We haven't been able to take payment
You must update your payment details via My Account or by clicking update payment details to keep your subscription.
Act now to keep your subscription
We've tried to contact you several times as we haven't been able to take payment. You must update your payment details via My Account or by clicking update payment details to keep your subscription.
Your subscription is due to terminate
We've tried to contact you several times as we haven't been able to take payment. You must update your payment details via My Account, otherwise your subscription will terminate.

The Pharcyde at Fleece, Bristol

One of several early 1990s hip-hop acts who seemed to confirm F Scott Fitzgerald’s maxim that there are no second acts in American life, the Pharcyde launched their career with a classic million-selling album in 1992, only to sink into creative and commercial decline soon afterwards. Disbanding acrimoniously around the turn of the millennium, the Los Angeles quartet seemed like a spent force until they finally patched up their differences in 2008. An ongoing anniversary tour based around their beloved debut, Bizarre Ride II the Pharcyde, passed through Bristol this week.

If there is any lingering friction between them, there was no sign of it when Derrick “Fatlip” Stewart, Emandu “Imani” Wilcox, Trevant “Slimkid3” Hardson and Romye “Bootie Brown” Robinson bounced on stage, pinballing off each other during boisterous collective rap marathons such as Oh S*** and Pack the Pipe. Still agile and rubbery in their forties, this clownish foursome also showed off their softer side on the slinky, jazzy Passin’ Me By and the lightly psychedelic She Said, which they dedicated to their late producer, the revered experimental studio boffin J Dilla.

Emerging in an era when hip-hop was dominated by the ultra-macho posturing of gangsta rap, the Pharcyde brought a refreshing levity to the scene. This was best exemplified in Bristol by Officer, an affectionate semi-spoof of Public Enemy’s Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos, and Ya Mama, a lively exchange of trash-talking maternal insults that sounded more surreal than offensive: “Ya Mama’s got a glass eye with a fish in it.” They underscored their humorous intent with video clips of the legendary Richard Pryor and stand-up comic Katt Williams holding forth on the subject of marijuana. Two decades later, these party-friendly beats and stoned rhymes have lost little of their intoxicating charm.
Tonight (Wed), Leamington Spa Assembly; Thur, Jazz Café, London NW1; Fri, Glasgow ABC, Sat, Leeds Brudenell Social Club