Monday, May 19, 2003 | 8:25 a.m.
Midway through his Saturday night performance at the House of Blues at Mandalay Bay, rapper 50 Cent singled out a fan near the front of the stage.
"Look at my man here ... he looks like he must be a Ja-Rule fan," hip-hop's latest phenomenon announced.
On cue, 50's posse of around 20 men -- all of whom stayed onstage throughout the show -- immediately shaped their hands into fake pistols, pointed them at the audience member and Blam!, pretended to shoot him as a gunshot rang from the speakers.
The episode, which reminded of 50 Cent's ongoing feud with rival Ja-Rule and record label Murder Inc., drew hearty applause from the sold-out crowd of 1,800.
The audience turned out to hear 50's infectious rhymes, sure. But even more, people showed up to see evidence of the 26-year-old rapper's violent past.
They wanted to be in the same room with the guy who was shot nine times in a single murder attempt and survived to rap about it on his debut album, "Get Rich or Die Tryin'."
In that respect, the evening didn't disappoint. From the stand-up metal detectors on the way in -- smartly hidden from Mandalay Bay's gambling public by curtains -- to the bulletproof vests worn by 50 and his crew, a hint of potential danger hung over the proceedings.
When 50 arrived onstage, an hour after a short opening set by rapper Skillz, he did so amid the sound of recorded gunfire. Fortunately, that's as close to the real thing as the concert would come, as the night passed without incident.
The headliner, born Curtis Jackson, quickly stripped off a Warrick Dunn Atlanta Falcons jersey to reveal his Kevlar vest, then soon took that and his white "wife-beater" undershirt off as well, baring his chiseled chest and arms, as well as his many tattoos and a giant, diamond-studded cross hanging from his neck.
He swapped headgear throughout the show, going from retro-style Cincinnati Reds and New York Yankees caps to a plain white do-rag to an old-school Chicago gangster style brimmed hat (think Frank Nitti in "The Untouchables").
Though 50 constantly reminded fans of his hardcore lifestyle, he also showed off a lighter side of his personality. He smiled at times -- a broad, toothy grin that appeared genuine -- and playfully engaged the crowd with humor on several occasions.
While the rapper's persona captivated the crowd, however, the same could not quite be said for his performance. From the set's short 43-minute duration to its use of only the sparest backing instrumentation, 50 Cent's music failed to live up to its hype.
Rappers Lloyd Banks and Young Buck -- members of 50 Cent's G-Unit collective -- added their own vocal stylings to the mix, but often made it difficult to home in on 50's own lyrics.
And even though most of the gentlemen onstage did little except gesture with their hands, wave towels and toss posters into the crowd, their presence distracted from the music.
Early, the familiar, shimmering intro to "Wanksta" brought cheers from the masses, but it was quickly overshadowed by a superior, hard-edged rendition of "Back Down."
By the time 50 began his third song, "High All the Time," it was evident the material had been stripped of much of the catchy production that makes "Get Rich" more than simply another forgettable gangsta rap CD.
DJ Whoo Kid was probably just following instructions, but his sparse approach to the turntable stood in sharp contrast to the dynamic method employed by MixMaster Mike during the Beastie Boys' recent House of Blues stopover.
The simpler technique worked well enough for 50's slower compositions, songs such as "Many Men (Wish Death)" and "21 Questions," which lean more toward R&B than full-on hip-hop.
But other numbers, such as the danceable "If I Can't" and the creepy "Patiently Waiting" could have benefited from some additional bells and whistles, particularly since Eminem wasn't present to supplement the latter track with his own rhymes, as he does on the album.
The night's most anticipated cut, megahit "In Da Club," had fans singing and waving their arms from side to side, but only after 50 faked them out with a scripted false start.
The rapper began the song's familiar intro: "Go Shorty, it's your birthday. We're gonna party like it's your birthday. Gonna sip Bacardi like it's your birthday." The music then stopped suddenly.
"It's not your birthday yet mother------s," 50 teased.
The crowd eventually got a full version of the song and ate it up, most shouting along to every word.
Opening act Skillz was also in a playful mood, borrowing a page from 50 Cent's days on New York's underground rap scene, when 50 made his name by taking on the genre's biggest names.
Skillz went a step further, dissing virtually every celebrity who made news last year in a song recapping some of 2002's lowlights.
Christina Aguilera, Jennifer Lopez and Ben Affleck, Michael Jackson and Mike Tyson were all fair game, as was singer R. Kelly, who Skillz said "sold more sex videos than he did albums."
Considering 50 Cent's chart dominance thus far in 2003, you can be sure he won't fall victim to Skillz' harsh tongue anytime soon. As 50 pointed out before exiting the stage, he has rapidly taken the hip-hop world by storm.
"Before I get outta here, I need everybody in the building to put up a 'V'," 50 said, putting two fingers up in what looked like a peace sign.
"You know what that is? That ain't no East-Coast/West-Coast (expletive). That's a V for victory."
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