Rakim January 29, Bunkhouse Saloon
This wasn’t a concert. It was a history lesson.
The strength of the openers notwithstanding—local hip-hop congregation Rhyme N Rhythm rocked like hungry wolves, and seeing Hassan virgins get deflowered was like Christmas morning—Rakim’s presence at the Bunkhouse felt like a turning point. This was one of those shows that Las Vegas doesn’t get often: a literal historical figure whose influence is strong but doesn’t have a current touring pedigree.
For any reader unfamiliar, Rakim was one half of Eric B. & Rakim, regularly propped on the shortlist of most influential duos in pop music, the inimitable force in the driver’s seat of hip-hop between the mid ’80s and early ’90s. Shows like this rarely stop here, because the local community doesn’t turn out enough to cover the performer guarantee. But this time, it turned out. Overwhelmingly so. The venue was brimming, spilling into the yard, impossible to wade through much less lift your arms in, which would’ve turned into hugs given the amount of crows feet, smile lines and surprised recognition throughout the center floor.
By the time Rakim took the stage, an hour late, and opened with my personal favorite track “Microphone Fiend,” the audience was wild. To each song, a clot of fans cheered in that personally significant way, paying homage to tracks that probably changed their musical roadmap from an early age, the coldest and most recognizable samples this side of A Tribe Called Quest: “Don’t Sweat the Technique” (oooh!), “I Ain’t No Joke” (ahhh!), “I Know You Got Soul” (heyyy!), et magnificent al. Rakim was clearly showing his years (all 47 of them) the whole set. But the beauty of being the B.B. King of your genre is that the audience will do the work for you. And it did. Happily.