Benefit concert featuring Immortal Technique restores faith in hip-hop scene

Immortal Technique, Akir, Chino XL
Ackerman Grand Ballroom
Monday, Nov. 28

The modern hip-hop/rap scene has never been appealing to me. I am a person who scoffs at Top 40 songs and gets extremely angry with my friends if they dare profane my ears with the likes of Lil Wayne or Flo Rida. If you ask me why I have such disdain for the music, my argument is always the same: It is my opinion that the modern-day hip-hop and rap I hear on the radio is completely devoid of meaning and passion.

So it was mixed feelings that I stood in line Monday night to see Immortal Technique. I was introduced to his unrelenting brand of underground political hip-hop by a friend of mine who thought I would enjoy his work. I listened to one of his songs and deemed it bearable, so when I heard he was performing at UCLA for a benefit show to help build hospitals for children in Gaza, I thought it would be a fun experience for my first hip-hop concert. By the end of the night, Immortal Technique, along with fellow artists Akir and Chino XL, had restored my faith in hip-hop.

The show began on a sour note for me. After waiting for about an hour in line outside of Ackerman Union, I stood inside Ackerman Grand Ballroom for a good 45 minutes before I heard any music.

By the time the first act, Akir, took the stage, I was about ready to call it quits. Akir (which stands for Always Keep It Real) launched straight into his first song, and I was hooked. Though I had never listened to any of his music in my life, I found it hard not to connect with his energetic style and seemingly effortless rhyming ability. His songs were interspersed with spoken word pieces, which further showcased his penchant for rhyme. By the end of his set, I was convinced: There was hip-hop out there that I could actually enjoy.

After Akir, Chino XL, another artist who I had never heard of, took the stage. He began by giving a few heartfelt words about the cause he was there to support before performing his first song. Somewhere between his harsh, hard-hitting vocals, endless one-line metaphors and dazzling wordplay, I found the passion that I had long thought hip-hop lacked. He performed his music in a way that made me want to believe and agree with every line that came out of his mouth, even though my suburban Orange County upbringing had left me unable to relate to his tales of life on the streets.

After giving an inspiring speech about social responsibility, Immortal Technique, backed by DJ GI Joe, began his set of what he described as “real hip-hop.” Immortal Technique’s music was an unpredictable combination of revolutionary left-wing political commentary and personal life experience, all delivered through his frantically energetic voice. More importantly, every single one his songs had a discernable meaning that he was attempting to communicate to the audience. Some of these meanings were clear, others had to be explained by the artist, but all were present. Immortal Technique performed a handful of his songs I was familiar with, including the always-entertaining “Peruvian Cocaine” and gruesomely tragic “Dance with the Devil,” as well as a large number of songs I had never heard before but enjoyed all the same. His performance left me feeling inspired and empowered but most of all with a new appreciation for hip-hop.

After the show, I was forced to confront the fact that I had just attended a hip-hop show that I thoroughly enjoyed, and though it offended all my sensibilities, I grudgingly realized that I had been wrong to dismiss an entire genre based on my limited first impression. The energy, passion and meaning that I found in Ackerman Ballroom on Monday night effectively changed my opinion about hip-hop, and though I certainly won’t be listening to Lil Wayne anytime soon, Immortal Technique and his fellow artists have carved themselves a niche in my iTunes library.