Concert Review: Nas @ The Queen Elizabeth Theatre, Toronto

Nas.

“I felt like all this shit was always here, waitin for me” says Nas, recalling his first moments in the hallowed studio inside Columbia Records. That was where he would record one of hip-hop’s most beloved classics, Illmatic.

The revival tour is nothing new these days. Everyone who had their heyday in the nineties has taken one (or two if they were lucky) of those records on the road because it’s a win-win for both the artist and their crowd. For Nas, the Time is Illmatic tour is more than just a chance to relive his most defining moment – it’s a chance to prove that the album means every bit as much to him.

While Nas’ performance was the second part of the evening’s festivities, it’s the reason the Queen Elizabeth Theatre was sold out for two shows in one night. DJ Green Lantern (Sirius’ The Invasion and long-time mixtape collaborator) did the hype-man thing for about five minutes before pulling the trigger on “Genesis”, Illmatic’s intro. True to promise, Nas kicked things off with “N.Y. State of Mind”, one of Illmatic (and hip-hop)’s most iconic hits. Need proof? For nearly every song he’d perform that night,  Nas only had to belt out half his lines, because he had every hip hop head in attendance to complete them for him. Vibing on that, Nas took time to talk to the audience, telling us (like almost everyone does) about Toronto’s fine-ass ladies and also sharing a comically-sized blunt with someone in the front.

Nas has brought Time is Illmatic to festivals and small arenas, so the notable intimacy of the considerably smaller Queen Elizabeth Theatre gave character and weight to this performance. Beyond that, the documentary that preceeded it was a 90-minute primer that illustrated just how influential an album like Illmatic was throughout hip-hop’s far-reaching community. Like the album itself, Nas’ story is a tapestry of memories, textures and boasts. It begins with recollections of Nas’ pain-ridden childhood: a broken family, marginalized by a joke of a system, along with daily instances of violence, and crime. Touch points start with Nas himself, his brother Jabari (Jungle) and his father Olu. Their grim tales of life in the Crown Heights housing projects contrast brilliantly against the wild colours and machismo of the early eighties’ hip hop explosion, which transitions into endearing teenage photos of Nas in very eighties-inspired getups with his crew and video of their dance routines. Nas might have a hardened street poet image on lock today, but back in the eighties, everyone danced.

To be clear, the film’s strengths are in the story of Nassir Jones. The most insightful (and heartbreaking) scenes – the ones that really fleshed Nas out as an artist – came then.

Which isn’t to say the story of the album’s creation, process, collaborations and supporting cast are weak; they just serve a different purpose. For each sound bite from the people Nas influenced (Erykah Badu, Kendrick Lamar) there was much whooping and clapping. For every added perspective from Illmatic’s legendary production team (Q-tip, Large Professor, DJ Premier and Pete Rock), the crowd (entirely made up of hip-hop heads) howled as if they were there in the flesh. As important as it was to reflect on Nas’ personal story, it was also important to shed light on his artistic influences, although the film might give those a little too much screen time by comparison.

Mid-way through, Nas states that his vision for Illmatic was “to create a soundtrack to my neighbourhood at night.” The hustlers, the danger, the desperation and (of course) the police. The samples are menacing and the rhymes were eons ahead of their time, but it’s the imagery, metaphors, heartbreak and rage that made this album what it was. Even the tale of its cover (the childhood photo was taken of Nas the first time he’d seen his father in many years) created new dimensions for the album. Nas also takes us through some of the photos in the liner notes – him and his crew from 1994 – and points out which of those guys are in jail or dead, and which ones he can still see. Tragically, there are more of the former than the latter.

Were Nas to just come out, perform Illmatic and leave, it would have been fine. At 41, Nas still has every bit of fire he did as a hungry 19-year-old. Thing is, he believes the album is more than just a collection of head-nodding hits. It’s his most passionate artistic expression, built on foundation that’s equal parts triumph and tragedy. By providing that level of background for Illmatic, its relevance took new form and his performance turned into the perfect epilogue for a timeless story.