Kanye West

There’s a funny smell of hallucinogenic pot meandering about the pre-show auditorium of London’s grand Theatre Royal (the world’s longest running theatre, don’t you know!), so unless Surrey’s Tory constituency have realigned with the liberal left, there’s something unusual going on here in Theatre Land.

If nothing else, the prominent stink of weed in such ‘sophisticated’ surroundings is indicative of one thing – you can take the boy straight outta Compton, but you can’t take Compton outta the boy (Ok, it’s tenuous, but you see what I’m getting at) and as urban’s most wanted Kanye West brings real hip-hop to the gold tinted lapels of the debonair West End, what could have ended up an unfortunate culture clash emerges triumphant as a moment of boundary-pushing synergy.

As the stage curtain rises to the opening notes of a rousing ‘Diamonds From Sierra Leone’, in bug-eyed white sunglasses Mr West bursts out of the music videos and media gossip pages onto the regal thespian’s stage, instantly filling the room with hysteria. Supported by a six-piece string section, backing singers, DJ & an elegant harpist, it’s clear from the off tonight is to be no standard hip-hop fare.

Endless articles have discussed the climbs and falls of one of the music industry’s biggest egos, so rather than be drawn into a psychoanalytic debate it’s best to talk only of this show’s merits, which are endless.

Not as overblown as Eminem and his inflatable middle fingers, or as street-level shambolic as De La Soul’s residency at a back alley rock venue, Kanye’s fusion of styles, expectations and innovations treat hip-hop with a new level of deserved respect that translates effortlessly to the audience at large. There’s not bling-bling clichés, no low-riding bitch-niggers, and when songs do address themes more familiar to the genre, such as the oddly haunting ‘Crack Music’, they adopt self-critical angles previously unheard of in the often arrogant and self-assuming musical order.

In the hour and half show, a length oft ne’er ventured to in many hip hop performances, there’s time for more than just the hits. The talented string section weave in and out of ‘Eleanor Rigby’ and ‘Bittersweet Symphony’, whilst the wild DJ A-Track mixes in a scantly clad hip-hop beat. Songs are segued with snippets from pop classics, so one minute Kanye’s rapping us ‘Heard ‘Em Say’, next everyone’s singing along to Eurhythmics’ ‘Sweet Dreams’.

Then there’s the lengthy ‘Audience With Kanye West’ segment. It’s unclear if it’s unrehearsed, but the man takes it upon himself to remind us just why we love him so much, giving us a run down of his (long) life story, bullying the DJ into playing snippets of all the tracks he’s every featured on or produced (including a startling burst of Rhymefest’s ‘Brand New’) and letting us know how lucky he was to meet with Ralph Lauren. Of course the audience gush with thanks, who wouldn’t want to hear an ego such as his blow his own trumpet? When a heckler calls out ‘just play Gold-digger!’ mid Kanye-Confessional the laughter is uproarious – there’s nothing like the British sense of humour to undermine a smug American’s self-righteous moment of expression.

Despite this indulgence he’s still loveable and the banter is still a joy to witness. Once it’s over a sequence of non-stop hits cannon an already riotously successful show into new levels of superstardom. ‘Jesus Walks’, ‘Gold-Digger’ and ‘Touch The Sky’ round off the set that ends as sharply as it starts for the 2000 capacity crowd in London’s old venue of cultural heritage, ending the Kanye West experience in remarkable glitz. ‘We’re making history tonight’ says the exuberant rapper early on in the show – by the end of it there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that he’s anything but right.

FUTURE GIGS

sorry, we currently have no gigs listed for this act.