Last night I touched The Genius, and my life will never be the same.

For those of you unlucky few who don’t understand what I just said, allow me to elucidate. The Genius – a/k/a GZA, a/k/a Allah Justice, a/k/a The Master, a/k/a The Head, a/k/a Maximillion – is a member of the Wu-Tang Clan. He’s one of the most talented MCs in the bunch, and he put out this one record this one time that is kind of a big deal. It’s called “Liquid Swords,” and it just so happens to be one of the Top 10 greatest hip-hop records of all time. I’m not here to debate which other albums belong on that list, but I do know that “Liquid Swords” is in there, no question.

Let me put it this way. When I told the extremely sexy woman named Rochelle — who bummed a cigarette from my buddy while we were outside on the patio at Canes waiting for the opening acts to start — that I was only here because I heard GZA was going to be playing “Liquid Swords” in its entirety, she warmed to me immediately. She introduced me to her friends Jon and Manny. And when I told Manny that I’d loved “Liquid Swords” since like the eighth grade, he bought my table a round of drinks because I was down. The people at this show were fans to the core. I knew it was going to be an awesome night.

Hip-hop has been called a divisive force among the African American community, as well as within this country’s entire population at large. I can’t speak on that topic with any amount of knowledge gleaned from experience, so I won’t even begin to try. But I will tell you this: I’m a white kid from rural America who just so happens to have a soft spot in his heart for the incredible wordsmithery of some of the best MCs that hip-hop has to offer. And as the WASPiest looking motherfucker in the venue (I rocked a red Lacoste polo with Fred Perry sneaks), all I had to do was tell people I could recite from memory every word to the intro of “Liquid Swords,” and people knew I was legit. They knew because they were right there with me. It was just that kind of vibe. You knew it was going to be an incredible show.

As much as I hate to be that guy, I don’t even remember the names of the opening acts. I wish I did. I wish I could tell you about some awesome hip-hop groups you’ve never heard of so you could go out and download their records for free even though they sincerely need the money just so you can feel cooler than your friends. The fact is, the first opener was so forgettable that they were only given 20 minutes of stage time. The second act was passable but still got booed.

Take a second to digest that tidbit. In sunny San Diego – one of the chillest, most relaxed cities on planet earth – the second opening act was booed. And they weren’t even all that bad. In fact, they were actually a decent MC/DJ duo out of Seattle. They were really interesting and original enough. But still, the boos rained down. These hip-hop aficionados had congregated at this sold-the-fuck-out show for one reason and one reason only: To hear The Master perform his classic LP.

I want to make sure I give everyone who isn’t in the know on this the proper context. Seeing GZA perform “Liquid Swords” is the hip-hop equivalent of seeing Bob Dylan perform “Blood on the Tracks” live song-by-song. If Jesus weren’t imaginary, and he came back to earth tomorrow, and it’s the rapture and all that shit, he would perform “Liquid Swords” to mark his return. Because trust me, Jesus is a black dude. Do the Christians have a better explanation for Jazz? Didn’t think so.

But back to the boos. They started half an hour or so before GZA hit the stage, and they were malicious as hell. I have never in my entire life heard an audience boo anything but terrible sound, as in excessive feedback from the speakers or a total inability to hear an integral part of a performance. Bad sound is booable, but nobody actually boos a band anymore, right? Maybe if one particular act is just atrocious, then perhaps they will incur the cartoonishly judgmental wrath of the crowd. However, that amount of sucktitude and fuckery is extremely difficult to achieve.

No, this was different. This wasn’t just unrest. This was much worse. This seething rage was a collective emotion that threatened to explode into a mob scene with every passing moment Allah Justice remained out of sight. Between acts some alleged fans (re: posers) even left the venue due to the rumor GZA had not even bothered to show up to his own gig. Murmurs ran through the crowd that Maximillion was not going to be performing at all. An uprising was brewing, with many plotting their best course of action in demanding their refunds.

Then the lights went down. The cheers were so thunderous; you could not hear the first few words of what came next. Then everyone realized what was happening, and they immediately quieted with churchlike reverence.

I began to recite – as I have so many times in private, in my car or the confines of my room – the child’s chilling words from the beginning of the record.

“When I was little, my father was famous. He was the greatest samurai in the empire. And he was the Shogun’s decapitator. He cut off the heads of 131 lords. It was a bad time for the empire.”

I know these words. They are ingrained in me. Since the first time I heard “Liquid Swords,” I have been memorizing these words. I love them. They are the awesome introduction to one of the top 10 hip-hop records of all time, to one of my very favorite records in the universe.

During my recitation there was a moment when I looked around and realized something. I became aware that I was not reciting all alone this time.

I went on, in unison with the Canes packed house in San Diego.

“The Shogun just stayed inside his castle, and he never came out. People said his brain was infected by devils. My father would come home. He would forget about the killings. He wasn’t scared of the Shogun, but the Shogun was scared of him. Maybe that was the problem. Then one night, the Shogun sent his ninja spies to our house. They were supposed to kill my father, but they didn’t. That was the night everything changed…”

The beat dropped, The Genius hit the stage and I let out an involuntarily euphoric roar inside the unison of crowd noise. I began to rap along with every word. I know I smiled ear to ear and did not leave the dance floor for a single second, not even to use the bathroom or get another drink to keep my fade on.

I wish I could extrapolate further on this awesome show, but after that initial deluge of euphoria, my memory becomes quite nebulous. I do know that some of the lesser Wu members were on stage, but if you haven’t put out a decent Wu solo record, then I’m sorry, but I just can’t recognize you by sight.

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that it sucks that I blacked out during one of the best concerts of my life. But it’s not like that at all. It’s not as if I got so wasted I can’t remember. It’s really totally different from that. For perhaps the first time in my life, I was so overjoyed that the excess of the emotion flooded my recollection to slush.

The friend I took to the concert has been telling stories all morning of me rapping all the words to every song yet still remembering to skip the N-bombs so as not to get my ass kicked. He claims I danced like a fool, and I believe him. He tells stories of me disappearing into an abyss of strangers who took me in because they could not believe that the squarest-looking dude in the room was actually the guy who was having the absolute best time in the world.

He tells these stories, and I cannot help but beam, because somewhere in my head I definitely do recall hearing the first lines of Duel of the Iron Mic. I remember hearing the lyrics “I judge wisely, as if nothin’ ever surprise me. I’m lively, loungin’ between two pillars of ivory,” when 4th Chamber was performed near the halfway point of the set.

And though my brain may have been a bit miasmatic with a mix of alcohol and pure bliss, I was still coherent enough to be slightly peeved when it wasn’t Ghostface himself who asked “Why is the sky blue? Why is water wet? Why did Judas rat the Romans while Jesus slept?”

And I can more certainly assure you that by the end of the night it was clear that GZA did indeed leave the crowd split just like it says on the cut.

It is a concert I can only half remember that I know I will never forget.