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Jay-Z & Mary J Blige: Heart of the City Tour Review :: At Hollywood's cultural center, Jay-Z proves why he's the greatest of all time

By Brandon Perkins   Photography by Raymond Leon Roker

04/17/08 :: URB web

Even as the five-figure fireworks display’s pops, bangs and whistles distracted from Mary J Blige’s soul-packed wail and drowned out Jay-Z’s punchlines, it was deafeningly clear that Shawn Carter is the only rapper in the history of hip-hop capable of delivering the performance witnessed by the Hollywood Bowl last night in Los Angeles. Several thousand hands remained launched in the air, just in front of me, as were tens of thousands behind me, swaying their Roc-A-Fella diamonds in near-perfect unison. The gesture is no doubt reminiscent of devout worship—and the sheer number of bowing diamonds recalls the vast temples of Malcolm X’s pilgrimage to Mecca—and with the God MC, him, Jay Hova at the focal point, there wasn’t an ounce of false idolatry in the air.



It’s hard to avoid hyperbole when discussing last night’s show. If headlining Madison Square Garden with his Fade To Black performance was Jay’s monumentally definitive NYC event, the Bowl was that for LA. Splitting time between bloated Ella Fitzgerald tributes and Coldplay concerts, it’s the bougie blossom on Los Angeles’ blouse. Rap isn’t supposed to work at venues like the Hollywood Bowl. Its Greek style seating and open to the desert air swallows anything that doesn’t soar ballad-like and forget about cuffed microphones. Hip-hop works better bottled up in some basement, where the energy can’t escape during the customary lulls—and yet, last night, the Bowl’s great expanse was overflowing.

Certainly, Jay’s catalog has lulls. But last night, he was able to turn them into stadium sing-alongs or poignant moments to pontificate upon. The space loungey “I Know,” from American Gangster, was enjoyably lofty, breezy even. “Show Me What You Got”—a song that awkwardly exists as a moment where Jay was temporarily pushed into the past-his-prime pen when he was absolutely out-rapped by Lil’ Wayne on the same beat—raced in the live setting, just as its fancy video denotes. Most glaringly gargantuan, however, was his performance of “Minority Report.” Whether it was the uninspired Dr. Dre production or its misplaced feeling amongst the Ikea rap and Chris Martin duets of Kingdom Come, its destructive details seemed to miss their target on his album. A cappella, as images of Katrina’s decimation and America’s failures flashed behind him, Jay-Z proved that he could pack his rhymes with the political punch normally reserved for acts like dead prez and Mos Def.

And yet, it wasn’t even that which cemented a status I had believed was long-since cemented. In a move that simultaneously frustrated and delighted, Jigga breezed through 10-second snippets of his impossibly deep catalog. “Crazy In Love,” “Money, Power, Respect,” “Money Ain’t A Thang,” “Hard Knock Life,” “Ain’t No Nigga,” “Fiesta Remix,” “Hello Brooklyn” and on and on and on—all hits that would’ve kept the crowd de-lulled and at fever pitch—were all dismissed immediately with a “Nah, fuck that.” Enough tracks for a whole other concert were treated like album cuts or forgettable b-sides not the chart topping party unifiers that they are. No hip-hop artist has that depth of familiarity (and the charismatic audacity to rub it in). Perhaps, one day Kanye West will reach that level and it’s an honestly disheartening thought that Big L, Notorious B.I.G. and Tupac Shakur might’ve reached the refined artistry and prolificacy on display last night, but these remain hypotheticals. The Heart of the City tour was a reality. Oh yeah, as if this after-thought is a further testament to Jay-Z's biblical stature, Mary J Blige was amazing, too.

Click here for more photos from URB publisher Raymond Roker's nearly exclusive vantage point

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