Judging from the inside of the Second Street Jazz Club you can’t really tell what’s going on. The venue plays host to tons of different musical genres which are listed in bright lights above the club’s entrance. Jazz, Pop, R&B, Rock and Hip-Hop are all welcome – yet tonight’s hip hop crowd plays an odd juxtapose to the restaurant’s bar-grill aesthetic. It feels more like a house party until I look at the stage. Equipped with mic stands, congas, turntables and a covered baby grand piano, the stage is set for tonight’s guests who will mainly be sticking to the two tables and a microphone. I’m standing next to a friend who is playing with the featured guest of the evening, up and coming rapper Shawn Chrystopher. My buddy who is doing a feature tonight with Chrystopher plays piano and sings. His keyboard is set-up on stage and I make mention the use of the baby grand. “I spoke with the owner earlier about playing it” he responds, “They don’t “bring it out” on Hip-Hop nights.”
By the time Shawn Chrystopher hit’s the stage, the room is packed and are awaiting the rest of the line up. Shawn is dead center, mic in hand ready to give the crowd something special, a look of anxious peace in his body language. We’ve all been waiting a while to get this ship sailing and I know Shawn is ready to steer it. “I made me hot, ain’t nobody done shit!” The hook of his first song lay’s an honest blow to the ears of the listeners, who aren’t much more than an arm’s reach from the MC. Shawn seems focused and in a precise zone as he begins spitting his rhymes to the fascinated audience. There is something intimate about his delivery. His play by play description of how he came from the bottom to the top is not off putting or cliché, but rather comes across as a confident boast of sincere triumph, complimenting his articulate and well understood delivery.
Shawn’s original production (which were produced by himself) is a great mash-up with his writing and verbal swagger. One particular song selection gripped the audience, as he shared stories of personal family hardships and dealings involving his parents. The song’s production was a simple piano build and rhythm, and bore no hook but was multiple bars of descriptive growing pains and tribulations.
I typically don’t see too many rap love songs blowing me out the water but the hallmark quality rhymes of loving someone “Until the fish don’t swim” and “The Summer’s not followed by Fall” made even the badasses in the room gush with Hershey butterflies. Shawn’s fearless honesty in his music is a reminder of what art is about, reminding you of the old adage of being true to ones self. His use of his platform doesn’t seem motivated by the shallow shit- and the visual imagery of his words paint pictures that are captivating and relatable. I would check for Shawn’s mixtape, “I wear glasses too” coming out on May 5th. If it’s anything like his live show, you wont be disappointed.
A. Landon
