Like many born post-1988, I didn’t grow up on most of the music I listen today. A bona fide hip hop fan, most of my collection has been sourced over years of hunting and researching. It was of some surprise then, that I realised my first introduction to Arrested Development was not through my own accord, but from the upbeat Australian Post ads that ran about six years ago. Before the days of Smart Phones and Shazam-ing, it took me a long time to learn of the name and band singing the infectious song I now know to be Everyday People. This track, off the album that scored them a Grammy, is probably their best known, and arguably the most defining song. A fresh of breath air to the hip hop genre in the early ’90s Arrested Development were revolutionary in their ability to deal with subject matter diverting from the vein of gangsta rap. Twenty years on and live in the flesh they are still boasting an energy that is spiritual and all-encompassing.
The band opened up with energetic African inspired dancing leaving the men flabbergasted and the women in awe. The seven-piece ensemble consisting of two female vocalists, two emcees, a drummer, a guitarist and bass player worked immaculately together. Brother Speech commanded the stage with an elastic flow while spitting the rhymes to their older tracks. Warming the crowd up were the vocalists, one of which who was moving her booty in ways I can’t even imagine imitating. Girl can dance. Moving through a lot of their lesser-known tracks they segued neatly into the more commercial ones beginning with Tennessee. Speech didn’t elaborate too much on the sombre background of the story, instead focusing on the crowd and its liveliness. It was songs like Mr. Wendell and People Everyday that really had everyone moving and dancing like crazy people, which was very refreshing. One thing that stood out with this crowd in comparison to your regular hip hop crowd was the lack of inhibitions most people were displaying on the dance floor. Especially the 60+ old man decked out in a fedora, African coloured jersey and a large assortment of other interesting accessories.
The audience was lucky enough to witness Speech’s son make a guest appearance while rapping a quick rhyme mid-show. Initially most people were trying to figure out who he was, but when Speech proclaimed it was his son with as much pride as a father could muster, the general mood went from excitement to “awww”.
The highlight of the show though was when they finished with a slower, gospel inspired rendition of Tennessee. In this version, Speech explained the song was written after he lost his grandmother and only brother in the one week. Incorporating a longer break where the bass player had his moment to shine, so too were gospel vocals. She had a voice that could blow an audience away with an a cappella song, so adding in the bands instruments made it all the more spine-tingling. Belting out heart-wrenching notes it was truly moving and evoking. I haven’t seen too many shows that end on such a powerful high.
BY TAMARA VOGL
LOVED: The gospel version of Tennese.
HATED: The queues in the bathroom.
DRANK: Water.
