A Sudanese-American rapper born in France, Bas or Abbas Hamad born May 27, 1987, is a star in the rap world. With mentorship from world renowned rapper, J. Cole, and fellowship with Dreamville Records, Bas has had a great path set for him. I had the pleasure of seeing him perform in San Francisco on March 13, 2024.
Bas’ musical career began in 2011 and grew in 2013 after signing with Dreamville Records, owned by J.Cole. Bas has since then released countless records that reached charts, like “Tribe,” Last Winter (2014), Too High To Riot (2016), and Milky Way (2018), along with many Dreamville releases. Dreamville Records signed many other talented artists along with Bas, such as Ari Lennox, Cozz, EarthGang, JID, Lute, and Omen. Not only does Dreamville release iconic music, they have been holding the Dreamville Festival since 2018. To see a festival held by a record label feels fascinating, like something that you don’t come across often. While organizing for the festival in 2018, Bas’ older brother, Ibrahim Hamad, explained Dreamville Record’s significance in Shawn Sentaro’s article, “We’re not like other companies that are based in a city. Our label is very much an idea, more so than an actual physical place. So you can create it and take it everywhere.”
When I think of record labels or groups, I often think of a certain “image” or “style” that the group tends to follow. It’s refreshing to see how Dreamville Records incorporated that message into their festival and as a record label in general. Hamad adds on, “To bring that into the festival—where you can just create a place and make it Dreamville and be able to bring people there—was always this cool goal. And that’s what makes it unique. It’s not based in an actual city. It’s just based in our minds.” To bring something to life is the unique ability an artist has, and I believe Bas embodies the mission statement of what Dreamville is trying to do.
Building off of Dreamville’s concept of being an abstract idea and medium for artists to express themselves, I wondered how Bas balances his identity with Dreamville in comparison to his individual music. Before the show, I dug deeper and explored how the music industry can pressure artists to find the way of presenting themselves that “works.” In an interview conducted by Adam Grandmaison, known as Adam22, the two talk about how streams and statistics may affect someone’s artistic ability to fully express themselves. Bas explains to Adam how, “the art isn’t just you expressing yourself freely, I hate to sound… but the art is presenting that in a way that’s palatable to people… to get that success in a way where you don’t feel like you’re compromising yourself or your artistic integrity.” As an artist myself, I really recognize the struggle of trying to encapsulate your art in a way that is digestible for people. Although it is innate for people to create, artists constantly have to balance their own creativity while taking into account how people will receive their art. That is ultimately the unfair dilemma that all artists have to face if they want to sustain their craft, but I find that Bas still has an authentic voice despite this constant demand and emphasis that the music industry puts on having high charting releases. None of his songs feel like a money grab, nor do they feel forced. With this in mind, let’s explore his live performance in San Francisco at The Fillmore.
Bas began exploring more musical and melodic styles of rapping in his last album, Milky Way, which debuted in 2018. During his performance, I could really see his melodic style flourish in his newest album, We Only Talk About Real Shit When We’re Fucked Up (2023). He began his performance with the first song of his newest album, called “Light Of My Soul.” It’s one of my favorite songs from that album. This song samples an emotional harmony of voices, singing in a minor key, “We’ve got a way out, way of love / No one can change it / And time won’t re-arrange it.” This melancholy melody combined with Bas rapping about how he takes on others problems and spreads himself too thin was an incredibly powerful way to start the concert.
Although this was my first concert I attended solo, I couldn’t help but groove and dance to his songs. While Bas performed his song, “Choppas,” the repeated chopped vocals in the beginning set an instinctual groove to bop your head side to side. In contrast to the groovier song, when Bas performed “Risk,” the crowd calmed down to flow with the smooth guitar instrumental. It was such a nice transition and allowed the crowd to relax in the midst of his more beat-heavy songs. This song also highlighted Bas’ guitarist: they were elegantly strumming and shined during the chill solo in the middle of the song. The crowd roared despite this song being so tranquil.
One of my favorite moments of this performance was when Bas brought awareness to what was happening back in his parent’s home country, Sudan. Bas’ parents emigrated from Sudan, a country located in northeast Africa which has been facing a civil war since April of 2023. The lights in the venue suddenly changed from the usual dark blue to a bright white. He performs “Khartoum” with the flag of Sudan wrapped around the microphone, paying homage to Sudan’s capital. It was a compassionate song, igniting mournful faces in the crowd. It was a space for us to listen, to remember, and to fight for justice. His lyrics touched me, with him rapping, “Bombs on Ramadan, I swear my mama cryin’ still / … Why nobody care? Why they don’t put us on the media? / … I think the world should be ashamed, I hope the world will make a change.” This song is extremely touching and moving, with Bas painting images of his own family members becoming refugees and the lack of coverage on the inhumane war. He ends the song with a voice recording of what seems to be a news anchor covering the war, explaining, “Thousands killed, over five million displaced and many more trapped in Khartoum and cities across Sudan with little access to basic necessities. This war is a battle for power. The country’s army said it would only last a few days, but it’s now been raging for months.”
Despite the somber song, his experience of being in the music industry for over a decade allowed him to work the crowd and transition to his other songs without skipping a beat. The mood lifted quickly with him playing more of my favorites, “Passport Bros” and “l e t . g o . m y . h a n d.” Even after the concert, his album has been on repeat for me and hasn’t gotten old at all. I fully believe that Bas will be given the praise and spotlight he deserves. But maybe the world isn’t ready for him yet because, We Only Talk About Real Shit When We’re Fucked Up.
Article and Photos by Catherine Li