The (almost) first hiphop show at the Crocodile went off like gangbusters—a packed, pumped crowd got to thrill to the sounds of some of the cream of the town. Yours truly was hosting—which is a job I have always understood to mostly consist of yelling. In that regard, I think I comported myself admirably.

DJ Marc Sense got the party moving with some good ol' West Coast rap as the performers got ready. The backstage scene was lovely—the green rooms comfy, clean & well-stocked, with a glut of local rap types exchanging hugs & pounds, lounging, and talking shit over cold Heinekens. Plus—every rapper's best friend—fresh towels!

The Sportn' Life famila—minus Fatal Lucciauno, who was backstage lending his energy to the event—took the stage first, with the set split into solos for SK, Spaceman, and D.Black to shine. SK's scrappy young-gun vibe set the stage for "Sportn' Life's Sex Symbol" (his words, not mine) Spaceman's crowd-jumping, fly-den-a-mufucka turboswag. SnL's reclusive spiritual leader D.Black brought his compelling a-game, all swooshing arms, boxer's footwork, and focused delivery. He brought out the King Of Ballard, Grynch, for a duet off of D.Black's upcoming Rejuvenation LP.

Backstage, One Be Lo joked that I should introduce him as "The Egyptian Lover AKA Swiss Chocolate"—I guess I didn't realize he was kidding.
Lo tore it down with his wordperfect MCing, interlocking cadence and seasoned stage presence; the Pontiac, MI-raised road warrior got copious love from his adopted second (or third) home—since his days in Binary Star, Seattle's always loved the guy.

I hadn't seen the Saturday Knights since Capitol Hill Block Party so I made damn sure that after my intro duties (my throat being nice and raw by this point) I got out in the crowd to see and hear and generally go nuts along with everybody else.

The Knights got buck as always, rolling out some half-finished new shit that sounded as only TSK could—like the morning's hazy memory of the height of last night's party; the sound and the lighting was pretty fucking superb, I must say. I was looking for the old tiki hut that ace sound dude (of dudes) Jim Anderson used to control everything from, but I didn't spot him.

Dyme Def—the men of the hour—took the stage, with the inimitable Bean One on the decks; they charged into a charged performance, ripping thru cuts from their already-chunky catalogue, including the fresh-off-the-presses EP Panic (read my thoughts on that here).

From their patented triangle offense to a staged driver's ed skit for Panic's auto anthem "Foot Up On the Gas," Fearce, SEV, and Brain rocked it to the fullest with their own personal flair; each now exhibiting more of a discernibly individual style. They split the crowd up and pitted sides for "2 Go", working the crowd into a frothy fucking lather.

Then, the cherry on top—damn near every MC in the house, including Fatal Lucciauno, hit the stage and ripped 8 bars; I'm glad I got mine in (just as I was happy to be a part of this celebration), but again, I wish I could've been in the crowd to see what many said was a hell of a posse joint. I'm sure some video will pop up soon enough. There is some, however, of the last joint of the night, Dyme Def's stomping "I'm Gone"—notice all the fools onstage:

It was truly a night to remember. But here's a pic to cap it off: a note left on the green room mirror by Fatal himself.

If you die 4 what you believe in…
Then your beliefs die with you…
So fight for what you believe in. Pray through it. Because through God you find L.I.F.E.
Fatal Lucciauno
The Only Forgotten Son
AKA
The Black Sheep

(thanks to Bengal Yucky for the TSK, Space, Lo & DD flicks, all others courtesy my trusty iPhone… thanks to kjade for the video!)