Only two words can describe the Busta Rhymes concert in my hometown on Friday. “Colossal disappointment.”
For starters, while perhaps what I expected it to be, the crowd was full of fake people. A lot of rakishly tilted hats with the stickers still on them. A lot of cologne. A lot of Yankees emblems on everything. A lot of suburban kids trying to reflect a lifestyle they’ve only read about. I kept getting looked at like no one had ever seen a guy in an Overkill shirt with a bullet belt before.