Concert Review: Lil Wayne

Lil Wayne has had a rough 2009. He has a weapons charge to which he has plea bargained down to one year of jail time, and despite the near-universal acclaim of Tha Carter III, the leaked tracks and advance singles from his oft-rescheduled “rock” album, Rebirth, have yet to find much love. He did release one excellent mixtape late in the year – No Ceilings – but most coverage of Weezy this year found him in trouble or indulgent.

He goes for sentencing in early February, so tickets to Monday night’s Lil Wayne/Young Money show referred to the current run of dates as his “Farewell Tour,” but no one in the near-sold out New Orleans Arena seemed ready to say goodbye. The crowd was on its feet before the first notes of the opener, “A Milli,” and most remained up the entire show, which included a short DJ interlude, a mini-set with Birdman – Lil Wayne’s mentor, Bryan Williams – and the introduction of the new additions to the Young Money roster, all of which slowed the momentum.

Tha Carter III defined the night, with cuts from it sandwiching a set of older material that received as much explosive love from the audience as the recent hits. For the older material, he was accompanied only by his DJ; on Tha Carter III tracks, he was backed by a live band that helped to explain his fascination with rock. At times, it sounded like Living Colour was backing him, and the muscular funk-rock clearly moved him. He danced as if he was knocked backwards by beats, and his rap took on an additional musicality in the band context.

He previewed “Prom Queen” and “On Fire” from Rebirth, and while the former worked better live than in the studio, “On Fire” highlighted the problem with his rock efforts so far. One of Lil Wayne’s charms is his compulsive flow, as his overstuffed lines and overly clever rhymes are markers of someone who feels free in his art. As he confined himself to a verse/chorus structure with words chosen to fit a rock song style – as opposed to a rock-rap – he diminished himself and set aside his greatest gifts.

He never addressed his upcoming stay in jail beyond the language on the ticket, and if there was any hint of something special before going away, it was a show that played as if he never wanted to leave the stage. When he turned over the lead to Birdman and the Young Money crew, he and onstage side kick Mack Maine sat down on a stairstep in front of the drum riser, barking out backing parts as if there was nowhere else he’d rather be. He pointed out members of his family, who overflowed on to the edge of the stage and surrounded the lead guitarist, but they’d likely be there anyway, and he’d share the stage with Birdman whether he was going away or not.

There was certainly no sense that he has lost his swagger. Though he often repeated, “Without you, I ain’t shit,” he nonetheless paid tribute to his personal pantheon of rappers – Notorious B.I.G., Tupac Shakur, Jay-Z, “and Weeeezyyyy,” he yelled. It was funny, but young rappers are going to claim the same list in a few years and be dead serious and right.