gibbs got it

FREDDIE GIBBS: Heather Eidson photos

“Freddie Gibbs, we need you up here now.”

By the time that was shouted out on the Balance Stage Saturday evening, a large crowd had finally gathered to watch one of the few Hip-Hop acts making their debut at Pitchfork.

Walking up to the stage, I had felt a sense of sadness at how few people had shown up to catch Gary-born emcee Gibbs. But I needn’t have worried, as our native son proved to be quite the draw.

Coming out to a rousing reception, one hand holding the microphone, the other bottles of Hennessey and water, Gibbs went right into “Str8 Killa No Filla,” the title track off his most-recent mix-tape release. As the water sloshed out of the bottle and onto the stage, Gibbs began to interact with the crowd.

“Fresh out of Gary, Ind., I’m Freddie. Freddie Gibbs,” he said as the first song ended. “You don’t get love like that anywhere but home,” he said as his fans responded with screams.

I have to admit, as Hip-Hop is not normally the genre I would lean to, I was not sure what to expect from Gibbs.

I should have never worried, as he put on a spectacular show. As he moved around the stage and out in the crowd with great ease, his set became more interactive and the mostly white, hipster crowd responded as if this was the music they had been raised on. Stripping off his T-shirt during the fifth song, Gibbs revealed a chiseled physique above his backwards khaki shorts.

I have to give Gibbs credit. Anyone you can think to rhyme Gary with obituary or testicles with vegetables has got to be in the right business.

Despite his not-safe-to-print lyrics, Gibbs did his hometown of Gary good.

And he gave me a break from all the indie-rock sameness.

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