Live Review

Wu Tang Clan – Manchester Academy

• 11th Aug 2010

Oh joy. The Wu Tang Clan have returned to Manchester in the Full Force Reunion Tour a once in a lifetime experience to be had. Outside the venue there are a plethora of traders selling the souvenirs of a time which will be in the memory of not just Mancunians, but Liverpudlians, Brumies and whoever else has travelled from afar to be in the centre of a musical universe. All of these accents, all of this commerce is building up a feeling rarely experienced. This is something people have been looking forward to since their last tour in 2008 this excitement manifests itself in a number of ways firstly through desperation “Aww please mate, have you got a spare ticket? I have to see this gig” so many disappointed chancers have to be turned away.

Broken English who awake the sleeping giant Manchester Academy 1 with raps about Manchester, football and celebrity awesome in their own right, but slightly drowned on this occasion their impact is blunted. Their main role is to get the party started with their own brand of UK hip-hop, gritty like the North West. Full participation is brought in to the set, “We say Broken you say English… Broken ‘ENGLISH’, Broken ‘ENGLISH’, Broken ‘ENGLISH’”.

Music from the event DJs is interspersed with “WU TANG, WU TANG, WU TANG”, more music and more “WU TANG, WU TANG, WU TANG”. Nothing relieves the tension which can be cut with a knife and is something building up. This pattern goes on for about an hour as the Shaolin kings arrive about an hour late. “WU TANG, WU TANG, WU TANG” continues as many make W signs as if to summon these masters from their jesting with an expectant following “WU TANG, WU TANG, WU TANG”.

The full Wu Tang Clan steps out “WU TANG, WU TANG, WU TANG” with a swagger and are greeted by the sign of the W, the whole posse reciprocate with the same symbol of silent understanding. This is the 37th Chamber, just as dangerous as the other 36 and starting with Bring The Raucous there can be no escape now, you are hooked and with no let up it is hard and pulsating exploding with every off-beat it is impossible to predict what will be next.

The set pummels through Tearz a track, not a feeling, and Wu Tang Clan Ain’t Nothin’ To Fuck With, the classics being dusted off for an airing with poignancy. The deliverance is live and uncut with all the fire of lighters being lit to give light which the kaleidoscopic stage lights can only dream of. They are turned off and more lighters being lit so spiritual entities can enter this heroic free for all. Paying homage to deceased Old Dirty Bastard is an emotional twist in this tale of legends from the hip-hop round table of dreams bursting from the slums of New York. Wails are from the loyal dog like crowd to their rewarding masters and no greater force can be reckoned on this night where numbers create a safety unmatched by anything where the wannabes like 50Cent can only hope to be one day. With the rasping fervour and an aggressive clawing of the pretenders, the Clan do it tiger style, leaving a bloody mess from this natural riot. “WU TANG CLAN, WU TANG CLAN, WU TANG CLAN”.