Eminem short-changed fans with his atrocious sound system inadequate for Wembley Stadium, says Neil McCormick.
On the first of two nights at Wembley Stadium, Eminem was a disgrace. Not that I am suggesting he did anything particularly outrageous or controversial, which, in any case, is his stock in trade. From where I was seated halfway down on the second tier, he looked like he was working hard, hyperactively pacing the stage, arms jerking, wrists twitching, pouring an enormous amount of aggressive energy into his radio microphone. It’s just that I could barely make out a single word, his vocal emerging as a long bleaugh of tone consumed into a flatulent mush of snap back delay, of which the most distinguishable features were a low end rumble of bass and drums echoing off the stadium walls until it sounded like four kits playing in different time signatures. It was the worst sound I have ever heard at a major live event.
Hip hop is a music of language, ideas and verbal dexterity and, despite his penchant for juvenilia, I genuinely think Eminem is the most exciting and significant lyrical figure of the last 15 years. But it amounts to nothing if you can’t make out the words. Occasionally Eminem’s hype man, Denaun Porter, whose job is to stir up the crowd, would bellow out something that sounded like “Laaaannndaannnn maaeauargh”, which I presume translates as “London make some noise.” And London duly did its part.
The 70,000 strong audience were largely determined to enjoy themselves, waving arms in the air, singing along whenever they recognised a snatch of melody, and collectively reciting famous lyrical outbursts, everyone in effect playing a soundtrack in their own heads to compensate for the shortcomings of the actual sound system. Eminem has an aura. He is the Elvis figure of the hip-hop era, and for many it was enough that he was here, in the flesh, delivering his hits in a long career spanning set list. His mentor, Dr Dre came out for a stiff duet, the billionaire headphone manufacturer resembling an ageing LA vegan health-nut rather than a legend of gangsta rap.
His guest slot was effectively the only added element to a flat, uninventive stage production barely fit for a small venue, with a couple of screens either side, onto which were projected visuals that looked like something a kid could knock out on a home computer, and an anonymous band lined up in front of a giant graphic of a ghetto blaster. Many could not disguise their disenchantment. By halfway through the show, corridors were crowded with people gathered around stewards. “I paid 100 quid for that ticket and I can’t hear a ****ing thing,” one man harangued.
If you consider the amount of revenue these concerts generate, the poor sound system beggars belief. Eminem may be a world class talent but he brought a production to Wembley that was not adequate to the job, and the buck has to stop with him. I think everyone who attended has a case for a refund.
