This second evening for me was a little less eclectic than last night but no less fun. As a music lover there is nothing like hearing an artist who has little notoriety but who can blow your mind and leave you wondering how they’ve gone unnoticed. Yeah, I could have gone to see Big Daddy Weave or Tree 63, but why? They’re famous and a bunch of folks have already heard them. I wanted to see the heart of the music industry-- the desperate indie artists who usually can’t get a second mention, even in the pages of this illustrious magazine….but not because they don’t deserve it.

So before my listening adventure started I got all excited and marched a bunch friends down to a show that is taking place tomorrow night. I’m all excited to see Macho from New Breed and NYC hip-hop underground legends, the Remnant. We walk up to the door of the this club and it’s locked and I’m looking kinda dumb. To protect my fragile music-guy-in-the-know ego I coolly redirect our little posse to our next destination, the Pass the Mic showcase at that skanky club I was stuck at last night. This place is an encyclopedia reference for underground clubs. For the uninitiated, go rent 8 Mile (no not you junior, it’s Rated R) and check out where Rabbit did his thing. Dark, ugly and plastered with posters from every band that has ever played there and tonight it was more than perfect. Unlike my experience last night the place was packed wall-to-wall with heads ready for the best Christian hip-hop from all across the nation. After a rather disappointing experience at the Why Hip Hop forum this afternoon, I needed to be in a room watching groups from all over with different styles and different experiences and who could still be considered Christian rappers without having to unload a half hour long doctrinal exegesis lesson on the crowd at every opportunity. Not that there is anything wrong with that sort of thing….. Sometimes sowing requires muscle and sometimes, maybe more often than we’d like, it requires finesse and care. There is room for all kinds of sowers in this Christian music thing, isn’t there?

Anyway, indie hip-hop artists of every style and level of expertise mill around outside and inside the club. Everyone is smiling and laughing and sharing stories, reconnecting with old friends and making new ones. Everyone had flyers for other shows they might be doing, while others had entire entourages (actually it looked like they just got all their cousins together) to hype their upcoming releases. It was truly all love and happiness tonight. This was a time for Christian hip-hoppers to give each other a big warm welcoming hug during a week that they could really use one. Oh and did I mention that there were some absolutely amazing performances.

Note: it is important to note that I am a music critic and a music snob. I have an unusually big love for music of all styles and care about the details of music more than the average bear. I hate almost everything and I get so much stuff that I have to fight being a little jaded, as if you couldn’t tell. But at the same time, when something touches me, I get floored because it has to hit so hard. Tonight that happened to me again. When former DC Talk dancer and local fave Shonlock hit the stage with full band you realized, in case you haven’t seen or heard him that you were looking at someone so special that if given the opportunity he could become a more talented version of Nelly (I know….how tough can that be?)—looks, sing-songy party hooks, charisma, passion for Christ, lyrics and captivating stage presence for days. He then turned the stage over to super fast rising New Jersey MC, MOC. Formerly a solo act, MOC is now a three piece throwback to the heyday of Salt-N-Pepa. I was seriously loving their dancehall reggae tinged stuff. I’m partially West Indian, I’m kind of a victim of my heritage- when dancehall beats drop I get so happy I can’t help myself. The energy and the love just seemed to keep flowing with watchers mulling in and out throughout the night to meet artists and exchange information. No pretentious recording and distribution finagling, no massive gulf between the artists and their fans, just a bunch of folks who love hip-hop sharing with each other in love.

Big Rec from national rap conglomerate Mass Reality, dropped a few of his polished radio-ready rhymes with the help of ManChild of Mars Ill. Of course everyone went crazy but not as crazy as they went when former Three 6 Mafia member, Mr Del turned the Muse into Crunk central. Piggybacking on the super ultra funkiness of Mark J (party rap lovers beware, his countrified track “Doe See Doe” is so ridiculous I am still beside myself about it), Mr Del came in, as expected with about 1,000 people on that VERY small stage. It seems like whenever I see him perform I am amazed at two things: 1) the fact that there is always more people on stage with him and 2) the fact that when he does crunk music—southern style rap with minimalist beats and lots of near punk rock-like crowd participation (you have probably seen silly Lil John or the Ying Yang twins with their stupid pimp cups and gold teeth fronts), I almost, without fail, get winded by the second song…..and I’m not even dancing to it. That many people being loud and dancing around at that level of excitement for a whole set is unbelievable and pretty irresistible at times. Some people from the Northeast like myself, may have doubts about how crunk music isn’t really true to hip-hop roots, but I will probably get Mr Del’s new release later this summer and try to review it because, like it or not, crunk is the junk right now. And besides, they nearly 15 people with shirts and picket signs saying “Mr Del is the Future on August 2nd” and I am easily influenced by peer pressure.

I’m too tired to go into my shameless attempts win an iPod at the New York Underground showcase, hosted by radio and (Dish) TV personality Rebecca Blacksmith, an old college friend of mine. I stayed long enough to see P.U.R.E., a youthful, poor man’s Linkin Park. (If you like your music heavy and kinda screamo,watch for Kronicles, the band that followed PURE.) And, in case you are wondering, no I didn’t win the Ipod. I quite trying and left to catch Ashley Cleveland and former Superdrag singer John Davis in an intimate church setting. I got my own superdrag when I arrived only to see the last 10 seconds of a surprisingly upbeat and engaging Jars of Clay set. Surprised at that oxymoron and tired of being on my feet I finally went back to my nice hotel room to do this entry and drag myself to bed for a few hours of sleep. Talk to you tomorrow…..oh wait, it already is tomorrow. I mean, I’ll write more later this morning….