Stormzy @ OPEN

Grime is very much a South London ting. The vernacular and terminology comes straight from the hugely mixed streets of that hood. Not much of it trickles up to the furrowed fields and spires of gentle Norwich. But hell. We were so ready for a filthy, full on adventure straight into this world. With the legendary Wiley and Miss Dynamite's brother Akala amongst others very recently hitting our city up, and gaining fans right left and centre, it was bout time the Prince of Grime, the statuesque Stormzy to pay us a visit. He's got the best voice in Grime, deep and heavy, and his rapping is absolutely a thing of beauty. Just check out his cover of Drake's 0-100 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XDkSCBdyUuI. Less intense than Bizzle, more confident than JME, he really cuts my mustard.

This night was originally booked for OPEN's club room but such was the demand that it was moved to the main hall. And sold it out. That's one and a quarter thousand people. The clientele definitely fits into OPEN's youth venue tag; almost exclusively 14-18 year olds in monotone sportswear trying to look cool, but looking INCREDIBLY EXCITED. It's wicked to see them crowding right up to the barrier from the moment they step in, getting down to the grime and hip hop classics from various DJ's onstage. It's rare to sense this sort of palpable thrill in Norwich at a gig. They all know all the words. It's marvellous to see. The sound is superb; loud, beefy, and with the sort of bass that speaks directly to your internal organs. I'm moving already.

So. Doors at 8. By 10.30 we were still waiting. Where Stormzy at? We check his Twitter. He's been to see Chelsea play, and then gone and got a train. Wot no driver? He seems distressed about the long queues snaking outside the venue (due to the rule that those aged 14-18 needed an adult with them) and assures fans he's on his way, in a taxi, to sort it out, fam.

11.00. Still no Stormz. The kids seem pretty happy just bouncing about to JME and a bit of KRS One though, so it's all good. I remember the curfew is midnight. Hurry up and bumrush the show, Stormz.

11.15 Hoorah! Stormzy's finally appears onstage fully Adidas-ed up, and apologises for his delay. He teases us with a few bars of his tracks, just getting us going and then pulling back each time. The kids are fully hyped, and there's a touch of aggro amongst some portions of the crowd. Not in a nasty way; this is Norwich. Asked to rep our hoods out loud, we shout "THE GOLDEN TRIANGLE!" It just doesn't have the same ring as "BRIXTON MASSIVE!". We tried. 

We're into it. There's grinding going on. Considering there are a lot of excited young people here, it feels under control and like everyone's digging the good vibes.

One of his biggest hits Know Me From starts in, and the place goes wild. Then the mic goes silent. Stormz is mute. There are no sound engineers onstage, and despite him calling out for one, and his whole crew being onstage, no one comes to help. It's like a cold shower. Like he's pulled out prematurely as we were getting so close. Like an emergency stop. We're utterly thrown. The music starts up, at half the volume. Stormz tries another mic. It's echoey and the whole thing sounds like I'm listening to it on a shit radio. Heartbroken. Still no sound guy. Another 8 minutes go by. Still no sound guy. The magic's dissipated and it's left us totally dissatisfied and aching with what could have been. Stormz is clearly pissed off and disappointed. He's come on a TRAIN to NORWICH and it's all BROKEN.

What happened was this: Know Me From made folk so excited that they bounced too hard against the sound desk and broke some vital wires. 

He leaves. We leave. It's awkward. 

He's since promised us a free show to make up for it. I'll give mandem another shot at rocking my world. But just one more.