Rakim Show - Sonar Club, Baltimore 6/14/06
Wednesday, June 14, 2006 was the night many lives would alter like the stages of Alchemy. A glow of incandescence would rock Club Sonars, Baltimore, MD.
The night began with opening acts many people wish never existed. Upon arriving at the club with an unexplainable excitement rattling at my finger tips and gut, the sounds of a local DJ spinning 80’s hip hop echoed through Saratoga and Gay street. Big Daddy Kane’s “Raw” was playing once I stepped into the club. Watching real Hip Hop heads bobbing their entire body harder than an old engine on a train sent a rush through my veins like a blast of Heroin. I then felt a surge of blood rush to the back of my head causing the blood vessels to swell up leading to eyes bulging out of my head once Cool C rapped the first 4 words to “Glamorous Life”.
It would not be long before the one and only DJ Kid Capri went to the stage and set up his chemistry equipment to begin an organized explosion that would take place 25 minutes later. Oddly enough the natives were not too exited to see such a stylus legend for the fact we knew what was to come. Kid Capri introduced his new act. It was 2 kids from NY with madd flow but not enough go. And once they brought an R&B singer to the stage they were boldly dismissed from the stage by the inundation of boo’s from the crowd. For the first time in history, I think people wanted nothing more than to choke Kid Capri.
The anxiety and anticipation was building like a state prison riot. The people ranted “Raakim, Raakim…” Kid Capri threw on one of the most viscous instrumentals ever played through a needle. Then the presence of Rakim the great was soon on stage. As he walked onto the stage he had a lean to his bop that made it look cool to have an unbalanced posture. He wore the classic fisherman hat with a towel covering his dome. The entire club let out a battle cry.
I was in disbelief that it was really Rakim. I needed for him to remove the hat from over his eyes to see. Once he began to spit fire, he pulled his hat back and the towel was left hanging from his head. I then needed for the towel to be removed. It was like a groom pulling back his new bride’s veil once the towel was peeled away. I looked into his eyes and it was really him-it was Rakim Allah. The same artist I had admired since I was a kid was standing in front of me holding the microphone and announcing life into it only as a king would. His voice was like bass cello skipping over rocks in a rhythmic manner synchronizing with the laws of inertia.
The crowd was hypnotized by the vocal cords that oscillated lyrics through every eardrum in the place. With the exception of one funky ass couple dancing in my way, grinding and pumping like two freaks fresh out the pen, there was complete order as the royal messenger laced the room with metaphors and similes.
At the end of a dynamite show, Rakim the great ended with an on-point freestyle that literally moved the crowd. As he stepped off stage, me and a host of others were eager to touch hands with history. I approached him with a humble hand shake and felt the electric surge of the truth enter through my hands.
Leaving for the parking lot, I noticed I had forgotten to put my windows up from pure excitement when I parked earlier that night. I also almost missed my belt way entry upon leaving and was extremely oblivious to the other vehicles on the beltway driving home. Care free of any dangers. My appetite was fed and nothing mattered for the brief moment.
This has been a Revolution for the Mind,
Marcus
