Saturday was a good day. I violated my typical schedule and went to watch some art spinning at the Kenya National Theatre. I had anticipated to reach at KNT right on time to see the event begin as the performers as I had seen them before were great. Some of the performers that were doing their stuff on Saturday are my personal friends that I have shared with the same platforms and spat on the same mic. I guess I have written about some of them in the past. I was invited by a friend and a fellow spoken word artiste, Femi Bongo Kaya who to me is an artiste that deserves the title as he has never disappointed his fans. The guy is worshiped by words and rhymes serve him coffee as other stylistic devices take refuge just beneath his tongue. I never think twice about attending his events when invited. I wanted to watch every performance, not to miss a thing from the beginning to the end of the show but even before I reach could the venue I ran into some acrobats who were doing some real mind-boggling stuff. I wonder how these people place fire in their mouths but they aren’t burnt. Ever wondered how they ride those one wheeled bicycles? Do they have real bones?
To cut the crap I reached the venue an hour later after the event had commenced but I was still thrilled to watch my favorite artistes do their art. There was Femi, from what I have said you can just assume that his performance was great as it has always been. Then there was Virusi who also left us asking for more but then came the danger, the struggle sent by the creator to save the Rasta youths! Baba Gurston left us humming some wild reggae tunes. The deepest of roots. Forget about this stuff they call riddim that is full of babes, boobs and pussy lyrics that Vybez Cartel has pioneered. I don’t fall for this crap. This is not reggae. It will never be and I can’t listen to such songs. When I choose to listen to a song I have to draw lessons from it. What can Vybz cartel’s songs teach me? That it’s good to live your life as a gangster having 100 women at your disposal, a pistol on your waist, marijuana in your head and money on your mind? No I want more out of life.
Baba Gurston is an artiste who I have never known but that evening he left me humming to his tune. ‘Twas lovely listening to him pour out his heart with such enthusiasm and mastery. All performances went down well until this guy took stage. To tell the truth he is talented and rapped sense in his lyrics which were very tight but why did he have to show us his butts, what irritates me is that he had a belt but chose to have his trousers on his thighs revealing the sight of his innerwear which was not in good health…he chose not to have it on his waist, why is he adjusting it constantly in our watch? I can’t pay for a performance only to end up watching a man adjusting his pants; I can watch that on you tube! Dear rappers God created your waist for a purpose. I guess it was meant to be where you fasten that trouser and innerwears are not meant for the public that is why they have a prefix inner added to them, please keep it to yourself we don’t care whether it is Gucci, Giorgio Armani or Tommy Hilfiger. Just in case I haven’t known does exposing your pant add some lyrical prowess when you’re on stage? If yes let me know that I may train my eyes to exercise some patience, they are growing tired of seeing all these bruised butts!!!!