Live Review: Atmosphere, Brother Ali

Brother Ali's opening set was sparse production-wise but inconceivably rich in all other ways. On stage he has the conviction and precision of a preacher. His message is universal tolerance and compassion.

On Babygirl, "We don't see victims, we see survivors, our sisters are survivors"; on Uncle Sam God Damn, "Land of the thief, home of the slave"; on Mourning In America, "Terrorism is the war of the poor". His 45-minute set of nearly unbroken flow was cathartic (his banter even carried rhythm). It felt like a sermon to the faithful.

Brother Ali's set was the perfect mirror to Atmosphere's own and Slug on the mic is a whole other kind of revelation. Where Brother Ali speaks truths, MC Slug creates another reality. Slug's persona took on the role of Batman's Joker. His cartoonish smiles led his audience into the unfamiliar existence he built up around them. It's telling that he took the stage in a sweatshirt emblazoned with MF Doom's infamous face mask. Like Doom, Slug is all character and tenor, mood and theatre. It is equally telling that midway through the set — and after a killer rendition of God Loves Ugly — Slug removed this jumper to proudly reveal a Brother Ali T-shirt just as Ali joined him on stage. The pair struck a counter-balance and traded verses. The effect was powerful, uplifting and mesmerising.

Atmosphere and the entire Rhymesayers collective pride themselves on producing "independent hip hop", read: anti-consumerist. The show delivered; aggression was converted to outrage and localised idolisation was converted to universal empathy.