Perry Kostidakis

Editor-in-Chief

I almost didn’t write this, because at this point, what is there left to say about Chance the Rapper that hasn’t been said?

Specifically, what haven’t I said about him? I’ve written about “Coloring Book”, and then his takeover of Bonnaroo. At this point, it’s pretty obvious that the man (I say that as if he isn’t a year older than me) has become a force to be reconciled. Shortly after his Bonnaroo takeover, he appeared on the ESPY’s, performing a song he’d written just days before in a tribute to Muhammad Ali. If you believe in the idea of “arriving moments,” this would’ve been his, except he already had two this year: his verse on Kanye West’s “Ultralight Beam” and then the dropping of “Coloring Book.”

He’s a household name at this point. My mom loves Chance so much that she hums "No Problems" and "Blessings" on a consistent basis. Two weeks ago, I was a counselor at St. Stephen’s Summer Camp (a Greek Orthodox sleepaway camp) and Chance was a consistent theme throughout the week. I made a video to “Blessings (Reprise)” and it resonated with the campers as much as it did the adults and priests in attendance. The aura of Chancellor Bennett has permeated every culture, every person.

But, no moment, not Bonnaroo or the ESPY’s or even Friday night at Lollapalooza when he was introduced by Dwayne Wade during a Flosstradamus set, could come close to Sunday night at the Metro in Chicago.

Announced that morning, tickets were only sold in person in an effort to avoid scalping (which, much to Chance’s chagrin, still occurred.) The line to get into the venue showcased the 1100 capacity crowd, wrapping around the front of the building and snaking as far back as it would allow.

Doors opened at 10, and attendees were greeted by an amazing DJ set by Stefan Ponce*. He ran through every hit you could possibly think of, and the crowd responded back in tenfold, rapping along with the same intensity that you’d expect of an actual performance. It set the tone for the night, in the most perfect way possible.

*Ponce, if you didn’t know, is a producer who’s worked extensively with Childish Gambino, Vic Mensa and of course, Chance.

After being at a music festival for the last four days, where people pile into crowds without having even a sliver of interest of who is actually on stage, diving straight into an environment where every human was there to get a glimpse of Lil Chano from 79th was otherworldly.

On top of that, being a Florida transplant in a Chicago crowd allowed for a full experience of seeing one of their own make it. I’m a washed 22 year-old who just wanted another chance (heh) to see somebody who, in my opinion, puts on a show better than anybody in the world. For the kids in the audience, who interspersed faces of pure awe with the biggest smiles in the world, there was a vision of them on stage. Six degrees of separation never feels more real until it’s somebody who could be you up there on stage.

Chance ran through pretty much the same performance that he was putting on during the Family Matters tour, and by that I just mean which songs were played. No two Chance the Rapper performances are ever the same, a testament to the backing band ability of Social Experiment as well as Chance’s talent for riffing through the lyrics with the same intensity and variability as a preacher during his sermon.

For somebody who has performed on the biggest stages in the country, who played a huge hand in helping make Kanye West’s latest album, Chance still seemed genuinely shocked at the amount of words that those in the audience knew. It’s easy to recite the lyrics to, say, “No Problem,” given that it came out a few months ago and became a summer anthem. But when the audience started rapping lyrics from “10 Days’” “Brain Cells” before he could even start, the biggest smile crept across his face. Several times, he’d pause his own rapping just to take in the phenom of hearing a capacity crowd scream his own lyrics back at him.

Perhaps this was best highlighted when he performed his scene-stealing verse from Kanye’s “Ultralight Beam.” It’s a verse that represents triumph and redemption, one that when I hear, makes me feel like anything is possible. The audience rapped fervently along, and when “I made Sunday Candy I’m never going to hell/I met Kanye West I’m never going to fail” came up, it was screamed back with such intensity that it made those words from prophecy into truth.

Chance the Rapper can’t fail at this point. The movement that he’s created, the impact that he’s made and the influence that he’s had will spur him on for as long as he chooses to. The video of him freaking out when Kanye mentioned him at Ottawa Blue Fest feels like a lifetime ago, but that was only a year ago.

He’s the biggest thing in the world, and as incomprehensible as it is, this is just the only beginning.

Right now, we’re in trying times. Some people believe that we’re at a moment of tension that hasn’t been seen before, that we’re at a crossroads we might not come back from. But I haven’t lost hope. I still believe that somehow, Chance the Rapper will save the world.

And Sunday night was the prime example of why.