With an audience filled with people who believe rap music died in the mid-90s (one person walks past me wearing a T-shirt that says: “Less Drake, More Tupac”), the Gods of Rap tour is positioning itself as a hip-hop purist’s wet dream. This nostalgia trip sees De La Soul, a rejigged Public Enemy and the Wu-Tang Clan exhausting their back catalogues. Yet the tour feels more like a museum exhibit than a chance to truly replicate the frenetic energy that made each of these legendary rap groups so thrilling.
De La Soul are slow to get going. Their reliance on tried and tested audience interaction tropes from the 90s, plus a poor sound system that drowns out the feelgood sonics of goofy bops such as Me, Myself and I, makes their appearance feel a little dated. With new rappers such as JPEGMAFIA, Slowthai and Rico Nasty reinventing live hip-hop looks, each translating the raw vigour of punk into powerful performances, there’s something distinctly pedestrian about watching De La Soul’s Posdnuos chant: “When I say hip, you say hop” over and over.
Things step up a notch with Public Enemy Radio, a new iteration of the groundbreaking 1980s political rap group. Although frontman Chuck D is here, the rest of Public Enemy, including Flava Flav, are apparently too busy enjoying retirement, with fresh blood DJ Lord and emcee Jahi helping Chuck take things back to rap’s golden era via a traditional setup of two turntables, two microphones and two backing dancers, both dressed like soldiers and doing endearing dad dances. Chuck D – who stirs the crowd into a frenzy after declaring “Fuck the fuck out of Brexit!” – still has a booming voice that can move mountains. Hearing him rap the subversive line “Elvis never meant shit to me” is a timely reminder of an era when rappers truly said what was on their minds, without fear of losing a multimillion dollar endorsement deal.
But the adrenaline boost of Public Enemy Radio isn’t replicated by the Wu-Tang Clan: half of the members, GZA and U-God in particular, look as if they’re ready to fall asleep. The likes of Raekwon and Ghostface Killah, who are thankfully still as engaging as in their Only Built 4 Cuban Linx… days, desperately try to keep the energy levels up. The late Ol’ Dirty Bastard’s son, Young Dirty Bastard, injects some giddiness into proceedings, jumping into the crowd to recreate Shimmy Shimmy Ya with the same twitchy mischief as his father. As this morbid scene plays out, the far stiffer Wu elders watch on blankly, perhaps finding his pitch-perfect impression a little strange.
The real star of the evening is DJ Premier, who plays between each of the acts. It’s a beautiful sight to watch the Gang Starr producer – who has turned scratching over atmospheric boom bap and Fat Joe’s vocal samples into an art form – master the transition from Herbie Hancock’s Jessica to Mobb Deep’s Shook Ones Part II, and deliver the words “Big L, rest in peace” throughout Wembley Arena. Premo, who is the glue that binds the evening together, looks as if he’s having the time of his life. It’s a shame so many of the other acts don’t share his enthusiasm.
• At SSE Arena, Glasgow, on 12 May.
