At this point, one thing that Cam’ron fans are well accustomed to is waiting. In fact, during the four-year hiatus separating his last studio album and his solid, somewhat unexpected new mixtape, The Program, there were not only precious few indications that new music would be forthcoming anytime soon, the sometimes eccentric MC often hinted that he’d actually given up the rap game for good. The announced release date for Purple Haze 2, the already long-in-the-works sequel to his 2004 magnum opus and a natural enough swan song, came and went a couple years back, and interviews increasingly focused on his ambitions in the movie business, leading many to write of him as being retired. The patient faithful however, turned up Tuesday night to Turner Hall Ballroom ready to welcome him back, but, unfortunately, they had waited in vain.
While the crowd wasn’t exactly huge—nicely filling up the tables scattered across the back half of the hall but leaving the ostensible dancefloor completely deserted—it was obvious from the chatter that most were devoted fans of the Dipset founding father. This enthusiasm staved off any grumbling as 90 minutes elapsed after the show’s supposed start time without anyone so much as a sound guy stepping onstage. At one point, the canned background music abruptly stopped, only to start up a moment later with Cypress Hill’s “How I Could Just Kill a Man.” At another, a woman skootched her chair a little too close to a small ledge along the southside of the venue and slipped to the floor, enduring some gentle ribbing as her friends helped her back up. Exciting stuff.
After an hour-and-a-half of sheer boredom, without even the benefit of a hacky, perfunctory “DJ” who usually keeps hip-hop crowds warmed up, the music started in earnest, and that’s when things went from bad to worse. As a few helpers clumsily erected signs emblazoned with their all their social media handles, the duo Jae Mansa took the stage with a distinct lack of hype; the audience only really taking notice when they led off a chant of “Fuck Donald Trump!” which just so happens to be the name of their new mixtape. Once the shared hatred of our sitting president was established, however, they made little impact with their 15-minute set, often stepping on each other’s rhymes and letting songs peter out where they should have an exclamation point.
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Yet really, few acts could make much of an impression with just 15 minutes and an indifferent, borderline-hostile audience to work with, and the one that followed them just sort of proved that point. Truth is, he came and went so quickly that I couldn’t even catch his name (clearly heard him describe his appellation as “like ‘Colorado;’” try Googling that), which is a shame, since he did manage briefly to inject a modicum of energy into the crowd. After playing his “last” song, someone walked on from the wings and whispered something in his ear, and despite the audience’s lackluster reaction, he did one more, after which he awkwardly turned back to the mic and said Cam’ron would be on in “5 minutes.” There was something in his tone that sounded like an apology.
A few minutes later, a voice came over the PA, announcing that Cam’ron’s “flight was delayed” and that he would be in the building and ready to perform in about 45 minutes. To make up for the inconvenience, they offered up a round of Millers on the house, but many opted to simply leave altogether. Other, thirstier patrons soon followed suit, leaving a couple dozen people hanging around with a palpable sense of resignation. Being a diligent journalist (and never one to turn down a free beer), I stuck around as the inevitable dawned on more and more. Eventually, the voice of god returned, officially proclaiming that Cam’ron would not be performing tonight, and full refunds were being dispensed at the door. Turns out Cam’ron’s Milwaukee fans will have to wait a little bit longer.
