Wu-Tang Clan
Festival Hall, Melbourne
Saturday 31st October 2009

Wu-Tang is touring huh? Oh you didn't see that documentary? If history retweets itself, promoters and punters alike know that getting every member of the legendary outfit on board is a massive feat. So six out of the remaining eight making it out to Australia isn’t a bad effort at all. Apparently the Wu-Tang Clan is still something to fuck with.

Upon arrival at Festival Hall I was greeted with a raspy, over compensating douchebag (for lack of a better term) yelling at the crowd like this was the day everyone’s dreams will come true. You know, finally seeing the whole of the Wu-Tang Clan as a whole!

I was not sold. I was not hyped.

Any serious Wu-Tang Clan fan knows the groups' history of failed performances and no-shows, and thus understands that you are not attending a Wu-Tang show 100% until you see them on stage, all of them there, before your eyes, in front of you. Let's see who we got here: ‘Noodles’ - Masta Killa, 'Golden Arms' - U-God, 'The Rebel INS' - Inspectah Deck, Shalon Raekwon - The Chef, 'Bobby Digital' - The Rza, 'The Genius' - GZA, and DJ Mathematics, the resident tour DJ for the clan. Where is Method Man? Where is Ghostface Killah? Cappadonna?  

The problem for me is that the missing members also happen to be the most flamboyant performers (esp. Meth and Ghost). After studying many a Wu-Tang Clan DVD and VCR recorded tape from a tender young rap fanatic age, I knew all their moves, how they interact with a crowd, who has the best stage presence, and more importantly who doesn't yell and scream into the microphone (hint: U-god, Inspecktah Deck - both have terrible stage voices). Having heard dodgy rumours about the Sydney gig and the Clan's history of not getting along and working as a unit, this show for me was always going to be make or break. And to be honest, high hopes they were not. As a diehard I really needed my heroes to at least meet expectations.

And then… BOOM. Wu-Tang come out beats blazing.'Protect Ya Neck' - oh God this is amazing, the moment I had been waiting for! The energy is craz, people are wildin' out, throwing 'W's and jumping like idiots. Basically if you were enjoying your beer, you're not anymore - it's on the floor with your doubts about Wu-Tang not gracing our shores. I must have heard “WU-TANG” chanted in an almost Homer Simpson-esque tone about 400 plus times. Wu are definitely in the building.

W's are in the air as all of the Clan bring it convincingly, classic after classic being dropped; ‘Wu Tang Ain’t Nothing To Fuck With’, ‘Clan In Da Front’ and essentially all the songs you need to see. I was pleased, hell, even satisfied. RZA asks the crowd to pull out their lighters and mobile phones and put them in the air for a heartfelt performance of Ol dirty Bastard's 'I Like It Raw' and 'Baby I Got Your Money', brandishing homemade banners and the like. It was clear they truly missed their brethren.

Then from this opening half high, the air starts escaping from the Wu-balloon. At about the half way point I actually feel like I don't want to be here anymore. The intensity is running out and their age really shows. They play some of the group's newer solo efforts: cuts from Raekwon's Cuban Linx II and RZA’s somber and slower pace songs selection, which really don't do it for me. I think I even hear some of the newer ‘Chamber Music’ material, and by this point the crowd is lost. Including this diehard Wu fanatic.

All of this is disappointing, if acceptable enough behavior. But it was how they end the show that is the nail in the coffin. All huffed and puffed out, they all just sort of disappear behind the curtains. (No room for a encore? After all this time?) Lights on. Wow. I feel used. So cold. So impersonal. Well, ok if that's how you guys wanna roll.

Wu, this was close to the heart for me. Too bad you had to break it. Maybe they’ll do right on the second trip? (Secret Santa tells me in four months?) If we've learned one thing from this showing, it's: I'll believe it - but maybe not in - when I see it.

Toby Allen