snoop-lollapalooza

Last time I stepped foot in Grant Park was to celebrate Obama’s election and the change it symbolized. High on the list was an idea that America was taking a step forward in its racial history, and the crowd reflected that hopeful sprit, a mix of all ages, cultures, and colors.

Grant Park this weekend for Lollapalooza however?  Whiter than Augusta National’s waiting list. Actually 80-90 percent of the crowd fell into one demographic: young, white, hammered and definitely not getting up to go to work on Monday.

Thus the twinges of shame for and regret at the overall un Hip-Hopness of the setting mixed with excitement I felt when Snoop Dogg took the stage. In 97 degree heat on Sunday afternoon, at the same place Obama stood, in a field that smelled like a Mumbai toilet, Snoop stepped up and busted into his set.

Snoop’s an unquestionable Hip-Hop legend and a personal favorite, so no matter the surrounding, I was stoked for his performance. He started with a mix of classic L.A. gang bangin’ with his more recent club hits. Classic tracks like “Tha Shiznit,” and “Pump Pump,” may not have connected with the crowd (many of whom weren’t potty-trained when they originally dropped,) but the underlying fierceness of the tracks kept them into it. Even so, chicken-fried by the constant sun and not recognizing some more obscure Snoop cuts, the crowd’s energy eventually fizzled. When “Let’s Get High,” started up, I was the only one left bouncin’ and chanting “All these N***az and All these hoez aint somebody here goin fuck!”

Many a Hip-Hop artist (including you Kanye who put on a legendarily terrible performance at the same venue) would have written off the crowd as white, lame and clueless and packed in their performance. Not Snoop. He switched up his performance to match the vibe of the crowd. He acted the frontman, letting his backing band do some of the work with ferocious drum and bass solos. And he busted into the frat boy catalogue, covering “House of Pain.”

The crowd ate it up. My cantankerous ass pouted for a while at their poor musical taste. But as Snoop segued into “What’s My Name,” I finally did what Snoop said I should have done all along and started freakin the ho to my right. (Ok it was my girlfriend.)

Snoop’s destiny may be a Vegas lounge act, but don’t let that disappoint you. It’s not his fault he’s such a great entertainer—be it at a alternative festival or Eastside nightclub you will get your money’s worth from the D-O double G.