When Biggie Smalls said “it was all a dream”, did he realise that it wasn’t anymore? As I stood some three feet away from The Game I realised the cold reality about what it was to dream. The hype machine was a dream, the story telling was a dream, the myth and the man merged synonymous in my mind now floating in front of me were a tangible reality. Two minutes earlier the crowd were anxiously waiting, the DJ constantly itemising his movement throughout the night, “The Game is five minutes away”, “The Game is in the building” and so on, which had left most of the audience wondering if this was an elaborate ruse. Then it happened: he came in, “hooded” with a blood red bandana, a Compton bandito. I was in shock, disbelief. How had the West Coast come to Hull? I had to pinch myself to make sure it wasn’t “all a dream”.
What followed was a 30 minute tribute to the swagger and skill that is The Game. He left no room for disbelief as he ticked off classic after classic, while downing a fifth of a bottle of vodka (possibly a hoax) and several glugs of Dom Pérignon (true). The true effect of his music became evident in the electric nature of his entrance, followed by the serious hole in the atmosphere left after his exit. He rapped every word to his fans often going a cappella with only the crowd to support. He was a rapper in his element, taking no cues and despite the obvious rehearsed nature of some of the actions on stage; he was natural and kept the crowd hyped.
As quickly as he entered he returned from where he’d come from. I luckily managed to catch up with him later to have a few words as to why he’d ventured this far north. My first question: why another album? I was under the assumption that LAX would be his last. I got an answer I was expecting but in form that made a painful kind of sense. After a look of surprise at what I can only assume was the bluntness of my question The Game simply answered “I gotta feed my family”. My second, and what turned out to be my last question before being ceremoniously ushered from his presence was ‘who are you planning to collaborate with next?’ He answered “Hip Hop is like an ocean: you go where it takes you”, I asked the question again and asked if he was in talks with anyone. His answer “Trey Songz. It may happen, it may not”, which made apparent some horrible home truths.
The first was that, this was his day job and whilst the stage light glitters like gold to us, to him this must be tedium, flipping burgers with a mic. The second was that we were witness to music industry pimping. Now there can be many reasons why The Game would be in ‘talks’ with Trey Songz but in this economic climate I have got to assume it’s only because, and I apologise to Trey Songz fans about this, he’ll sell to a market long since closed to The Game. I have read that 50 Cent and The Game had settled their ‘beef’, and The Game did shout the iconic “G G G G Unit” during his set. However, when considering the facts, you can assume that this shady aftermath is the practical implication of a war attrition between the prodigal sons of west coast Hip Hop.
By: Don Moore
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