Kendrick Lamar's Pop Out Concert: A West Coast Reunion and Unforgettable Haters' Ball

4:31 pm

Hed brings out local Inglewood cult hero Rucci and AzChike to perform “Light It Up.” Those two—along with Drakeo, Shoreline Mafia, 03 Greedo (who later said he was invited but didn't make it, and whose style would be challenged onstage by Wallie the Sensei) and a host of others—represented, toward the end of 2010s, an emerging Los Angeles avant-garde that also seemed poised to pass. Deaths, incarcerations, and the vagaries of streaming and radio have greatly slowed that momentum. And still, it's surreal to see BlueBucksClan rap about stealth Prada where the Showtime Lakers were playing.

5:02 pm

Hed's cast skews modern-day to bring out dance legend Tommy the Clown, who stalks the stage with typical authority while a group of young dancers sweep the drum patterns of mostly recent songs – right up to 'Why U Bullshittin?' by Suga Free. elicits a roar from the arena. Beside me: a couple in Death Row shirts and black N95s.

5:23 pm

The mustard comes out to the fireworks and, confusingly, a few bars of “Back That Azz Up.” From there he spends some time doing an out-of-the-box set: “Rack City”, “I'm Different”, “Show Me” and “I Don't Fuck With You”. The collaborators come out for a couple of songs each — Blxst and Steve Lacy get a warm welcome, Ty Dolla does a bigger pop for “Paranoid” — and none, not even Tyler the Creator, gets as enthusiastic a reception as Dom Kennedy , whose “My Type of Party” brings the Forum to a fever pitch. The back half of the set is an extended tribute to Nipsey Hussle, which is boosted by an appearance from Roddy Ricch and a mini set from YG who, one imagines, could have had a career if there was something in the back. of his career that fans were interested in hearing.

6:13 pm

“Fuck Wit Dre Day” plays over the house speakers between sets, in case anyone was worried it wasn't going to make the mark.

6:17 pm

So: “Stan.”

6:33 pm

As the Guru said, it is especially the voice. For a sound as unique as Kendrick, or any number of rappers who hit the stage tonight, there's no one like E-40. The last time I interviewed him, late last year, we were driving in an SUV from downtown LA to SoFi Stadium, which shares a parking lot with the Forum. Somewhere around 110, he told me, “LA and the Bay have always been family. That's the beautiful thing about it: You'd assume we'd have some kind of war or something, but we never let that happen because we're all family.” The back half of his pre-recorded intro to Kendrick's set is drowned out by screams.

6:41 pm

When I moved to Los Angeles more than a decade ago, I worked at what was then called the Staples Center, and since then I've been regularly covering shows at just about every venue in the city. I've seen rap concerts of every imaginable size, ambition, and level of execution. And yet, I've never heard a room go as loud as the Forum in the silence after “Euphoria,” Kendrick's scorched-earth opener. I saw and heard people rapping every verse – except for the young ones, who were referencing Pac and Drake's ridiculous AI gambit.