“This has been a performance piece about how technology is going to be the death of us all,” jokes rapper, poet, author and playwright Kae Tempest as a keyboard player and a technician wrestle with malfunctioning equipment. We’re just two tracks in; Tempest assures us that if the electronics are not back up soon, they’ll do the whole show a cappella.
They could, too. The teenage Tempest cut their teeth battle-rapping in south London, turning to slam poetry when more direct avenues into hip-hop refused to open easily to a young, blond slip of a thing. You suspect they have never wasted the opportunity when handed a mic. Given Tempest’s extended output over more than a decade of albums, works of fiction, poems, plays and nonfiction, with prizes and accolades for many of them – you can’t imagine them ever being at a loss for words either.
