Twas the night before the night before Christmas, and it was freezing in The City. Twenty-three degrees to be exact. Cold enough to question ever leaving the apartment. But judging by the nearing capacity crowd packed inside and the sixty-plus people deep Will Call line dangling down the block of Manhattan’s Highline Ballroom, cold don’t mean nothing. Blacksmith Records is rocking. Twelve years following his professional debut, and heads still run deep for Talib Kweli.
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