Live Review: Nas, MC Dusk

Only a couple of days since releasing her debut single, Way Back Home, Australia’s own MC Dusk, aka Abbie Cornish, is pumped and spitting with intensity from the moment she takes the stage.

Supports slots of this level don’t come easily, but with the momentum of a successful acting career it seems anything is possible. Dusk’s attitude and confidence suggests she knows this as well as anyone. Unfortunately she’s an awkward fit for the mood and context of this show, but even with the crowd giving her near zero, she keeps laying them down as if building the foundations of a high-rise.

As The Genesis seeps out of the speakers, the years count back from 2015 on a large LED screen. When 1994 hits, Nas commences the trip down memory lane, leading the crowd of ecstatic followers through his game-changing debut.

NY State of Mind, Life’s A Bitch and The World Is Yours prompt mass hysteria. With the exception of Represent, moved two places forward, Illmatic is played front to back, and Nas has the room reciting the lines and losing their shit every beat of the way. A single DJ has replaced the six-piece band of past tours, but it’s fitting for this occasion. Not only is Nas in the finest of forms (as usual), he also emits some sense of humility and makes a real effort to connect with the room. For the duration of Illmatic the LED screen is flooded with a collage of videos from the ‘94 heyday, yet the event seems to extend beyond typical indulgent nostalgia. Whether it’s because Illmatic is reincarnated through a myriad other records every year, or that it continues to seduce and inspire, there’s something that makes this set feel more like a celebration of the moment than a mere sentimental backward glance. Album closer, It Ain’t Hard To Tell is turned into a tribute to MJ and, implicitly, all the inspiration that make records like Illmatic possible.  

A fast-paced medley that includes The Message, If I Ruled The World, Nastradamus, Nas Is Like, Hate Me Now and Made You Look, follows. Lain out like a mid-career platter, this run fills much of the gaps and displays a good variation of Nas’ artistry. Stillmatic’s One Mic is the set closer and is translated into a poignant protest of Ferguson and the present situation at large. Nas encores with a sentimental version of Stay (all the malice is left out), and it’s a very fitting touch to conclude the night. Few MCs have made such an impact on the game, and fewer still can deliver such a powerful set with just a DJ and a mic.