I've never been a massive fan of live music - although admittedly it's mainly the venues, other people, and the considerable inconvenience of getting home after which usually bothers me; and No Limit being a rap label, I was aware it probably wouldn't even be live music, technically speaking, thus expanding my customary reservations to encompass the possibility of my watching what amounts to a karaoke performance; but it was the No Limit Reunion, meaning even if the whole thing turned out to be a massive pile of shite, it seemed like a once in a lifetime deal and I would be forever kicking myself should I do the usual thing by staying at home. I've been listening to No Limit since about 1996, picking up more or less everything I could find. If it was on the racks and it was a No Limit release, then it was usually worth hearing. Some of it was labelled gangsta rap, but it was always much more than just that; and if No Limit artists were regarded as low rent and lacking class by those who make it their business to provide such distinctions, they sold a fucking truckload of records and put out a lot of music which didn't really sound like anyone else. Of course, it couldn't last, and No Limit had a nervous breakdown around the turn of the century. Fiend and Mystikal jumped ship - as did the in-house production team, Beats by the Pound - C-Murder was incarcerated and Mia X's career seemed to have stalled. Harsh words were exchanged both on and off the microphone. Master P spent at least some of the 504 Boyz second album congratulating himself on having gotten rid of all those losers, many of whom had turned up on the Most Wanted label's Off the Tank compilation to remind us why they had jumped rather than wait to be pushed. Even from afar, it looked messy and absolutely final.
So in 2019, I almost quacked my pants at the prospect of Fiend and the rest back together on the same stage. It didn't seem like something that could really happen; and then it didn't because of the coronavirus; and now here we are in 2022 cashing in on tickets issued at the end of the previous decade.
I didn't know what to expect, and the opening act - some local Austin thing - were underwhelming. This was probably because I'd put in my ear plugs, being an old, old man and all, which reduced the sound level to something more manageable, unfortunately also allowing me to tell the difference between live vocals and the backing track; and it was almost all backing track, not even karaoke, just four blokes jumping about on stage to one they had recorded earlier, serving as hype men for their own record. JayQ the Legend was next, and not only from New Orleans - the home of No Limit - but a lot more watchable. His music, incorporating rap but keeping it open, had elements of R&B, dancehall, bounce, trap, and doubtless many others I've never heard of, and if there was more autotune than I usually like, he made up for it with dynamic stage presence and a passion which didn't feel like career moves.
Fiend hit the stage like a bomb going off, growling his way through hits from his No Limit albums and - big surprise - Get the Fuck Out My Face from his post-No Limit Headbussaz set; and even if it was just a man rapping along to a sound file, it worked because the sound was immense with the sort of bass that tickles your arsehole, the high end all clear, no distortion and - at the risk of committing hyperbole - one of the greatest rappers of all time right there, just fifteen foot away, giving it his grimiest best in the flesh. I nearly lost my shit when he unleashed the Headbussaz track; and yes, unleashed really was the word here.
Mia X was next, and was formidable, amazing, and all of the other adjectives - as I'd sort of hoped she would be. She was always amongst the more lyrical of the No Limit stable, and but for the lack of a New York zip code would probably enjoy a somewhat more legendary status than is presently the case. Time dictated that tonight would be a run through of hits, but she probably could have got away with all three albums in their entirety without anyone looking at their watch. Again, I was aware of witnessing one of the all-time greats in action. Following Mia, Mystikal took the baton, delivering a characteristically twitchy, yelping performance which really brought home the James Brown influence more so than is apparent from the records.
Next was Silk the Shocker, who was mostly great but probably should have been first on the bill; then followed by Master P himself, the guy who started it all. He was never the greatest rapper or the most lyrical, and tonight was mainly hooks and slogans as he sort of jogged back and forth across the stage; but his records work on a combination of balls-out self-belief, not really giving a shit, and raw honesty, and so it was tonight because, even if the man has never been scared to rhyme a word with itself, his charisma radiates from the stage like he's some cartoon superhero.
The mood that had been building all night came to a head with Master P's performance, and as the others came back to drop bars for the posse cuts; and if it wasn't quite religious, there was certainly a gospel element. This was a celebration in every sense, not least that we've all come through - as we're reminded during the slideshow of those lost, Big Ed, Magic, Soulja Slim and too many others; and it really is a we because tonight made it very clear that No Limit is, was, and has always been a family. That's really how it felt at the end of the night, and I wouldn't have missed it for the world.
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