It's been 20 years since 50 Cent muscled his way into mainstream rap consciousness with Get Rich or Die Tryin', and 10 years since his most recent studio album. Outside of his business ventures or work in the booth, the New Yorker now stands more as an entertainer than recording artist: expanding his filmography year over year, feuding with contemporaries and whoever else wants some, poking and prodding as a perpetually online antagonist. But does 50 Cent need to deliver more material outside of the occasional guest feature? His headlining set Friday evening at Festival d'été de Quebec — his debut in the capital city of la belle province — proved this may not be the case.
Rap vets who have headlined FEQ in past years — Ice Cube in 2016, Ludacris in 2022, for instance — feel as if they've used their time on the Plains of Abraham to cement their legacies with crowds they're unfamiliar with, and 50 Cent was no exception. Emerging from an illuminated box amidst billowing fog machines, the rapper born Curtis Jackson delighted the packed out main stage as he tore through his greatest tracks flanked by fellow G-Unit soldiers Tony Yayo and Uncle Murda. Just about everything from 50's hit-making heyday that one would want to hear and holler along to was included: "What Up Gangsta," "I Get Money," "If I Can't" "P.I.M.P.," "Just a Lil Bit," "Candy Shop" and his turns on the Game's "Hate It or Love It" and "How We Do," and Lil Kim's "Magic Stick." A tribute to late collaborator Pop Smoke in "The Woo" and "Big Rich Town" from his TV drama Power were well received but drew a more muted reaction from his faithful.
More than simply fan service, the set was gangster rap as spectacle: a backing band was perched behind 50 and his co-conspirators on a set of risers designed to look like his South Jamaica, NY, neighbourhood — right down to the sign for real world bottle shop Tony's Liquors. Through each song, the skyline scene would change from day to night, at times taking the audience indoors with graphics of nightclub chandeliers and massive sound systems which aesthetically split the difference between the Art Deco designs of his home city and TRON.
There was a troupe of enthusiastic backup dancers — one of whom gave 50 a lap dance in a brief interlude — and a breaker who didn't shy away from busting a mean headspin to the crowd's delight. Save for the band, everyone on stage made wardrobe changes — a necessity after 50 launched his Yankees snapback and leather-accented track jacket into the adoring crowd. There were even jewellery changes, with 50 cycling between a handful of large chains and medallions twinkling under the stage lights. All of this was experienced before the dazzling array of pyrotechnics and confetti cannons were deployed.
For all the "entertainment," 50 remained a skilful performer, rapping without a backing track outside of occasional punch-ins in his choruses with a huskier, more guttural tone than the Curtis Jackson of old. Highlights included his delivery of the world-weary "Many Men (Wish Death)," and a celebratory rendition of "In da Club" for which he donned a red Quebec Remparts hockey jersey — number 50, name bar reading "Cent." While he shared few words with the crowd, he was beaming from ear to ear more often than not, later acknowledging that it was tough to say goodbye ahead of trekking to Ottawa where he'd perform on his 49th birthday. Whether through film and television, Instagram comments sections or his beloved catalogue of hits two decades on, the night made clear that 50 Cent will always have an audience.