Apparently, Dave Chappelle is obsessed with the same musicians as I was in high school. Black Star and the Roots and Common and Dead Prez are captivating artists, for sure. But in some ways, I grew out of them. The world of hip-hop extends further than Okayplayer, Rawkus, and creaky neo-soul, despite the inviting bubble they create. The man often anointed World's Funniest Dude evidently doesn't see things this way: When Chappelle threw his dream concert one Brooklyn afternoon in 2004, he chose these artists, as well as Kanye West. Two years on, Chappelle released the results as a concert film-- his own personal Wattstax.

This soundtrack compiles some of the live music found therein. Label politics kept the most thrilling stuff on the shelf, which means the film's gooey yet uplifting feeling is emulated here to much weaker effect. On screen, director Michel Gondry's jumbled narrative expertly raises dramatic tension with certain performances, then rips back to Chappelle, who we see joyously organizing his show and riffing on everything in sight. Similarly, each track on this album is broken up by bits from an epic conference call between all of the artists that performed, recorded at some point before the show. Initially, it seems like a wonderful, revealing idea: These guys are all good friends and have no problem clowning each other (especially Mos Def). But 10 or 20 listens later, I'm no longer amused by stic.man referring to himself as "stickie-ickie-ickie," or Jill Scott bitching to ?uestlove, the show's musical director, about refusing to play anything off her first album.

?uesto (aka Ahmir Thompson) has long overseen the entire Okayplayer/Rawkus axis, holding himself responsible for getting folks together to record, and often exec producing albums. It's admirable work he does, shepherding so many big personalities. Unfortunately, his mix on this extraordinarily rare live hip-hop album is average at best. Sometimes the vocals are pushed way up, sometimes down. There are going to be glitches at any show, but all the feedback on a slow burner like "Umi Says" is downright distracting, especially when Mos Def is singing that beautifully. Alternately, the ever-magnetic Erykah Badu's "Back in the Day" is so scat-filled and loose it needs a hair net. Talib Kweli, bothered by a sore throat, actually sounds kinda hard on "Definition" and "The Blast". I guess all this time it wasn't the overstuffed verses and tangled syntax weighing him down; he just needed to sound more like Juvenile. Elsewhere, Dead Prez give up a chunky, rock-ish version of their stand-by "Hip-Hop", in which stic.man's a cappella verse exists in an odd zone between histrionic bullshit and outstandingly inspired.

There are a few gripping musical moments in the film that fail to appear here-- particularly a Dayton-based college marching band's snappy rendition of West's "Jesus Walks", as well as a pretty dope version (!) of Wyclef Jean's "If I Was President" recorded in some shack in front of said marching band. The biggest omission, however, is the awe-inspiring version of "Killing Me Softly" that the still-luminous Lauryn Hill churns out near the film's end. I don't know that there's anything that can be said about Lauryn that hasn't been already, and personally, I thought I never wanted to hear that Fugees song again. Turns out I was wrong; it's soul-shaking, glassy-eyed stuff and it's not here. Chappelle's incredible, faux-James Brown gags are sadly absent, too: They'd have made far stronger interludes.

There was a crystallized period where love, swagger, and uncompromising musicianship were de rigueur for outer-circle hip-hop. These days, Mos is a film star, Dead Prez are more riling than righteous, and Badu's been missing in action since 2003's Worldwide Underground. Common and the Roots have aged better, but while their music remains ever thoughtful, their messages lean too flowery. Still, it's nice that every once in a while, dudes like Chappelle will wrangle them up and say, "What about this shit, America?!" Just next time make sure you get the Fugees cleared.

-Sean Fennessey, March 13, 2006