billy woods @ the belmont
It was a very lucrative night for Le Belmont’s coat check. A line had formed at the entrance of the venue, each person shaking and shivering in anticipation of a sensational evening of alternative rap. Two teenagers kicked the grimy snow as they left and clutched their IDs in disappointment upon being denied entry by an expressionless bouncer. Inside, a large crowd surrounded the tiny stage while drinks poured and poured at the bar.
The show opened with Quinton Barnes, the ever-versatile rapper-producer based in Montreal, who showed off the artistic range of his discography. While his album For the Love of Drugs championed an abrasive, industrial sound, and he had pivoted towards soulful, gospel-like vocals on Have Mercy on Me, this set showed off his most recent opus CODE NOIR, with a more jittery, off-kilter production style with dancefloor appeal. The room quaked as it hardly contained the boomy 808s which underscored the slowed-down vocal sample on “LaLaLaLa”. Quinton’s hushed singing on “(Get Up On That) Damn Floor)” glided over an elaborate, groovy beat reminiscent of a high fashion runway. The metal spikes of his leather jacket twinkled under the sweeping, colourful lights as he danced effortlessly to the sassy, uptempo “Party Girl.”
Soon after Quinton Barnes’ performance, Fraud Perry was sure to stoke the energy of the crowd as her exuberant, in-your-face attitude dominated the stage. She had just come off the release of her first mixtape Goodybag late last year, a short and sweet project full of confident rapping over vibrant trap beats. The flute-like, quirky synth lead on “Pied Piper” provided a lighthearted touch to balance out her greedy, money-hungry bars. “Not Sexy” is a humorous and unapologetic anthem of asexuality, as Perry announces that she is “dropping all [her] hoes” and expounds on her disdain for sex in rhyme form. On “Victory Lap Freestyle,” she celebrates quitting her job in an almost stream-of-consciousness fashion with a few eyebrow-raising lyrics.
As if the two opening artists had not already done enough, here came underground hip-hop giant Billy Woods with a laptop full of instrumental tracks and a lifetime of rap acumen. He had skipped soundcheck and arrived around midnight. On photos and videos, his face is always at least partially obscured or otherwise censored. Somehow, this air of mystique grows even greater when seeing him in real life. He kindly asked the lighting technicians to illuminate him only from the back and leave his facial features shrouded in the dark. Woods was ready to rock. The tense, moody jazz sample on “Asylum” laid the groundwork for him to recount a childhood surrounded by political intrigue and familial conflict in Zimbabwe. On “FaceTime,” he ties together travel, technology and relationship troubles over a slow, lonesome horn accompanied by bright, sparkling arpeggios and a heavy boom bap drum sequence. Fan-favorite single “Spongebob” involves a lamenting bass guitar while the emcee’s dense verses touch on terrorism and the death of his mother.
As the concert came to an end, Woods teased his listeners with an unreleased track from a new album set to release this spring. An ominous string ensemble weaves through his vocals as well as what seems to be a feature from fellow abstract rapper Denmark Vessey. Before the song could finish, the laptop snaps shut and the music cuts. The silence was short-lived as the crowd erupted in a mix of awe and disappointment, but their cries were all for nought. Billy Woods steps off the stage and disappears. The show was over, and fans felt conflicted as they left both entirely satisfied and hungry for more.
by Michael Ji
