainy MC quick-lipped his rhymes with panache and pogoing energy. He might be cocky like his mentor (already calling still-fresh songs "Kick, Push" and "Hip-Hop Saved My Life" classics), but he's an original for sure.
Pharrell Williams has made his bazillions as an inventive, meticulous producer. But side project N.E.R.D., the next act, was a chance for him to cut loose and go nuts, unleashing funk-punk scrums "Brain" and "Lapdance" and pulling random fans onstage to freak out. A few cuts into his set, he even invited the cheap-seat throngs to rush forward -- and they did, in a moment of mass mayhem that was chaotically charming (unless, of course, you were security).
Opening with the mad-girl romp "Breakin' Dishes," Barbados native Rihanna strutted about in a pink-and-black one-piece, something Catwoman might buy at Frederick's of Hollywood. On the radio, the young star has rival Beyonce beat, with an endless string of great, catchy hits: "Pon de Replay, "S.O.S." "Umbrella." That said, Rihanna is still years behind B. in stage presence and confidence, a blah performer whose sole move is slowly (if expertly) undulating her tuchus. Her 30-minute set was long enough.
And then, at last, there was Kanye, who not only believes he's the best entertainer in the world, but also fancies himself the next George Lucas. On a spectacularly silly, expensive stage made to look like a desolate lunar landscape, 'Ye hammed it up as a wayward space ranger who has crash-landed in oblivion. His only companion? His spaceship Jane, who turns out to be a lot, ahem, friendlier than her cold, robot voice lets on.
With a full band hidden under all the smokey, flamey FX, Kanye worked the stage all by his lonesome, packaging his songs to tell the sci-fi narrative. The tragic "Through the Wire," about his disfiguring car accident, bled into the resilient "Champion," Kanye's Lazarus story set to a Steely Dan sample.
When Kanye longed for some female companionship, Jane (represented on a giant video screen) turned into a gold-plated stripper. The accompanying song? "Gold Digger." After that: the after-party vamp "Good Life."
For a one-man show, it was impressive, as West worked up a massive sweat spitting hit after hit. The storyline's epic finish featured a prayer (the militaristic oomph of "Jesus Walks"), a memory ("Hey Mama," dedicated to his late mother) and, at last, a happy ending (the full-blown get-down "Stronger").
Is Kanye arrogant? Absolutely. But he's also charming as all get-out. And rest assured he knows he has issues. As he sat on his lonely planet and turned to the heavens, he said, "God, if you get me off this planet, I promise to stop talking s---. And I promise to stop spazzing out at awards show."
Does he mean it? Probably not. But hey, it's a start.
Photo: Getty Images (from Grammy Awards)
Recent Comments