The MC that refuses to stop hammering

I went out of my way to see MC Hammer last night. Not that there was a whole lot on my schedule, but I planned an evening around the man born Stanley Kirk Burrell who happens to be credited with bringing “2 legit 2 quit” into the lexicon.

Yes, I realize how this sounds. It’s on par with searching out a foot willing to give your balls a kick.

And, frankly, the only thing that might be more pathetic than seeing MC Hammer is blogging about the experience of seeing MC Hammer. But this was something that needed to be done. For I didn’t know the emcee still performed

So I met a group of co-workers and we made our way to the metro, laughing. Most of us, myself certainly included, were hoping for only one thing from the Hammer Man: The pants. “God damn I hope he is wearing those Hammer pants.”

Nobody in our group could name more than three of Hammer’s songs, or knew if he had more than three songs. To tell you the truth, I think I was the only one who could name the third. I remember seeing him perform the “Addams Groove,” the featured song from the Addams Family motion picture, on Saturday Night Live. It was a reference that didn’t win many cool points I could tell. Maybe because I knew the song’s title.

Excitement had reached a fevered pitch, as if brewing tea were ready, when we detrained at the Federal Triangle metro stop. This was the venue Stanley Kirk Burrell had been reduced to (the stage was literally steps from the exit of the metro). And judging by the number of people there initially, it looked as if we’d have an excellent opportunity to touch the man who’d made a career out of telling people that that particular sense couldn’t be done.

Then I proceeded to get drunk, really drunk. Sobriety and MC Hammer didn’t sound appealing. Shit-faced and MC Hammer sounded fucking awesome.

Waiting at this uppity bar in plain view of the stage, I proceeded to listen to hands-down the worst R&B I’d ever heard in my life. Not that I’m a Rhythm and Blues connoisseur by any stretch, but these guys made R. Kelly sound messianic. The group was the first of two opening acts and they did mostly a cappella numbers, with one member even in charge of what seemed to be the horn section.

When the second act finally completed, the Master of Ceremonies waited for over 30 minutes to take the stage. The performer still knows how to toy with the crowd. He’s a hammerin’ puppet-master with a world full of adoring pawns. Or maybe that’s hyperbole.

Chants of “Hammer, Hammer, Hammer,” and “Hammer, don’t hurt em,” continued to rain down. With fits of laughter almost always following the yells. Which made me feel kind of sorry for the guy, because I wondered if he knew that the clown aspect of his alter ego was the reason he garnered an audience at all (even one that didn’t pay a dime).

When Hammer finally walked out, I realized there was a decent-sized crowd waiting for him. And people erupted. It was as if Barry Bonds had just shown up at a Human Growth Hormone testing lab. There was genuine excitement in the air and some disappointment that he was not wearing his trademark pants. Hammer’s pants were not Hammer pants. In fact, they kind of looked like Dockers.

He was dressed in all black with sunglasses and a bandana. He sang the few songs we knew, minus the Addams Groove. I can’t even tell you if Hammer’s a great performer or awful. Maybe somewhere in between. I mean the music was certainly awful, but the ensemble of dancers he had was downright nasty. They knew how to shake it.

The highlight of the evening had to be when a fellow emcee joined Hammer, who went by the name of Pleasure Ellis. Pleasure gave a speech, while rapping mind you, about the benefits of safe sex. He kept screeching, “If you’re going to have pleasure, oh pleasure, I say pleasure, it’s gotta be, yes girl, ya know it’s gotta be, chocolate girl it’s gotta-got to be, you know, safe.” Or something like that. The refrain might not be verbatim but it’s damn close. And then Pleasure endorsed Trojan as his prophylactic of choice.

This was all followed by Hammer telling the crowd he did not mean to have his last child with his wife.

Unbelievable.



So unbelievable that when I got home I had to check out a few things about Hammer’s life: “His rise, his fall, his redemption.” That line I stole from a Hammer tribute Web site.

The site chronicled how a dude with a net worth, at one point, of $33 million can go bankrupt. Hammer in his hey day owned two helicopters, invested over $1 million in Thoroughbred racehorses, paid his entourage of 200 people a total of $500, 000 a month, and leased a Boeing 727. And there are so many more accounting anomalies that it moves beyond ridiculous into a realm all its own.

My favorites have to be that he repeatedly bought platinum gold chains for his 4 pet Rottweilers and once had a dishwasher installed in his bedroom so that he could easily, “clean up after a midnight snack.”

If you want to hear from the man himself, check out his own blog at: http://mchammer.blogspot.com/

Whew, MC simply dropped the hammer last night. And it's made today awful thus far.