Concrete Playground

I remember listening to Wu-Tang Clan when I was a teenager in the lovely beach side suburb of Suffolk Park. I'm not quite sure if I grasped the anachronism of middle class white surfies nodding their heads along to music made by 8 members from the slums and housing projects of NYC's 5 Burroughs, but I loved the grit, the cool as fuck Kung Fu samples and the foul mouthed flows.

The Wu tapped into something universal with this sound until they imploded into the debris of crack addiction, death and in fighting after a handful of albums. Founding member and head honcho RZA kept it together and has since carved out a massive career as a producer and MC, relentlessly contributing beats and rhymes to some of the biggest albums of the last fifteen years.

He's also managed to squeeze in soundtracks for Tarantino and appear in Jarmusch films, as well as do some other slightly underwhelming acting. He likes to keep busy. So with this in mind you should probably snap up the chance to see him at The Metro. Oh and it's Valentine's Day too, but I doubt he will be doing love song dedications.