Mos Def has defied the wisdom that hip hop innovation means ugliness, and has been held up as an iconoclast. The expansiveness of his mindset is showcased best on the third song aired here, New World Water, which scratches at the sour underbelly of social policy by outlining our need and exploitation of water: an uncharacteristic hip hop subject.
It's this combination of probing thought and battle ready flow that first caught the attention of his former mentors, A Tribe Called Quest. Unlike ATCQ frontman Q-Tip, who has slowly lost the plot, Mos Def knows that staying true to the best in yourself means talking in dark, visionary tongues. After all, there isn't room in his systematic principles for a rented approach.
This was no ordinary hip hop show: Mos Def took the unprecedented step of dispensing with a DJ and employing a distinguished live band. The band, which included On-U-Sound stalwart Doug Wimbush on bass, had the good sense to understate rather than compete. Tending to begin with a couple of rhythmic or melodic fragments and expand outwards, the four-piece tapped New York's passion for electro funk. After a stint with jazz beats, the band cranked up the P-Funk meter, keeping the melodies minimal and the drums hard and snapping.
As Mos Def grew more focused, he became less faithful to one style. A slippery chameleon, he seemed equally at home singing the heartfelt ballad Love, rocking out to a full metal racket or leading a traditional call-and-response routine. At this musical crossroads, Mos Def has created several types of music at once, with acoustic beats as stark as x-rays. That you couldn't always hear him was a testament to the crowd's raucous participation, even though only a few songs qualified as sing-along anthems: the clear-eyed prose poems on his solo debut, Black on Both Sides are far too abstract and radical for that.
Before slipping into a perfect rendition of Sly and the Family Stone's Stand, Mos Def pushed his versatility to its limits with his forthcoming single, Umi Says. "Umi says, shine a light on the world, let my people be free," he sang, pitching his smooth vocals over humungous, low resolution beats. It may be a cliche, but in the mouth of Mos Def it felt vital, a sign that hip hop's future is bright.
