Does 50 Cent glamourize guns? Heck, they’re the star of the show
policies, many of the rappers in his G Unit posse couldn’t be there, including Tony Yayo ( recently released from prison after a five- month stint for a forged passport), Young Buck (who recently reached a plea with L.A. courts related to a stabbing charge), Mobb Deep and M. O. P. 50 promised that, despite this admitted impediment, they would put on a good show, and sure enough, they did, opening with What’s Up, Gangsta? and laying down hit after bass-heavy hit after that.
There has been much debate as to whether 50 and G Unit glamourize guns. After seeing his live show, the debate seems ridiculous — there’s no question as to whether he does. With each song ending in a gunshot, sound effects of guns re-loading, pyrotechnics deliberately made to seem like gunfire, lyrics glorifying gun violence and, oh yeah, two giant screens showing images of guns and bullet holes, firearms were very much the star of the show.
While some apologists might argue that they are merely part of 50’ s operatic re-telling of life on the streets for a poverty stricken black man in America — did the Three Musketeers glamorize swords? Did Carmen glorify violence against women? — the prevalence of assault rifles and handguns in 50’ s live show was distracting to the point where little else mattered.
When 50 and Co. — joined by Banks, former P. Diddy protege Ma$e, and “the first lady of G Unit” Olivia, focused on music, the result was a raging party, with singalong dance floor hits like In Da Club, Candy Shop, P.I.M.P, and standout track Window Shopper getting the crowd of mall gangstas out of their seats with their arms held aloft. As 50 doffed layer upon layer of clothing (though disappointingly, never stripped down to a Kevlar vest) the crowd got hotter and hotter.
By and large, however, it was impossible not to notice the absence of the missing G Unit members, and with just the immigration-friendly crew on stage, the affair was decidedly lacklustre. The graphics on the screens flanking the stage would kindly be described as “ home video quality” and though the flame-throwing gunshot pyro was impressive, the staging, consisting of a painted backdrop of Queens, seemed pretty cheap for a man whose music, when not focused on violence, is singularly devoted to the largesse of the “pimp” lifestyle.
Add to that a technical malfunction which saw the DJ start up the Ja Rulebaiting Wanksta for a second time (perhaps he used to drum for Ashley Simpson) and a particularly abusive move where 50 emptied a water bottle on a stadium security guard’s head, and you have a show from a man who still has something to learn about crossing over to the mainstream.
If 50 wants to preach to the converted, fine (his last album sold one million copies in its first four days; he’ll do OK), but something about the look in his eyes — staring at you from video games, album covers, and even movie previews at the start of his own concert — tells you he wants more.
Elaine Corden is a Vancouver freelance writer.