The Mighty Mos Def

Last evening Mos Def and his band, the Amino Alkaline Orchestra, rocked the house at the concert hall of the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts. The Mos Def I remember from the 90s was 100% B-Boy, but the man who turned up at KC was a very different performer.

Backed by a 22-piece orchestra (including a horn section, strings and a DJ on the ones and twos), this clearly was not an ordinary hip-hop gig. For one, it was at the Kennedy Center, typically associated with the high arts (ballets, classical recitals etc). But there also was a lot more going on in this performance than usually meets the ear at live hip-hop gigs.

Instead of dipping into his back catalogue, Mos and the band ran through a rich mix of new originals and evocative reworkings of hip-hop, R&B, jazz and funk classics. Notable performances included Ghostface Killah's 'Mighty Healthy', BBD's 'Poison' and Slum Village's 'Fall In Love'. Another highlight was Mos Def's Star-Spangled-Banner-turned-anti-war anthem set to a DC go-go backing beat. But the goosebumps moment of the night was when Mos Def asked to see the president of America, and an image of Barack Obama was projected onto the big screen behind the band. Mos urged the audience to vote for change; to cast a vote that would improve the plight of Americans. "Stakes is high," he screamed and launched into a rendition of the De La Soul classic. I was moved (almost to tears).

There were some other important statements: tributes to the late Bernie Mac and Isaac Hayes ('Walk On By'), a sophisticated critique of the medical and pharmaceutical industries ('Beep') and an indictment of the poverty of broadcasting ('Black Radio').

The show's only real flaw was that in the first half Mos Def's voice seemed to get lost in the mix of an orchestra that was fully (and unnecessarily) mic'd. This made it hard to grasp some of the intricate vocal word play. To the sound engineer's credit, this seemed to be rectified during the intermission.

I came away from the experience feeling edified, entertained but also challenged (both musically and intellectually) by the performance. And my initial scepticism about the appropriateness of a 'popular' artist performing in an 'elite' venue evaporated when, at the tail-end of the show, Mos Def jumped off stage and ran up and down the aisles to slap hands with members of the audience, transforming the space of the Kennedy Center into a more intimate meeting between artist, audience and Black art.