It’s been two decades since the fateful year of 1992.
Bill Clinton was elected president of the United States, Aussie filmmaker Baz Luhrmann released his brilliant romantic comedy Strictly Ballroom, and an independent hip hop group from Atlanta, Georgia released their smashing debut record, 3 Years, 5 Months & 2 Days In The Life Of…
That group was, of course, Arrested Development – and in one fell swoop redefined hip hop in general, established southern hip hop in particular, and helped to raise the consciousness of what it meant to be an African American in the waning years of the 20th Century.
Now, founder MC Speech and his spirited band of like-minded brothers and sisters are celebrating the 20 years they’ve been in motion, and in the dark, upstairs bandroom of St Kilda’s very own Prince Of Wales, the celebration was to commence.
Kicking off was Melbourne’s own electronic hip hop collective Run For Your Life. Two years old, and fronted by charismatic MCs Dutch and JSmith, this crew delivered some dope-ass and deep, chunky beats, interlaced with healthy doses of humour, humility and emotion.
JSmith, a slinky Aussie-Nigerian with a smooth smoky voice, bounded all over the stage as he and his cohorts dropped tracks from their debut record RFYL Vol. 1. The venue, already nearly full of punters, were thoroughly enjoying themselves, and (one is certain) ready to check out more from these local hip hopsters.
After Run For Your Life left the stage, Alison Wonderland took her place behind a massive console. A supposed “DJ” of sorts from up north in Sydney, Alison Wonderland is a pretty blonde girl who does lots of dancing and looking glamorous behind her decks.
She danced. She blew kisses to the dancing crowd. She pretended to push buttons and twiddle knobs as classic hip hop tunes blared out of the speakers. Not once did she touch an LP or CD, nor did her manoeuvring of the machine make any discernable difference in the tempo, volume or sound of the music delivered. Her playlist was about 80 minutes long, which is about the length of an average burnable CD. You do the math.
Alison Wonderland finally left her perch behind the behemoth jukebox machine masquerading as a DJ console, and Speech and pals took the stage to thunderous and adulating applause. Twenty years, huh? They looked terrific. Speech himself, wearing black-framed eyeglasses and a purple oxford shirt with pressed trousers, looked every bit the liberal arts professor every undergraduate wishes they’d get in first year college. “Hello Melbourne!” he shouted heartily, as they launched without hesitation into ‘Fishin’ 4 Religion’.
It has to be said how skillful Speech is and always has been. The rhymes he has perfected over the years are mightily complicated and intricately woven pieces of art.
Along with his incredible band, including lovely backing ladies Montsho Eshe and Tasha Larae, Arrested Development kicked some serious ass over the course of their 100-minute set. The rhythm section was amazing, the guitar riffs were jazzy and spirited, and the delivery of legendary anthems such as ‘Mr. Wendal’, ‘Tennessee’, ‘Give A Man A Fish’, and ‘People Everyday’ was stoic, ecstatic, incredibly fresh and enthusiastic.
The audience, in response, went absolutely bat-shit. There was dancing, there were arms raised in the air and waving, the floor was vibrating, and one young woman dancing wildly next to yours truly was singing along to every damn track Speech and friends delivered. One would imagine her legs and throat were pretty sore the next day; in fact, the same could be said for the entire room!
Over rhythms and rhymes celebrating (and sometimes bemoaning) the eternal themes of brotherhood, inclusivity, poverty, empowerment, friendship, hope, violence and despair; Arrested Development were the real deal on this amazing Friday night. Simply put, and to quote another notable character in the hip hop world, ‘Free your mind, and your ass will follow.’
As they closed out the evening with a touching version of ‘Tennessee’, Speech looked at the audience with love and pride and said softly, “It’s been wonderful, Melbourne. To see so many friendly faces. I hope we see you again in another 20 years!”
As any one of the audience will tell you, hopefully we see them down this way again far sooner than that.
