It couldn’t have been more nerd.
I gate-crashed an invite-only after-party for a Jurassic 5 gig in Singapore on my own and was the first one there. I was about forty minutes early, which meant I was either overeager or that fans had no respect for time.
The only logical explanation was that the concert ran overtime. I mean, I wouldn’t know. I didn’t go to the concert. I couldn’t afford it.
Still, no one stopped me. There was no door-bitch to give me a once-over with her demeaning stare as if I was a bottom-of-the-barrel plebeian unworthy to be at a fancy schmancy private party. In fact, at 11.45pm, I just went up the lift to the new lounge of a restaurant in Lavender and I hung around like a stray cat.
I mean, I wasn’t alone alone. There was a DJ playing dance music, a non-J5 track. NON-J5 TRACK! I was hoping to be welcomed by a hangover from the live show, but I guess not. And the bartenders had nothing to do. There were a few people there but I doubt they were fans for the after-party. They looked too posh to have come from the gig.
I started stalking Instagram posts: #jurassic5 #jurassic5SG #j5SG – there must be have been around 20 posts. What was happening? Was the show over? Where was everyone?
I was excited and nervous to meet J5. I’m a fan by association but a fan nonetheless. I got into them the moment I saw them perform Concrete Schoolyard on their reunion set at Coachella 2013. Damn, son, I was hooked. They were bouncing to the beat and I was thrown back into the 90s while watching hip-hop music videos on MTV during my summer breaks. I felt a sense of throwback. I finally heard music that did not make my ears ring with the high-pitch electric doof-doof that required me to pop some pills to keep up with (no offense, EDM).
Finally, at around 12.45am, fans started coming in. But no band. No J5.
I was bored of Instagram and square photos, so I decided to talk to people. I wanted to meet fellow fans. Were they like me? Were they polite? Nice? Assholes? Knowledgeable? Clueless?
Time to find out, but just as it hit 12.50am, the after party became official: three members of the band were finally there. It didn’t look like a lot of people were excited, though. The band wasn’t being swarmed or jumped on. I wondered if the people at the after-party knew it was them? Then again, maybe Singaporean hip-hop fans are just respectful, polite people.
Chali 2na was the most accommodating and friendliest of the group. He entered the bar greeting people. You can’t miss Chali. He’s tall. Way too tall to be missed. And you could tell he was enjoying the spotlight, all of it.
I went straight to Chali and went all fangirl on him.
“I think Jurassic 5 is awesome,” I said matter-of-factly. Not too blasé, not too fangirl. A good balance, I hoped.
“I’m really happy and thankful to hear that,” Chali replied amid the noise.
“What’s it like being back touring again?”
“Man, it didn’t feel like we ever left, to be honest,” he said smiling, accommodating my questions and my presence. I could tell other fans wanted to get up close too and I was hogging their line.
I started to get nervous and ran out of things to talk about, so I did what any natural hip-hop fan would do – I rapped.
I fucking rapped. I had no idea what I was doing or why I was doing it, but I dropped my favourite line from Concrete Schoolyard the best I could.
“Just that classic rap shit from Jurassic”
He laughed but he gave me props for it. I was touched. He’s like a gentle bear. A goddamn gentle bear. Feeling I had done my duty as a fan, I moved on and made way for the other fans. I said bye with a big fan girl smile and stopped myself from asking him for a bear hug.
The other 2 members of the group, Marc7 and Zaakir aka Soup, went straight for the lounge and stayed there the whole time. The other guys were chilled, or maybe they were too shy to mingle. But, they were really nice when I approached them.
I pretty much told them the same thing I told Chali.
“You’re awesome,” I shouted trying to rise above the music.
They said thanks. How polite of them. But I didn’t rap for them.
Then, I made away from them when I sighted Akil. He came in about an hour after the party officially started. But I didn’t get to talk to him. He was too busy socialising with his entourage and the only J5 member dancing.
Done with the band, I thought I’d find some friends in fellow fans. But the entire party seemed snobbish. Everyone was in their cliques. I thought the crowd would be dropping it (and their drinks) on the dance floor, mouthing the words while the DJ plays non-stop hip-hop music. I was hoping for any member of the band to grab the mic and get people in the mood. Why is everyone in groups with fancy drinks in their hands?!
I rocked up to the first person I assumed to be a fan: He was wearing a Jurassic 5 T-shirt tucked into his trousers. Definitely a J5 fan.
His name is Michael, a financial assistant. He’s been a J5 fan since their second studio album Quality Control. He brought along three other friends to the gig.
“I agree. I think a lot of people here are just here just because. But I hope your article brings in more hip-hop acts,” said Michael.
Then I met Justin, a venture capitalist in his late-twenties. He was with Doralin, a girl who he was hanging out in the corner with. They didn’t look too excited, to be honest. They did move a little to the music. I approached them.
“I wasn’t too happy with the gig. I wanted more of their older stuff,” he said as Doralin looked at me.
“Were there people singing along to the songs, I didn’t get to go,” I asked.
“Yes, there were people singing along,” he said rather flatly.
I could tell he wasn’t excited about his night. Okay, never mind. I’ll try his girlfriend.
I asked if she was a fan. She nodded her head. She knows about them through her boyfriend. She had no further comments. She really wasn’t into this conversation, the concert or talking to me further.
Awkward. But I took a photo and they flashed me their first smile. Okay, bye.
Tired of realising that the demographic of hip-hop fans in Singapore was made up of white people in finance, I looked for one of my Asian peeps.
That’s when I met Luqman, a Singaporean technician and a dancer, and Nurul, a teacher. Both of them were 24.
“I’m a big fan. I found them online a few years back and when I heard all their albums, I became an immediate fan,” said Luqman, dancing as he talked. I tried to move my head to his rhythm to keep eye contact.
He and Nurul wouldn’t stop moving. Luqman introduced Nurul to J5 and the both of them and their group were the only ones dancing in this entire after-party. It was refreshing and also difficult for me to keep up with their rhythm while talking.
Before I said thank you and bye, Luqman added: “I want more old-school hip-hop groups to come to Singapore.”
I agreed and listened on as I semi-danced awkwardly in tandem with him.
He continued: “It’s always the MCs or the DJs that would have shows here, but it’s never the whole group.”
True. Pity that most of the old-school groups are missing members either through fallouts, new projects or deaths.
But I guess Luqman is right when it comes to old-school hip-hop groups. Without the whole of The Pharcyde, it would just be The, and without the whole of A Tribe Called Quest, it would just be A, and without the whole of Wu-Tang Clan, it would just be -.
I checked my watch when I bade Luqman and his crew farewell – 1.57am. Party was dead.
I thought I’d stay for one more song, go off on a high.
1.58am. Yeah, no thanks. I changed my mind. I was out.
