Concert Review: The Roots House Of Blues, West Hollywood

Wednesday, Nov. 24

By David Wollock

When a group has the rep for being the hands-down best live hip-hop band on the planet, the temptation is to give in to the hype or knock them off their pedestal. Dynamic but hindered by a few setbacks, the Roots' first perf of Wednesday's sold-out doubleheader merits something in between.

The Philly outfit's use of a real band -- drummer, keyboardist, bassist and "human beatboxer" in lieu of the usual turntables or DAT -- has ceased to be a novelty. But the players were nonetheless proficient.

The ensemble delivered its usual brand of lively, organic, jazz-influenced hip-hop, faithfully re-creating songs from its four-album oeuvre and doing complete "live remix" overhauls of others. Acting as a fourth instrument, beatboxer Scratch astounded the packed house with his vocal percussion and turntable sound effects.

With his commanding bellow of a voice, rapper-frontman Black Thought was the night's centerpiece. Whether showcasing his lyrical dexterity, poking fun at chin-stroking wallflowers, bursting into an impromptu lounge routine a la Sammy Davis Jr. or playing call-and-response games with the crowd on songs like "The Ultimate," BT kept fans' hands waving in the air for most of the 100-minute set.

"We are the ultimate," he boomed, and a thousand amped-up fans thunderously shouted back "Rock rockin' it!" to complete the song's chorus. Tapping into the "yes yes y'all" party vibe at the genre's roots, it was hip-hop at its best.

Unfortunately, some of the group's jazz-style "improv" came off as formulaic. A listen to their new concert album "The Roots Come Alive" attests to the fact that some of BT's off-the-cuff antics -- seemingly spontaneous scatting or lowering his voice to a barely audible whisper on the more politically charged rhymes of "Step Into the Realm" -- are performance staples. Such predictability is hardly shocking from a band that performs in the neighborhood of 250 gigs a year, and the audience didn't seem to mind.

The bigger problem came with the Roots' trademark "Hip Hop 101" segment of the show, when they typically perform a timeline of rap hits. Spanning from "Rapper's Delight" to current chart-toppers like "Vivrant Thing," the rousing medley was interrupted repeatedly by annoying, even excruciatingly painful instrumental solos.

The worst was a get-caught-up-in-the-moment, eardrum-popping barrage of bass fuzz and banging drums. The nonsensical display effectively killed the show's momentum, and the crowd began to flatline.

Scratch single-handedly revived the dying house with an amazing beatbox solo, simultaneously simulating drums, bass and record-scratching with inhuman precision.

As group members took turns on imaginary Technics, pantomiming under-the-leg and behind-the-back turntable acrobatics, BT busted freestyle rhymes over Scratch's one man, b-boy orchestra. This brilliant finale raised the roof, maintaining the Roots' standing as hip-hop's champs in the live arena.

But the night's shortcomings suggest that their once-undisputed title is open for challenge.