Illustration by Alex Fine

Me Against the Musiq

Two astounding acts open for a hometown favorite. Humiliation ensues.

by Brian McManus

To multiplatinum, Grammy-nominated soulster Musiq Soulchild, HOHO offers this warning: You’d better watch your back, player. Your humility is on the line.

As a headlining musician there’s nothing more embarrassing than being blown off the stage by an opener. Well, maybe one thing: being blown off the stage by an opener in your own hometown. Twice. On the same night.

HOHO mentions this because Friday Musiq is tempting the gods of live concert entertainment in a way not seen since red-headed teen then-sation Tiffany had her ass steamrolled by New Kids on the Block in ’89. Things this weekend could get similarly ugly.

Musiq is no pushover. He’s a major talent, one who rode the at-one-time fully fueled neo-soul rocket into the outer limits of R&B radio stardom, and has since managed a career after it lost steam and came crashing violently back to earth. It’s just on this night he’s simply outmatched. Let’s meet the potential shamemakers.

First up is Raul Midón—the New Mexico-born, New York-based flamenco- and jazz-infused acoustic guitar prodigy with jaw-dropping, show-stopping talent. The words “flamenco,” “jazz” and “acoustic” don’t necessarily rank high among things that get HOHO all in a tizzy, but Midón’s stunning State of Mind is a revelation, one that becomes more impressive with each listen.

The album’s 13 tracks brim with optimism rarely heard in modern music (good modern music, anyway), all while hopscotching an impressive array of genres that range from soul to pop, folk to jazz and Latin to old-school soul.

Midón has been blind since birth, and his lack of sight informs the way he’s learned his instrument. He plays the guitar almost as though it were a drum, employing a slap style steeped in nuance so otherworldly and original HOHO was just able to type the phrase “slap style” without gagging. Midón’s able to eek notes out of six strings in unimaginable ways, and his quirky, unorthodox style is the reason YouTube was invented. Get on it.

Once there you’ll be transfixed by Midón’s performances like hundreds of thousands of others who’ve garnered him an impressive number of views. You’ll be amazed at the ease with which Midón alone is able to effortlessly create a sound unequalled by four guitarists, casually tossing in harmonics, hammer-ons, subdivisions and other terms usually reserved for only the geekiest of guitar geeks while coolly managing a stunning grace. Midón’s right and left hands are doing about three things apiece with every strum when, suddenly, he also manages to start playing trumpet. Sorta.

No spoilers here. But listen to the title track in a minimized window on your computer before watching a video clip, and thank HOHO later.

It started innocently enough. HOHO remembered seeing Michele upstage Nas on an episode of Letterman. She sings the hook on his “Can’t Forget About You,” and, perhaps excited to be on major network TV for the first time, she killed it while the Illmatic star sleepwalked through the segment. When her debut I Am arrived in the mail, HOHO put it on his iPod and started listening to it while doing light housework, enthralled by the rare Aretha-like boom possessed by her 24-year-old voice.

Soon HOHO found he couldn’t get enough of the empowering anthem “Good Girl.” Every once in a while he’d down a glass or six of sangria left over from his anniversary party, and sing along to it countless times before his concerned wife would politely tell him to shut the fuck up already.

But it was too late. “Good Girl” was in HOHO’s wine-and-fruit-laced blood. Imagine a version of TLC’s “No Scrubs” that manages to escape being shallow, or the 384 pages of Leslie Bennetts’ The Feminine Mistake boiled and condensed into four minutes, proudly and defiantly spitting on the grave of the outdated sugar daddy concept once and for all. Good girls, you see, “Got they own dough/ Got they own flow/ Ain’t lookin’ fo’/ A sugar no mo’.”

That song acted as a gateway drug to the rest of I Am, an album whose up-tempo hits deliver an Amy Winehouse vibe without all the “What kind of crazy marketing ploy have I bought into?” baggage HOHO (unreasonably) carries when listening to a Brit with rockabilly tats and an Elvira bouffant sing soul music.

The slow jams—and there are plenty—on I Am recall “Atlantis”-era Isley Brothers: keyboard-heavy, steamy and dripping with feeling. Plus, Michele looks worlds better than Ronald ever has.

For that matter, she looks worlds better than Musiq too.

Raul Midón? He looks kind of like Damon Wayans. But HOHO’s getting off topic. Damn sangria.

Anyway, Musiq—you’ve been warned.