"How many of y'all remember 1989?" Gang Starr's frontman Guru shouts halfway through this thronged and sweaty anniversary celebration. We all do, because 1989 was year zero, the year rap grew up. In 1989, De La Soul brought rap to MTV, Public Enemy were at the top of their game with It Takes A Nation Of Millions and Gang Starr, with Guru's elder statesman persona and DJ Premier's Blue Note samples, were the keepers of the flame lit by Gil Scott Heron and John Coltrane.
They were full of words such as "elevate" and "discipline". You imagined them sporting pharaonic beards and gold-topped canes, although in reality it was baseball caps and gold chains. After all they were, Guru maintained, "representing straight underground hip hop".
After a 10-year tour of duty - a rare achievement in rap - they have earned certain privileges. So tonight Guru has a special roadie to bring him towels and water, just as Elvis did.
He can also get away with asking if Hackney and Tottenham are in the house in the manner of an East End pub singer, or whipping the crowd up into an anti-Gallic frenzy with, "I know y'all can make more noise than motherfuckin France." Pure pantomime, but the sort of thing that tonight's good-natured crowd laps up with relish.
Maybe rap's pioneers are softening in their middle age too because, when Gang Starr introduce a gang of homeboys called The Militia, we're expecting jump-suited bodyguards with fake Uzis a la Public Enemy's Security Of The First World. Instead we get a fat gentleman called Big Shug with a giant orange water pistol. He squirts the crowd, they throw water back, everyone laughs. Much like any 10th birthday party, in fact.
The heat and humidity rise mercilessly. Gang Starr's jazz and James Brown samples may sound polite and toe-tapping on record, but at full volume in a closed space, they are scorching. Each old favourite - DWYCK, Just To Get A Rep, Jazz Thing - is met with sweaty pogoing and air-punching. So, while the show builds perfectly for the first hour, from a solo Guru prowling the stage like a drill sergeant, to a full compliment of five MCs (including the towel roadie) banging into each other and swapping rhymes, after a while the overheated crowd goes limp and a good quarter slope off to the bar.
Understandable maybe, but impolite because, at a time when so many rap acts can't even be bothered to turn up at their own gigs, two whole hours of Gang Starr's enthusiastic rabble-rousing is a very welcome birthday present indeed.
Simon Lewis
***** Unmissable **** Recommended *** Enjoyable
** Mediocre * Terrible
