Ghostface Killah @ The Observatory

Show Review

In an interview with a Danish radio station New York rapper Ghostface Killah recalled a story in which he sandwiched 70s soul group The Delfonics between himself and a violent shootout. “I had trouble with these guys from around the way. So I'm going to the studio with The Delfonics and they are behind me in a van while I'm in another car in front of them. So these guys are on the express way following us and when we got to the light they got in front of me. So I'm thinking 'its about to be on.' I had a gun on me and they were just looking at me on the rearview mirror. I felt bad that it had to be like that because I love The Delfonics and I told them I was sorry and one of them was like 'don't even worry about it, I should have brought my knife.’” This anecdote is a living manifestation of Ghost’s musical sixth sense. His tunnel vision of sentimentality and strength pulls soul and street together better then anyone before or since. The spiritual codes of the Wu Tang Clan were established on the narrow streets of Staten Island and their unpredictable style is a synthesis of kung fu flicks, five percenter knowledge, and an authentic appreciation for rebellious activity. From the rubble of Shaolin rose the crew’s greatest lyrical warrior. When it was announced he’d be performing a solo show at The Observatory my attendance was guaranteed. Rap is a young man’s game in perception and pretext so when historical legends 25 years past their rookie season hit the stage there’s skepticism angled towards the energy, velocity, and temper of a performance. At the mature age of forty eight Ghost came to Los Angeles to let the city know all of that is complete bullshit.

After the success of Enter The 36 Chambers the RZA crafted a business blueprint with the ultimate goal of achieving international stardom on their own terms. In the mid to late 90s his vision for the group became realized and he felt it was time to flood the market by launching each member as a solo entity. Up until that point Ghost's most memorable moment came on Da Mystery of Chessboxin when intuitive madman Ol Dirty Bastard announced Ghost's presence on the track like he was entering a heavy weight title fight. His first jabs strike the song like an asteroid straight from the cosmos, forcing cracks in the earth and shattering everything that came before it. Those harsh vocals summoned straight from the gut assault the listener before conveying "I'm right here with you and if you listen to me i'll lift you the fuck up." Rap as a verbal mode of communication traveled through increased sophistication throughout the 1980s. The intricacy of a more poetic flow peaked in the early 90s when the fast rap inventions of Kool Moe Dee and violent aggression of Kool G Rap met the poised and in control demeanors of Guru and Lord Finesse. The impetus behind Wu Tang's kung fu obsession was the adaptation and manipulation of different fighting techniques to create the ultimate and unpredictable warrior. They captured New York because in an emotional sense they were New York. All of the pieces of previous predecessors or "masters" were reconfigured to fit the rugged and slashing style of a crew that weren't afraid of violence, authority, impoliteness and the unconditional truth of struggling on the streets. It wasn't pop music in a traditional sense because it represented an ignored and undesired mass. They were the quintessential example of rough and tumble rap music forcing itself down the throat of American media. Ultimately they were undeniable because the message of "this world is against us so we're going to find peace by living the way we want" articulated the deepest desires of black men and women trying to survive in the cultural center of the world. It should be a crime that after decades of industry perversion the famous W symbol has become nothing more then a logo on an Urban Outfitters shirt.
 

Method Man was up first and in 1994 he released his dusty debut Tical as the first step in RZA's master plan. Ol Dirty Bastard was next in 95 when the ridiculous masterpiece Return To The 36 Chambers hardened the Wu's rawness and enhanced a mystical feeling of spirituality in their records. Dirty was the intuitive center of the group while clinging onto the edge of his sanity. A decade and change later he was dead after battles with drug addiction drained his health and the claustrophobia of prison strangled the life out of him. During a 2002 in-prison interview he said "It's not easy for me. I feel like I'm in a spaceship that has just landed here. And when you get out, you realize there's nothing there at all. I don't know." Raekwon and GZA pilled onto the onslaught in 95 with their records Only Built 4 Cuban Linx... and Lyrical Swords. OB4CL was the world's serious introduction to the seamless chemistry between Rae and Ghost as they traded jagged crime-life verses over RZA's best batch of beats. Then in 1996 it was finally Ghostface Killah's turn to hold the spotlight alone. Calling his debut Ironman was fitting to the mythology he was slowly building. Songs like Black Jesus display Ghost as a gravitational center between Raekwon and GZA, mind and muscle urgently going to work for a cause. There's mentioning of Bermuda, dinero in casino, Atlanta, arabic, Nevada, Koreans, Jerusalem, and on and on. If Nas was a reporter from the project window Ghost's vision is perhaps more expansive, it spans countries and cultures but keeps the same bugged out-intelligent hoodlum type of perspective. All the street talk wasn't about violence for violence's sake, there's always a purpose behind it, it's a vehicle to make a larger move. In order to make his physicality felt RZA had to sprinkle soul and funk underneath and sometimes clashing with his vivid and volatile imagination. 

Fast forward past Wu Tang Forever and we arrive in the year 2000 at his career's shinning accomplishment: Supreme Clientele. The cover alone is chic and flossy. Blue and silver lettering glistens aside a sueded out Ghost gripping the mic with all five fingers. In 98' he took a pilgrimage to Africa in order to explore alternative methods of treatment for his diabetes. If there's a lesson to be learned from Ghost's ethos it is to be ready for anything. Early in his career his tone carried that sentiment but in 2000 his entire artistic shadow stepped onto a new platform of unpredictability and enigmatic adaptability. The production was handled by RZA and a collection of up in-commers featuring JuJu from the Beatnuts. The Abbot is such a unique producer because he sees possibilities where others see dead ends. While older memphis production drenched the color out of soul samples and centered previously untouched parts of a song the RZA unlocks more expansive territory in traditional New York boom bap. He developed a production style based on screw ball loops and rugged thumps that perfectly captured the spontaneity of the city streets. The arrangements featured James Brown grunts and precisely timed cuts that mimic the epic slashing sound of King Arthur pulling his sword from stone. And then there was Ghost, rapping on top of, underneath, behind, and even through these beats. It's language is built around a jargon that made sense to him, words that unlocked shortcuts to meaning. His flow resists a fixed form and travels like a raging fire enveloping a closed space. Supreme Clientele could easily be turned into a film of Ghost running around New York's many neighborhoods, through the packed subway cars, bypassing street fortunetellers set up next to super models waiting for the light, striding past bums slumped next to businessmen reading the newspaper. It's the sound of a soldier shinning through the dichotomy. New York rap was changing at the turn of the century and Diddy's Bad Boy records ushered in a bubblier jiggy style. Supreme Clientele crashed into the cannon as an antidote to the more malleable sound taking shape in Brooklyn. It was rough, smart, and expressive in a relentlessly ruthless way. There's no such thing as a run on bar, Ghost always has something to say even if the final point spins through a bugged out coil. 

It doesn't end there. In 2001 he released a bogus version of Bulletproof Wallets due to sampling issues. The real, unaltered version, is another masterpiece that if commercially released might have been his most celebrated work. In 2004 there was The Pretty Tony Album, in 2006 there was Fishscale. It would take me much more then a few paragraphs to flesh out every important detail of his career. His production over the last 25 years might be completely unmatched by anyone from Rap's birthplace. 

The show itself was something out of a hip hop video game. The opening acts included some of the most avatarish humans and worst rappers I've ever laid eyes on. One middle aged white guy, rocking a homeless aesthetic, came out sporting a lonzo ball jersey and a backwards baseball cap. His words were completely incoherent and spewed out in annoying patterns and rapid speeds. It was just horrible. There were four or five acts before the scheduled opener and it was a bit draining. The intermission DJ was spinning real vinyl and classic New York street rap out of the best speakers in Southern California. It was blasting. Stoner rapper Smoke DZA was the final stage of leg numbing purgatory before it was time for the real show. He's capable of stringing words together in familiar and comfortable patterns but in terms of original purposeful music there's nothing there. Griselda Gang member Westside Gunn came out wearing the tightest jeans i've ever seen and toted a bottle of some fancy looking drink like it was a broadway show prop. The whole thing was representative of an itch worth being scratched about the current dystopian state of New York rap. In a similar way to Joey Badass failing to best Smif N Wessun there's a crop of not young rappers impersonating the inflection and grizzled delivery of Ghost and Rae with little inspired enthusiasm. Conway and Westside Gunn are capable of producing a better then average song every once and a while but to lower the bar of hip hop excellence in New York to fit the ecosystem of today is plugging holes in a sinking ship. Outside of the usual Roc Marciano and Ka cannon DITC member Showbiz has dropped off the best old man album of the year, maybe he has finally inherited the crown. At this point it was nearing 1am and I really felt it was time to get on with the proceedings.

Wu Tang weed carrier Killa Preist entered the stage with Ghost dragging his feet behind him. Honestly part of this show turned into a Killa Preist tribute but thats expected in 2018. At this point older rappers know they can use some of their time to promote close friends and give themselves a break in between songs. Despite these interludes Ghost did not disappoint. He didn't have the ferocious speed or aggression anymore but the effort was there. His love for the pen and the pad was there but a bullish urgency wasn't. All you can ever ask of a performer is just to show you their passion and it really seemed like Ghost gave it all he had.  His live renditions were chaotic but not sloppy, it was clear he's lost some vocal control but the intuitive timing of his delivery remained a strength. I usually avoid the pit but this time I was right up on the front bar. The speakers at the Observatory are so good they completely control the room. When Mighty Healthy came on I could feel it in my chest. I feared he might lean on newer material throughout his setlist but it was quite the opposite. It was all such a reminder that the way he manipulates word meanings to fit his bugged out imagination is original and timeless. Rappers like Action Bronson have adopted and then hollowed out his grizzly cadence but they will never be able to replicate Ghost's inspired use of language.

Towards the end of the show he did something that I'm one hundred percent sure will go down as the funniest thing I'll ever witness at a show. Before starting the first ever Wu Tang song, Protect Ya Neck, he picked two fans from the crowd to rap ODB and Method Man's verses. Meth was casted as a tall thin black dude who looked like maybe he could do a little something on the mic. ODB however, was played by the drunkest dude in the building whose round frame was housed within dusty ass sweatpants. It was magical. He stumbled on the stage and swayed back and forth in preparation for his big moment. Ghost turned to the crowd and said "Now if they kill it, you gotta go crazy for them, but if they fuck up you better boo these niggas off the stage!" Its safe to say the stakes were high. Method Man skated through his verse with ease that shit was impressive to be honest. Things were looking good until ODB stepped into the spotlight. He got through maybe four words before his speech completely collapsed into slurring sounds. It was one of the funniest things I've ever seen in my whole life. After that social experiment Ghost dropped Cherchez Laghost and my mind exploded like the brain meme. Madam Majestic's voice floats through smoke before evaporating at the exact same crucial moment Ghost's voice enters to the record. The opening lines of "brothers try to pass me but none could match me, no girl could freak me im just too nasty!" are just unfuckwithable! The record is a perfect representation of his range and ability. 

When asked about his production on Supreme Clientele the RZA said "I was trusting chaos and confusion, not judging it, not fearing it, not reaching for an immediate solution." Is that not how the majority of street orientated rap functions? Does Ghostface Killah's institutional and spiritual resolve promote anything more powerful than accepting the never ending presence of confusion and creating an upward trajectory by using whatever is available? This is not a unique thesis for a rap record but Ghost approached it with a strong artistic touch that spun grime into opulence. In his essay "If Black English Isn't a Language, Then Tell Me What Is?" James Baldwin says "language, incontestably reveals the speaker." Ghost evolved the lineage of traditional lyricism by being one of the first rappers to prioritize unique word choice over the overarching "point" of speech. He took the Planet Rock aesthetic and freaked it into the 21st century.