On this day. 16 July 2008, American rap legend Jay-Z played Cardiff’s Motorpoint Arena. Support was provided by Mark Ronson.
Widely regarded as one of the greatest rappers of all time, he has been central to the creative and commercial success of artists including Kanye West, Rihanna, and J. Cole. He is the founder and chairman of entertainment company Roc Nation, and was the president and chief executive officer of Def Jam Recordings from 2004 to 2007.
Review - Independent - Simon Price
How much significance can you read into a pair of glasses? A couple of weeks ago, Jay-Z turned up on the Jonathan Ross show studiously bespectacled, with the dress sense and demeanour of an amiable college-boy slacker rather than Roc-A-Fella CEO, rap megastar and bling-bling billionaire.
It was also one hell of a turnaround: the king of shopping- mall rap who has done more than anyone this side of P Diddy to cement the public view of hip-hop as a world of rapacious capitalism suddenly presenting himself as a cuddly intellectual, one of us.
He carried it off, just as – by common consent – he carried off his Glastonbury headlining set, which had the likes of Noel Gallagher in such an apoplectic tizzy beforehand.
The Jay-Z who shows up in Cardiff sure looks like the familiar bling-merchant: the hinges on his ever-present shades have more carats than Bugs Bunny, and the chain around his neck is more than merely goldie-lookin'.
Tellingly, Jay-Z had admitted to Ross that many rap acts make their initial breakthrough with one studio-forged track and, unlike rock bands, have no schooling in the art of the live show.
Indeed, last time I saw Jay-Z himself, he filled Wembley Arena with deadening thuds and bovine bellows. Not any more. He's learned a few lessons in the intervening years, and he's ready to deliver something that's only just short of a masterclass.
You have no idea how much it hurts me to say this. After all, I came to bury Jay-Z, not to praise him. This is a man whose main contribution to 21st-century culture has been to pop up on singles by Rihanna or Beyoncé, mumble lazily for 30 seconds or so and take a million-dollar cheque. (We get abridged bursts of "Umbrella" and "Crazy in Love" tonight.)
His excellent ensemble slide seamlessly between Latin hustle and funk-rock, incorporating teasing snatches of Amy's "Rehab", The Prodigy's "Smack My Bitch Up", Tribe Called Quest's "Bonita Applebum" and AC/DC's "Back in Black".
The high-speed interplay between the main man and his sidekick Memphis Bleek is often dazzling and, in the flesh, a track like "99 Problems" just cannot be argued with.
Just when you're wondering what the point of showing Damien Hirst's diamond-encrusted skull – one piece of bling the Jigga doesn't own – on the big screen might be, and cursing his audacity for name-dropping Public Enemy's Nation of Millions, he ties them both together in a passage about Hurricane Katrina.
A montage of American presidents freezes on the image of GW Bush, and Jay solicits boos, before rapping unaccompanied: "You're up on the roof/A helicopter swooped down with a telescopic lens/Just to get a scoop/But they didn't scoop you..." This time, the screen freezes on Barack Obama, and Jay-Z whips up the cheers.
