Buck 65 - London Islington Academy - 12/11/03
5/5
By: Kevin Molloy
Talented chap, Mr Buck. Or, introducing himself as he walks onto the stage; 'Hi, I'm Rich. Or Buck. Whatever...' Yes, pinning this one down is going to be a problem...
And following two favourable, youthful, energetic guitar-bands, next to all the equipment is cleared from the cramped stage of the more-than-slightly intimate Islington Academy. Drums, guitars, basses and keyboards are gone; all that remains is a microphone, two decks and a small mixer. But Buck still fills the stage in the way a small orchestra might, whilst making every member of the audience feel they might be sat on a sofa, engaging in an intellectual conversation with the man. Such is the genius of the inexplicable Rich Terfry. But Terfry is no armchair-philosopher.
With his subject-matters ranging from the size of his member (apparently, he's 'built like a horse from the waist down'), to, of all things, 'The Iliad' (it's a Greek classic!), Buck doesn't make things easy for his attendance to swallow. But the words practically float in mid-air, and it's as if the assembled can not only hear the poetry that issues forth over those broken, scratched sounds of hip-hop, but they can also read them. There is an unbroken hypnosis over the room, suspended only for applause, and occasional drinks.
Buck himself then... be he requesting (and receiving in excess of expectations) a kiss from a particularly excited girl near the stage, or telling the gruesome story of a cist he found in his ear (complete with a re-enactment of its popping) - he couldn't be more energized, cutting a fine blend of humour and insight, and 'a few lies and a few truths,' then suddenly wheeling to his decks, scratching with a dizzying intensity.
Some songs are recognisable by their lyrics; everything else is either entirely new, or changed beyond easy recognition. The man is a whirlpool of creativity and energy. Every genre is visited across the night, whether a brand new (and unnamed) song ready for the next album, with huge guitar sounds echoing his own angst-ridden words, or a country-hop Woody Guthrie cover. He describes himself as 'folk music' to anybody that asks, is defined as hip-hop, but has more perhaps in common with the talking blues of the '20s.
And Terfry's credentials are growing, despite hailing from the same country as Nickelback and Bryan Adams. He's one of hip-hop's most hotly tipped innovators, he's DJed for the Beastie Boys, and, the ultimate kudos, has even appeared on 'Sesame Street'. With lyrics like Dylan and a creative subversion akin to Beck, mixed up with performances alongside Big Bird - it's no wonder the ladies love him.
And adore him they do. As he pulls the final scratch of a glittering set to a shuddering halt, he announces he's coming into the audience to see how many people he can 'pull'. Given the rush of both men and women towards the front of the stage, it can be safely said that he's wowed all tonight - the evening itself a refreshing reminder that '65's chosen-knack doesn't all have to be of the Ludacris 'pussy popping' variety; it can be introspective, witty and meaningful. And he still gets the girls.
Artists in this article: Buck 65
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