Houston’s iconic Tobe Nwigwe brought his recently closed out tour, dubbed “Home Is Where
The Hood Is,” to Atlanta on Mar. 30. I’d halfway joked before the show about him “taking me to church” due to his performing at The Tabernacle and his being a man of outspoken faith. I was decently familiar with Nwigwe before this show but, honestly, had no idea how taken to church I’d wind up being. Nwigwe, of Nigerian descent but raised Catholic in Texas, is more broadly non-denominational these days, but fiercely committed to his relationship with God, his family and his community. And in that order, too. Those are the life-areas from which he receives his strength as well in a career the New York Times characterized in 2020 as being one that sought “consistency, not virality.” His career has been built one song, one video at a time since 2016.
The man is nothing if not consistent. From the sea-foam green that drapes over his entire crew and drips from every pixel of every video to his family being by his side as partners in nearly every aspect of every production, with Nwigwe what you see is what you get. So much so that this tour, ostensibly in support of his 2024 album Hood Hymns (which The Black Catholic Messenger called “…a grown-folks Christian hip-hop album to remember”), was intentionally cut down to four U.S. dates because his goal of showing his children the world by taking them on tour wasn’t working out. He spoke of long international flights, rushing from show to show, and basically having a packed agenda was really only showing his kids the inside of airplanes, venues and hotels. He did mention, however, that he was sure to have left Atlanta on the list.
Opener gospel singer David Michael Wyatt, also from Houston and long a part of the Nwigwe inner circle, performed a short set of smooth R&B including his charmingly bare take on Outkast’s “Hey Ya.”
Anticipation built from the time Tobe’s stage-sized screen turned mint green with a still shot of the clean-and-green two-story apartment building that often appears in his videos. The films shown behind him and his band and dancers while he performed was synced with his set list, but nothing ever really felt timed or planned. For as tight as his whole performance was, it still had a very casual feel about it. Almost like we were all just hanging out with Tobe. For as serious as most of his music is, and for as serious as his audience takes it, Nwigwe still goofs off and makes jokes and has fun. His declaration (followed by appropriate dance moves) that he was “nothing without MC Hammer” was taken in good stride and spirit.
I’ve never been able to capture with any fully usable accuracy set lists at hip-hop shows. So, let me tell you what I do recall. His signature growl on “Fye Fye” when he declares, “I’m extra unique!” was chill inducing. Not for nothing, in this same song he sings, “If you book me for a show/And I can’t bring my wife and my babies/ I’m leaving.” The whole show was a family affair with his wife (and partner in everything), Martica Ivory—affectionately known as “Fat”—taking the lead more than once, and every one of his kids getting some spotlight time on stage. And he’s completely believable when defends them lyrically in his go-to track “Try Jesus” (“Try Jesus/not me/’cause I throw hands”).
I didn’t take an audience poll, but its pulse was palpable. The assembled crowd, the majority of which skewed well above 30, seemed both invigorated and well edified. One of the most powerful performers in the U.S. today has taken his music around the globe and not compromised. He did it step by step, working with his family and trusted peers. He’s committed to bringing up those that have been with him on his rise. At one point he said, while gesturing at his wife and children, “Everything I’m willing to die for is right here on this stage.”
There’s really no questioning we’re in one of the absolutely weirdest stages of U.S. history. But considering how much breath has been spent talking about “family values” over the past three decades or so, it was refreshing to witness a man who embodies basically every single one of these values without apology nor political affiliation. The man literally canceled the overwhelming majority of his domestic tour because his family was tired. To quote the fictional David Wallace from “The Office,” “I know men that wouldn’t change their golf schedule to shore up their marriage.”
He’s not the only one, sure, but right now at this moment in time Tobe Nwigwe is the most poignant, visible wordsmith and performer speaking to these things without a flag or marching band behind him. He’s every bit the real deal, a good man, and a captivating and engaging stage presence that, especially considering his truncated live schedule, everyone there was fortunate to have witnessed.
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