.” Mary J. Blige will sing the “ooh yeahs” and the hook, accompanied by a Los Angeles children’s choir on the field. And then he’ll emerge at center stage: The hologram, performing in Tupac’s voice, backed up by everyone else onstage, rapping a cleaned-up verse. Blige and the choir will sing the chorus again. Then the hologram will do the spoken word part where Pac goes, “Let’s change the way we eat, let’s change the way we live, and let’s change the way we treat each other.
You may feel that the mere possibility of using the hologram is too rare and too alluring to resist. I know it is tempting. I understand that the unparalleled stage and element of surprise you think it has, and the anniversary of the hologram’s debut, setting, and impact of the moment all create overwhelming intersecting incentives to do it. There is obviously no greater L.A. hip-hop legend than Tupac. We all agree.
But reviving holographic Tupac for such a spectacle—dopefied as this spectacle may otherwise be—will turn a concert that is already amazingly fun and grandiose and historic into something grotesque. Sure, yes: Do a Tupac tribute—please! But do not use the hologram. Have Kendrick, Snoop, and Eminem rap Tupac’s parts in “Changes” and “California Love” instead.
Tupac’s hologram 😂🤣😂🤣😂🤣