LaRussell: Live from his Vallejo backyard

VALLEJO – Walking into the Pergola is like casually stumbling upon a utopian colony. Located a stone’s throw away from Setterquist Park in North Vallejo, the Pergola is an all-age festival wrapped into the yard of a one-story, mid-sized bungalow. 

LaRussell, Vallejo’s latest homegrown hip-hop sensation, has been performing in his childhood backyard for over two years. It’s now dubbed the Pergola, and includes a stage designed with the help of Vallejo artist Christian Alberto. During a recent show in April, there were caterers cooking up cajun chicken pasta, a mini merch tent selling crewnecks, hoodies, T-shirts, CDs and LaRussell’s book, and even an inflatable bouncy castle for the little ones.

Before I stepped into the side yard, a LaRussell song lyric wormed its way into my ear: “Merch priceless, verse priceless, shows priceless, flows nicest.” I had been working all week on a write-up about his song, “CRÈME BRÛLÉE” with Oakland-heavyweight ALLBLACK, but stepping into the Pergola was like putting on a Good Compenny (LaRussell’s independent production company) T-shirt and joining in the family reunion’s festivities.

As you pass through the side yard, you’re met with a row full of coolers filled to the brim with ice and free water bottles to cure to the deceptive 67-degree heat. Laminated paper signs dispersed throughout the backyard remind everyone to “Stay Hydrated.” Luckily, the sun isn’t too bright under the giant yellow canopy and the complementary line of yellow umbrellas shading the bleachers that line LaRussell’s cedar fence. With turf duct-taped to the ground and the mid-afternoon sun ripe, it was as if you stepped into a DIY version of the Gobi Tent at Coachella.

Upon first glimpse of the wooden bleachers, you could immediately feel the unanimous sense of pride in being there. Everyone is wearing some kind of LaRussell merch – bootleg white T-shirts of the rapper in a cowboy hat with the words “Hometown Hero” airbrushed above in graffiti, crewnecks with the Good Compenny logo, unavailable hats and shirts from previous shows, and designated “Pergola Crew” hoodies for videographers and photographers. And if it wasn't LaRussell gear, it was Vallejo tees, ‘Black Excellence’ shirts, and smiling faces patiently awaiting the performance.

After roughly 20 minutes of light DJing from Swaggy B, the stage was put together with a live outfit of Jimmy Toor on the flute, Made By Harry on the six-string bass, Shante on the vocals, Hokage Simon and ClayDough on the keys, and Mike G mixing. Viral violinist Michael Prince kicked off the afternoon with an acoustic ballad, turning the concert into a garden party before blending his strings with a turf-shaking bassline, cut and traced by the constant tap of hi-hats. 

The orchestral recital not only serenaded the audience, but it coaxed LaRussell out of his home. Swapping Hit-Boy’s synthesizers for the disharmonious quivering of a fiddle, LaRussell appeared from thin air standing against the beige stucco side of his house.

Facing the crowd while standing on the makeshift risers, LaRussell introduced himself as a force to be reckoned with, initiating his performance with the growl of a larger than life figure on the prowl for success: “I feel like King Kong, got me beating on my chest/Left me for dead, I hopped up and pulled the bullets out my vest.”

LaRussell has an unmistakable charisma. It’s more than a stage-presence. If this was the ‘50s, LaRussell would be standing on a soapbox preaching wisdom into the community. For over half of his hour-and-a-half performance, LaRussell rapped at eye-level with his fans. They instinctively formed a circle around him, as he got low on the dance floor alongside familiar faces and got leverage on a bench when it was time to pull another song from his deep discography. 

Throughout the show, there was a feeling of unfiltered astonishment as to how LaRussell was able to release 32 albums in six years. But then you hear LaRussell stand only a head above his fans asking, “Who here wanna get paid,” and the crowd roars back at him, “Dropped 4 albums in 98 days!” Combining the smirk of Mac Dre with the discipline of New Orleans’ Curren$y and his continuous stream of music, LaRussell will stop at nothing to maintain his hot streak. Together, we’re in the presence of someone who believes that if he takes 10,000 shots then he’ll be an all-star shooter. 

LaRussell realizes the blueprint of Nipsey Hussle’s guide to entrepreneurship and community-building, applying it to Vallejo as he pops his shirt and does the thizzle dance. Late in the show, LaRussell calls it “hustle music” and “grind music,” giving his fans gospel, preaching again and again that you can do it. Everyone can be a part of his journey, and he wants to be a part of yours.

No one wants to see LaRussell lose. Thirty minutes into his set, he invited anyone from the crowd who knows all the lyrics to one of his songs to perform alongside him. A young girl in a salmon Good Compenny crewneck, not more than 10 years old, hopped up on stage, took the mic and rapped every word to “Hyphy 2020.”

Moments like these are where LaRussell goes above and beyond – not even two days later, he released the audio on streaming platforms as “HYPHY 2020 (Avery Version) [Live],” crediting her on the song and offering her whatever profits it may reap. He lives off of the success of others, and his feel-good energy is infectious.

Anyone can be a LaRussell fan – there’s no age when you start or stop feeling inspired. Rainbow, a young girl not too much older than Avery, came on stage to rap “Baggage Claim,” and right after, a 45-year-old woman came on and rapped, “N***a.” Later in the show, she told the crowd that this is like church for her; once, while she was rapping in the back of the Pergola, she said she even saw an apparition of her recently deceased father.

Cultivated with the whistle of a flute and the sleek harmonies of a bass and bright keys, the Pergola is a nondenominational place of worship – not necessarily of God, but of the strength of community that has been absent from Vallejo’s music scene for too long.

Towards the end of the show, wearing a varsity jacket and backed with a drumless live band, Vallejo’s Nef the Pharaoh joined the festivities to perform acoustic versions of his songs, “Bling Blaow” and “Big Tymin’.” The renditions were warm and hopeful, tinged with the aftereffects of watching a LaRussell performance.

It doesn’t matter if you’re P-Lo or Sada Baby or a fan like me, you’re invited to the Pergola, and if you feel so inclined, you can share what the experience was like. He even offers a roundtable at the end, in which fans can take the microphone and discuss what their experience was like underneath the Pergola. One person flew west from Chicago, another brought her entire family up from Los Angeles that morning, and others were mesmerized at this first sighting of their soon-to-be favorite artist. 

The Pergola is invariably the definition of community. A safe space for young and old alike to come together on a Sunday afternoon and listen to words of unfettered perseverance. When you leave the Pergola, you’re not the same person that you came in. Allergies will have you sniffling, the dancing will have you sweating, and the impact of LaRussell’s words will have you grinding.