make way for the ess-oh-veeEEEEEEE

i love lady sovereign for a lot of reasons. some of the less commendable ones are that she has made the side ponytail socially acceptable again and that since she hit, trendy girls have been notably less likely to flare their trendy nostrils at my oversized men's kikwears and breakdowns. i don't know how anyone could look askance at the giant skater pants. they've got everything--they're more comfortable than pajamas, their roominess prevents their knees from ever giving way, and the back pocket that reaches all the way down the thigh is the perfect size for a folded copy of the new yorker. i recognize that this is not the intended purpose of the pocket; it was, i believe, originally intended to hold my gat, and was later co-opted so it could hold my white crowns and glow sticks. but i'm a grown-up now, so new yorker it is. maybe if more of those trendy girls held literacy in a slightly higher regard, they'd have a greater appreciation for the utilitarian beauty of the garment.

forget that. the good and true basis of my lady-sov love is that she is a young, tiny, adorable girl who is not only holding her own in but conquering a segment of the music world that has rarely welcomed the likes of her (although the grime scene has embraced women more than hip hop has overall). and make no mistake, she's earning her renown. the girl is fierce. in between-song banter she can throw out two or three improvised lines that would make any grime/rhyme fan gasp and holler, and not only will they be tight and smart, they'll be funny. sharp as a tack, that one, and not at all afraid to belch or pick at her zits or use the C word. naturally, the idea of her playing the paradise sent me richocheting off the walls, and by the time last night's show date rolled around i'd had my ticket clipped to the refrigerator door for about a month.

there was no need for the pre-order, as it turned out. the crowd was surprisingly sparse, given how ubiquitous sovereign was a month or two ago. i thought maybe the problem was that her new album and single had exploded with the american malls' jeunesse doree, who might not be so excited about attending a hip-hop show on a thursday night. but that wasn't it; as happens so frequently lately, i was surprised and then not at all surprised by the preponderance of carefully made-up girls in peasant skirts and flip-flops. it's late october, it's cold, the main act is likely to throw beer at you, but why the hell not? so i hoped maybe people were just skipping out on the openers and would pour in sometime around 10:30, but that didnt' happen either. so sad. at least the folks who did show were interesting to watch. the box to the left of the stage was occupied by some (hopefully intoxicated) college girls who were rocking out a little too enthusiastically for their tiny tops. to my right there was a cluster of fresh-faced, exuberant youths shuffle-hopping awkwardly but sincerely, as though moby had just shown them god moving over the face of the waters and they were feeling so real. and everywhere, everywhere, were middle-aged women in blazers doing the elaine benes twist. sovereign commented on them, actually: "ohhh, we've got some fogeys out tonight. we hate fogeys, don't we? blow-dried-starch-pressed-secretary-businesswoman (she tossed up a delightful little couplet here, the specifics of which escape me now). she's old enough to be me mum. of course, i love me mum. let's hear it from everyone who loves their mum. not you, fogey!" now, i recognize that i'm verging precariously on fogey in the circles i move in, having become accustomed to being the oldest audience member at every musical event i attend, so i wasn't about to berate anyone. but sovereign is, as i've said, quite young--young enough not to care who knows that she can't hold her liquor very well--and it was her show, and she was kicking ass, and no one seemed to mind it anyway.

the crowd saved its energy for "love me or hate me," which sovereign wisely held off on until the end, at which time everyone started bouncing around like superballs in an off-roading 1970 citroen. i resented it only because they didn't do it for other equally bounceworthy tunes like "hoodie" and "orange," but i understand that this song was the single for a reason. they didn't do it for "public warning," though, either, when she performed it as the encor, and that was just wrong. that song is one of the sickest tracks i've ever heard, so unless people were simply paralyzed by their awe, there was no excuse for their restraint. flip-flops are hard to dance in, maybe? it's very difficult to mosh and sip corona at the same time? i'm sure they had their excuses, but i'm not interested in them. i mean, even the fogeys were busting out the moves.

the set was brief, but sovereign was losing her voice and wanted very badly to take her shoes off, so no hard feelings. besides, i'm old enough to appreciate being home by 12:30 AM. and ultimately it's a quality-over-quantity issue: if the girl can cram a huge wad of badass into a tiny amount of space--and hell yeah she can--then she gets to walk away a little sooner than someone else who couldn't get the job done. so kiss-kiss, lady sovereign, and if that was your big black tour bus in front of me on mass ave. this morning, i hope you saw me waving frantically and offering you my banana-nut-bread clif bar.