Mark Robinson
Staff Writer
Patrons at The Camel kicked off Mardi Gras with Big’s Fat Tuesday celebration Tuesday night. The event featured DJ Mindset and Elby Brass.
Sponsored by VCU’s Student Hip-Hop Organization (SHHO), the night was meant to commemorate the 14th anniversary of the slaying of hip-hop legend, The Notorious B.I.G. Widely renowned as the greatest rapper of all time, Biggie was the face of East Coast hip-hop through the mid-’90s. His case is still unsolved.
Unfortunately, the night was more like a big fat dud.
There was no sign that a Mardi Gras party was planned; purple, green and gold were noticeably absent from the interior of the Broad Street venue.
Amateur hour on the turntables starred DJ Mindset. His sub-par scratching, which could only be rivaled by Edward Scissorhands, was hard to listen to, to say the least. Transitions evoked head-scratching, not head-nodding, and the mix was decent at best.
All that aside, his musical selection was appropriate for the night. Hip-hop throwback classics like “Juicy,” “Can I Kick it?” and “Ready or Not” cut through the mediocrity and kept the crowd satisfied.
Elby Brass’s impromptu entrance stopped the bleeding momentarily. The 14-piece group stormed from the back room and poured through the crowd, shouting emphatically, “Don’t start no shit, there won’t be no shit.”
Inevitably, the initial energy fluttered, and the remainder of the performance was strikingly pedestrian.
Aside from the intro tune, which was a cover of the Rebirth Brass Band, the music lacked the precision and attitude that the Richmond music scene is predicated on. The performer’s enthusiasm was curbed by the erratic and borderline sloppy nature of their arrangements.
Renditions of the songs “Virginia Creeper” and “Good Weather” provided big sound, albeit too big for the venue. Fourteen musicians crammed onto a stage meant for four is uncomfortable to think about, but Tuesday night proved it’s even worse to listen to.
Elby Brass’s vocals were a mix between screamed rap and call and response chants. “If I Had a Hammer” droned on like a bad 4H tune. “We’re Broke” was distinctively square and reminiscent of a pep band stand jam.
Elby Brass performs in old high school marching band uniforms; they even have a makeshift drum line. A snare and bass drummer fill the void a traditional drummer with a set would fill. Their set up is mobile so they can perform anywhere, anytime.
The concept is novel, but it seems to have resulted in an identity crisis of sorts. Elby Brass is essentially a small marching band, not, as they claim, a funk brass outfit. Calling their music “funk” is like calling Justin Bieber’s music “R&B.”
Although the event was disappointing, those in attendance did come together in honor of one of rap’s finest. The memory of the Notorious B.I.G. will live on through his music, as long as people still come together to listen to it.