Che Fu & the Krates at the St James

By RUSSELL BAILLIE

Hip-hop keeps late hours. And as they tick by on this Friday night, in what feels like office-party season down on Queen St, you have to wonder if that is a reason why there seems a curiously low turnout for Che Fu as he nears the end of the tour for his The Navigator album.

The Auckland hip-hop/soul star and band don't take the stage until way past 11 pm, after a support set from Ill Semantics, displaying a ear-catching mix of verbal aggression and craft.

That tardiness is perhaps understandable for someone whose background includes many a reggae long-nighter.

And it's comparatively early for a venue where the usual Friday night dance events are wee small hours affairs.

But for someone who - by virtue of those hits he keeps having - is a pop star too, having a show that finishes long after the last bus just isn't fan-friendly.

Oh, well. Let the old-man-who's-had-a-long-day-at-work complaints end here. Because if Fu is late, he's also great.

Actually, leading a 10-strong stage squad, he proves quite the best live local hip-hop hybrid act we've seen.

It's definitely a show, as opposed to a gig. The band - musicians arranged on risers at back, Fu and supporting MCs down front - start out in khaki uniforms, echoing the Maori Battalion look of his Fade Away video.

Early on, Fu disappears from the stage only to turn up at the mixing desk for a spot of turntable scratching. Along the way there are tangents into songs by Herbs, James Brown and Missy Elliott/Timbaland.

Not that he's padding - he's got plenty of songs from his two studio albums, which live and loud sound several metres deeper than their recorded versions.

Add that cracking playing, some rich harmonies (especially on Roots Man and Fade Away) and hearty tag-team rapping and you've already got something vital.

But then comes the voice of the main man. And on songs like Random, one of the night's highlights, his weighty lyrics take flight on the wings of his phrasing genius.

It's soul, substance and style - and very much about life right here, right now.

Afterwards, on a Queen St cab rank, we see a carload of young Maori men being turned over by the ever-vigilant local constabulary. One has made the mistake of having a joint in his pocket and is marched to the paddy wagon.

Rewind to an hour earlier and the defiant chorus of Mish (2): "Supplied by the Earth/ denied by the law/ I can think of more criminals they should be looking for".