Philadelphia. Fairmount Park. A test of humanity.
We knew what it was before he hit the stage. Jay-Z, in front of The Roots, in the middle of the city of Philly. Jay-Z’s relationship to the region is strong and that makes for a crazy, crazy night.
He walked, as anticipation swelled, out with an Afro that harkened to Bone Thugs-N-Harmony. The rumors were dead. The trademark locs – gone. Replaced by something else. Some will say it’s just hair. I say it represents Freedom. Nobody’s confirmed it yet, but the body language, the stripped down worker-like clothing said enough. It was time to restore some order.
Jay-Z opened with a medley of hits that transported the crowd back to the era when he ran supreme in the culture. The fans lost it, repeatedly screaming Hova like a congregation recognizing their god. He brought it. Every bit of it.
For me, the night carried a different weight. I was there to take pictures and cover the event. Only a select few were cleared to shoot that close to Jay. It was rough and tumble. Photographers vying for position, limited time, security quadruple-checking every credential. There was a special pass just for Jay-Z’s portion of the Roots festival. Listening while shooting was nearly impossible, so I caught the details later: he took shots at all his ops. Some landed clean like those aimed at Dame Dash. Others, directed at Tory Lanez and Nicki Minaj, required decoding. Either way, he looked comfortable. Back in his zone and unbothered.
Walking through the crowd afterward, I could feel it, loud and unmistakable, the sound of culture pushing back. Fighting back, even if it came wrapped in corporate sponsorship.
Below are some of the images of JAŸ-Z taken by Chuck “Jigsaw” Creekmur.
