Nam White
Neither wind nor rain nor cold could keep The Spin from peeping local MC Al-D’s Meant for the Milk Crate shindig on Saturday night. This installment of the quarterly hip-hop showcase went down at the freshly painted Cobra (the new, bro-ishly named bar in the space formerly home to East Nashville staple FooBar). This was The Spin's first Cobra experience. After shaking off the rain, we cased the joint — upgraded lighting, upgraded bar, a shiny row of pinball machines — while making our way to the back showroom. But even with a new name, we saw the same scenesters and bar-flies, and some of the same staff — carry-overs from the previous establishment. It goes to show that as important as ambience may be, a good bar is more about the people hanging out between those four walls than the paint drying on them.
Music City DJ pioneer Polar (aka Porter Haile, who ran the DJ collective Illest Crew in the city during the ‘90s) was already spinning when we arrived. And though the boom-crack was turned way up, we heard just enough to gather that this was his first official gig back after a 10-year hiatus to raise his daughter. Haile tag-teamed with Milk Crate house DJ Vamp, and if he missed a beat after his time away, we sure couldn’t tell.
During the hourlong DJ set, we caught up with Crate founder Al-D, who’s shepherded his series as it’s hopscotched around the city searching for a home. Started in 2012 as a one-off event at a previous iteration of 12th & Porter, in 2013 Crate turned into a monthly show at the now-defunct Boheme Collectif. The next year, it shuttled between FooBar and The Stone Fox (RIP) before getting picked up by the Nashville Fringe Festival in early 2015 and ultimately settling down as a quarterly event in East Nashville.
“It’s trying to scrape together a scene, a place for us to be,” the rapper and curator told The Spin.
Partiers-to-be who were clustered around the cafe seating got to their feet when Al-D took the stage for the opening set. A white guy with short brown hair, baggy jeans and Nike Dunks, he might seem easy to overlook as just an organizer. But dude can spit.
“Are y'all fully prepared to party in here tonight?” Al-D asked the crowd before launching into his laid-back, monotone flow, reminiscent of Method Man circa 36 Chambers. Vamp supplied the backing track, scratching out lead-guitar-like licks on the 1s and 2s.
Al-D’s set was a warm-up for Racq Music. Racqhel Pugh, as she’s known off-stage, wore slim-fit khakis with black combat boots and silver hoop earrings, roaming the stage and lyrically jogging through verses before suddenly dropping into double-time or snapping off vibrato-heavy vocals. By far her strongest track, the kiss-off-themed “Alice in Wonderland,” was the standout, bouncing up-tempo like OutKast’s “B.O.B.” if it was aimed at your mortal enemy.
Racq had hardly cleared the stage before Nam White took over. Seemingly unable to not thank anyone who had ever done him a good turn, White was accompanied by an ever-rotating cast (at one point, five, plus him, plus the DJ). But despite this prominence and an occasional tempo issue with an odd track, White crushed it. While cost for producing his tracks wasn’t spared, it’s the raw emotion that comes through in his voice that sets him apart. Some MCs are fine crafting stories around smoking blunts and threatening enemies, but White was the sole artist of the night to confront race, politics and poverty in Nashville.
“Marcus Mariota too black to be a Titan,” he rapped on one track. On another, “Fuck the alt-right right in front of them.” And another, “Damn, y’all gave Donald Trump that robot.” (We’re not exactly sure the specific meaning of this last, but we agree with the sentiment.)
By his fourth track, White’s face was slick with sweat, but with the assertion that “Kim Kardashian and Kanye ain’t shit,” he invited his partner onstage to listen to his ode to her, the somewhat cloying “Mani Pedi.”
Stainless
The final artist of the night, the Detroit-born Stainless, ended with a dark note. Stainless is cut from the gangsta rap cloth, and his lyrics are almost cliché in their violence and shit-talking, even as the production level of his tracks dwarfed the other artists on the bill. The one beautiful moment was on his last song, “Mary Anne,” when he invited guest B.A. The Lewe to join him. After yet another verse talking about shooting someone, Lewe’s counterpoint was stark in its contrast, a horrified young man watching children die needlessly on the streets. Whether this was Stainless’ artistic vision or sheer chance, we never did find out. But we’ll be watching for Lewe’s name on future bills.
After Stainless departed, a circle cleared in front of the stage and the microphone was passed around as Vamp spun in the background, starting the “cypher,” or open-mic section of the show. Nashville may not be as known for its hip-hop scene as it should be, but judging by the freestyle talent, there are plenty of potential future stars cutting their teeth in the 615 these days. We lost count after the 15th person took a turn. Saturday night was dark and rainy, but the talent was hot at this, the final Meant for the Milk Crate of 2016.
AL-DPhoto: Jamie Hernandez
Racq MusicPhoto: Jamie Hernandez
Nam WhitePhoto: Jamie Hernandez
StainlessPhoto: Jamie Hernandez
Photo: Jamie Hernandez
Photo: Jamie Hernandez
Photo: Jamie Hernandez
Photo: Jamie Hernandez
