NPR Music’s Tiny Desk live performance collection continues to rejoice Black Music Month honoring the anniversaries of landmark albums which have formed the course of music and tradition. Wiz Khalifa pulled as much as rejoice 15 years of Kush & Orange Juice, wanting like he by no means left the studio—cool, calm, and fully in his component. Watch Wiz’s Tiny Desk inside.
The Taylor Gang boss introduced his signature laid-back vitality to the intimate collection, performing a easy set of fan-favorite tracks that reminded everybody why his sound stays timeless.
Wiz delivered a vibey and nostalgic efficiency that tapped into the core of his early catalog. Backed by a band of Tiny Desk veterans, Pennsylvania natives, and his longtime collaborator DJ Bonics, the Pittsburgh rapper reimagined six tracks with a cool, jazz-laced polish. The set opened with “Pink Eye,” gliding right into a medley of mixtape classics like “Mezmorized,” “The Child Frankie,” “By no means Been,” and “Up.” Every music unfolded with a relaxed precision, merging stay instrumentation with Wiz’s signature laid-back supply.
However one thing was completely different. All through many of the efficiency, Wiz stayed quiet—targeted, introspective. Whilst NPR’s Bobby Carter prompted him to have interaction, he remained locked in. It wasn’t till the ultimate music, “Crime Bud and Girls,” that the second cracked open. Wiping away tears, Wiz lastly addressed the room: “You made me cry. F*** y’all!” he joked by emotion.
His father and shut pals have been within the viewers. He was performing not simply music, however reminiscences. Kush & Orange Juice wasn’t only a mixtape—it was a second in time that made Wiz Khalifa the individuals’s stoner-poet. And now, with Kush & Orange Juice 2 reflecting a extra mature model of that sound, this Tiny Desk turned a sonic bridge between previous and current.
The efficiency didn’t depend on spectacle. It thrived in stillness, letting the music and nostalgia converse. With Kenneth Wright on bass, Uncle Bubz on keys, Russell Gelman-Sheehan on guitar, Kendall Lewis on drums, and DJ Bonics on turntables, the vibe was lush and stripped down—like a hazy, soulful jam session in your cousin’s basement.
Wiz Khalifa’s Tiny Desk wasn’t loud. It didn’t have to be. It was a love letter to a mixtape, a metropolis, a time, and the individuals who’ve grown with him each excessive step of the way in which.
