Lupe, Lupe, Lupe, tsk, tsk.
As far as reviews go, Lupe Fiasco was OK. He certainly didn’t blow my mind, far be it for me to play a game of pool or take a smoke on the balcony and feel as though this wasn’t a “MetroCity Concert Event” as the banners side of stage so aptly reminded me, but that perhaps I may as well have been at R&B Super Club on a Saturday night.
All the songs were performed like a well-trained puppy, an incongruous looking band played alongside him, while two friends (?) sat distractingly on stage: the whole time looking bored out of their skulls. Who were those people? Why were they on stage and why weren’t they dancing??!
Fiasco and co raced through the songs with barely a breath between. To this little reviewer Lupe gave the impression of an artist who wanted to get the gig over with, take his $100, 000, ‘Thank Perth!” and run while a bunch of unlucky people think it’s the best thing they’ve seen without realising they’ve just been insulted and duped at the same time. On the final song Lupe introduced Daydream, only to stop and start again, stating the crowd didn’t know how to behave and that if he were in a ‘real’ city he’d be receiving the reaction he wanted. For an artist who originally gave me the impression his music was of a genuine place of hiphop lovin’, I walked out of his gig feelin’ nothin’ but at least knowin’ that it doesn’t matter if you’re a poet breaking new ground, if there’s idiocy in the masses then there’s money to be found.