Wiz’s posse can’t work magic

Aside from a few girls who were upset by getting baptized with some water from the stage,… Aside from a few girls who were upset by getting baptized with some water from the stage, there were few in attendance at PPC’s (hopefully) annual hip-hop show Saturday night who left disappointed.

But there must have been some who left a good bit confused – I imagine I wasn’t the only one – and it had nothing to do with our man Lupe, whose performance was described by a friend of mine as “a religious experience.”

Rather, my confusion came from Pittsburgh’s own Wiz Khalifa. Now I’m certainly a fan of the 20-year-old rapper, not only for the fact that he’s aiming to take this city out of hip-hop obscurity and light it up as a new hot-spot, but also purely for his music.

“Youngin’ on His Grind” is a great track, as is “All in My Blood (Pittsburgh Sound),” and the fact that he’s the approximate age of a Pitt sophomore is impressive – the man cannot legally drink and he has been the city’s top rapper for over a year. What confused me about Khalifa’s set Saturday night was the full army of people accompanying him onstage.

Having kept a running tally throughout his performance, I can say factually that no fewer than 15 people stood onstage with the rapper, not including his DJ. Fifteen. Had each of them been holding an instrument and sitting in an orderly fashion, Wiz could’ve been conducting his own jazz band. Khalifa’s Cool Cats, you might say. Instead, only one of them, Khalifa’s hype man Kev Da Hustler, really had much of a purpose.

Now, unlike the members of a rock band who are clearly onstage to play music, as well as the possible backup dancers or singers who support them, the folks who stand onstage at a rap show have much less defined roles. There’s the DJ, whose job it is to, well, be a DJ, the hype man, whose job it is to get the crowd pumped up while the rapper is, well, rapping. Nearly every rapper’s got a hype man – who else would say things like “Get your hands up in the air!” and “Wave them like you just don’t care,” as well as to rap along certain lines to help with enunciation and emphasis.

I am not being at all facetious – this certainly is an important job. Rappers, unlike rock singers who get to take a break during instrumental breaks, often rhyme constantly during a song. They need the hype man to step in and help pump up the jam, quite literally, with more volume aurally and physical movement.

That said, Kev Da Hustler did a damn fine job. But, then, what exactly was the purpose of the dozen or so other people onstage? Herein lies our question – what’s the role of the posse?

Most rappers have one – check out any live hip-hop concert video on YouTube and you’ll usually see a bunch of dudes standing onstage bobbing along.

The main role of the posse is, in theory, to connect the rapper to the audience. MC’s have long been artists of the people, rhyming about coming from the streets, about the communities that support them.

While current rappers spouting off about how rich they are might seem to work against this notion, hip-hop begins on the street corner with a bunch of friends making beats and rhymes. Its basis is the people.

So for a rapper to bring his whole crew onstage with him seems to say, “I came from this crew and my success is theirs, too.” The keyword in this sentence is “seems.” The notion of the on-stage posse is entirely noble, but put in practice, the performance just gets awkward.

Sure, the few dudes who rhyme along with the artist (usually just the last few words of each line) can produce a great, booming effect, but the rest of them, those that quite literally are just standing onstage, just look lost.

These guys end up over-crowding the stage, taking away from the energy of the one who the audience came to see – the rapper. And when some of them are sitting on a table at the back of the stage, showing more interest in their cell phones than the guy whose success is the only reason they are even at the show, which several of them actually were, then their purpose is entirely self-defeating.

Now, on the other side of things, many rock ‘n’ roll artists would scorn the idea of having friends onstage with them, preferring the god-like spotlight to be shared by no one other than themselves (sometimes not even the bassist or drummer).

So really, who’s worse off? The rapper who gets lost in his own onstage block party, or the rocker who uses the stage as a self-affirming pedestal?

I really don’t know. I’ve seen both, and neither one produces all that great of a concert.

I will say this, though: Wiz Khalifa has the potential to be not only a Pittsburgh star, but a national one as well.

And while it’s perfectly dignified to use his fame to benefit the lives of those he cares about, come show night, it might be best to leave them at home.