On a breezy summer season evening in Montreal, the air crackled with one thing far cooler than jazz clichés. Underneath the ornate ceiling of the Maison symphonique, an unlikely king took the stage. Clad in a black tuxedo and armed with only one mic, Nasir Jones—higher referred to as Nas—redefined what an evening on the symphony might be. He wasn’t alone. Behind him: a full orchestra, strings shimmering, woodwinds whispering, and an enormous upright bass. On the facet, a DJ spun nostalgia and a drummer saved the heartbeat of Queensbridge alive. This was hip-hop at its most regal, and Nas wore the crown with out flex or fanfare.
The evening kicked off with a symphonic ode to Illmatic, the 1994 masterpiece that didn’t simply outline an period — it canonized one. Carried out by the energetic and exact Troy Quinn, the orchestra threaded by the album’s DNA with reverence and aptitude. Tracks like “N.Y. State of Thoughts” and “The World Is Yours” discovered new emotional weight swaddled in strings and timpanis. But it wasn’t about washing hip-hop in tuxedo respectability—it was about elevation. Translation. As if saying, Illmatic all the time belonged right here. Y’all simply took a minute to catch up.
And Montreal? It caught up quick. The gang — each row packed and balconies buzzing — was locked in. Nas scanned the rafters mid-performance, grinning, “I see you up high!” He wasn’t simply performing to the viewers; he was with them. That was the key sauce of this Nas present.
“If I Dominated the World” arrived like a benediction. No Lauryn Hill on stage, however her voice floated by the live performance corridor like incense. You may virtually really feel the collective exhale of the group, swaying below the spell of some of the visionary collabs in hip-hop historical past. In that second, hip hop wasn’t simply being revered—it was being worshipped.
Later, Nas shifted gears, setting the symphony apart for a tighter, extra streetwise setup—simply DJ, drums, and a piano. This was acquainted terrain, however nonetheless potent. The God’s Son-era tracks received their shine, particularly “I Can,” which impressed one of many evening’s most touching sights: a younger father and his son, facet by facet, mouthing each lyric. A generational baton move, refined however highly effective—hip-hop as heritage.
Although critics have lengthy parsed his post-Illmatic catalog with a jeweler’s scrutiny, Nas proved that longevity isn’t about chasing traits. It’s about proudly owning your evolution. At 50, with three many years behind the mic, his presence is undiminished—clean however sharp, considerate however unrelenting. He stays, undeniably, the poet laureate of the concrete jungle.
In true OG vogue, Nas additionally took a second to shout out one other legend—Slick Rick—whose new album Victory dropped final week, with Nas himself featured. It was a passing of a torch backwards and forwards between icons who by no means actually stopped holding it.
For this hip-hop loving American in Montreal, it was a second of pleasure—of witness. To see Nas not simply rhyme however resonate with a world crowd, backed by classical instrumentation no much less, was a reminder of what the style has all the time claimed: hip-hop isn’t a second. It’s a motion. And actions transfer.
As the ultimate applause pale and the lights started to swell, Nas smiled. He solely wanted one mic. And with it, he turned a live performance corridor right into a cipher, a cathedral, a celebration. Montreal got here to pay attention—and left feeling.
I’d elevate a glass of bourbon to toast the efficiency… if I may discover it in Canada.
all media credit score: Cara Everett
