If you’ve ever seen Dizze rascal live you are one of many wh have been inducted into a club of the most glorious stature. Forget the stone masons, forget the illuminatti, even forget the super savers club done the local Woolies, the Dizzee live club is where it’s at.
Watching the man take to the stage, I am literally hit, slapped right across the page with his presence and charisma. I know he’s not exactly well built, and I know he looks like something somebody dragged up off the ocean floor, but by golly I’d fuck him, and I’m a homophobic racist.
His flow in inconceiveable, moving through lyrics like a fat kid through… well anything I suppose it’s a fat kid, but regardless his flow is tight. I’ll be honest and admit I can’t really understand a word he says, but he says them fast and in an interesting rhythm.
Out of nowhere and in the middle of the performance, some guys straight up started having a biff. One was quite a bit bigger but overweight and slow to pick up on what was going on. the other a little rocket of a man was all over him like Liza Manelli on a gay man. It was quite a speactle, and I must say distracted me momentarily from Dizzee.
The bang, Look Tight, Think Sharp came booming out of the speakers and we were all friends once more. Arm in arm and covered in each others bodily fluids we danced, oh how we danced.
He had a big screen behind him projecting all of his video clips, and not really having seen any of them before I was amazed. The clip to Hear Them Sirens Coming was gold . Dizzee in a fox fur hood being chased by a bunch of hunters in full red coat and riding hat glory, awesome.
He finished up and the usual chorus of applause begging for an encore flooded the stage. He returned, and with the guy from The Streets as well to deliver a rocking encore that had me quaking in my liederhosen.
We all filed out, thouroughly satisfied with the tasty hip-hop meal we had just been served, which is strange considering the English’s culinary reputation.