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Hamish McKenzie - pimped out, Toronto

Saturday, April 30, 2005

Pooper Snooper

I never thought Snoop Dogg was much of a talent. His raps never seem to get out of walking mode, probably because he's too stoned most of the time to move his lips out of first gear, and the best parts of his songs are always sung by someone else. Actually, as he proved last night at his gig in Toronto, he can't even carry a tune. He does have a blog, cursory as it is, but that doesn't make him as cool as me. It does, however, make him cooler than Rodney Hide.

But what was I doing at a Snoop concert in Toronto -- especially when Dizzee Rascal was playing on the same night? Well, accompanying a friend mainly; a friend who professes that she wishes Snoop to father her babies. You know, considering his well-documented love of porn, there's a good chance he'd be willing to oblige.

The night had an ominous start. After squeezing our way into the packed-out venue and securing ourselves a spot near a speaker with a good view, some heavy-set, heavily drunk Canuck had the audacity to empty the contents of his stomach on the floor. From what I could discern, he had been eating tomato soup. The affected area was quickly cleared, and a circle of protection from the vomit remained in place until Snoop came on. Which was about two-and-a-half hours later.

After a lively opening set from a Canadian duo (don't ask me their names), the restless crowd was then treated to two hours of filler music from a DJ. Two hours of standing listlessly in one spot has great sobering effects. The crowd got angry. As each new song came over the PA, and it became more apparent that Snoop wasn't yet coming on, loud boos and whistles resounded. Eventually girls with big boobies in tight tops came on stage to throw junk food out into the crowd. Twenty minutes later, a generic MC came on to placate the crowd even further, telling us to be patient because "You're going to be talking about this gig for... a long time". Snoop would be out in 5 minutes, he told us. Another 20 minutes later, Snoop, blazed off his balls, took the stage.

He pretty much sucked.

Most of Snoop's stage banter was of the cliche "Are y'all having fun tonight?" variety, and the tributes to Tu Pac, Biggie et al. were present as always. Man, if it weren't for all those dead rappers, today's rappers would have to come up with half-an-hour's more material for each show. Half-an-hour, as it turned out, constituted half of Snoop's set. So, once you set aside the tributes and dancing around to their old songs, what we got was Snoop plodding through his classics -- 'Gin & Juice', 'Who Am I (What's My Name?)' -- and a couple of his new ones ('Smiles and Frowns', 'Drop It Like It's Hot'). He was going through the motions.

I can be more complimentary about Snoop's dancers -- a very flexible troupe of four delicious young ladies who shook their booties just like they do it on the videos. Damn.

People like Snoop, of course -- but then, most were about as stoned as the Dogg himself. Perhaps the most disturbing thing, though, was the fact that by the end of the night our neighbouring pile of vomit had completely disappeared. For some the most vivid memories of Snoop's Toronto concert will be tomato-soup-spew on the hems of their trousers. Fo' sho'!