Sweat Lodge

So maybe Nas doesn't hold a very high place in the view of most mainstream Americans. He is typically better known for the huge amounts of controversy that follow him than for his music. Nas has both made people sit up and listen, and shrink down and cover their eyes. But I don't care. When I went to see Nas at Emo's a few months ago, it was like a spiritual awakening.

I'm not a religious person. At all. That's not to say that I'm not a spiritual person, though. And oddly enough, when a hip-hop artist gets on stage and starts talking about God, I listen. I may not hear the message, but I hear the words, and at least those have the power to move me. Nas performed a couple of those types of songs that really did it for me, but it wasn't until I heard "Black President" that I really started to feel the earth shaking and my hands lifting to the sky.

On that ridiculously sweltering August evening in Austin, my spot in the dead center of the crowd, underneath the awning of the outside stage, I had a transcendental moment. The sweat, the heat, the couple of hits out of Donnie's pipe, and the man, Nas, there on the stage. I felt like I was in a Native American sweat lodge. If I had made the mistake of taking mushrooms before that show, I wouldn't be here right now. I would have attained Nirvana and chucked deuces at this world.

Nas, on stage, reflected on 2Pac's previous lyrics: "though it seems heaven-sent, we're ain't ready to have a black President," with a response that we all know and love: "yes we can...change the world..." Standing there, sweating to the point of tears, I let it all wash over me, because I knew Nas was right. I knew Barack was right. I knew my heart was right. And we were.

Yes we did.

1.20.09