While Murs seemed just happy to be there, dead prez spent much of its set talking shit about Barack Obama, effectively dismissing him as just another pandering politician. “Y’all might not hear me this year, but next year y’all be like, ‘Yeah, y’all DP niggas was on point,’” Stic.man promised before he and M-1 launched into “Hell Yeah.” The duo subsequently cheapened their ad-hoc political analysis by making fun of the staff security: “Yo, I see some fat white CIA agents out there.”

While dead prez drew mostly cordial applause - save for their classic “(It’s Bigger Than) Hip-Hop” - Immortal Technique elicited awestruck cheers. Like dead prez, Immortal Technique espouses dangerously radical ideas – the chorus of one of his best-known songs, “Bin Laden,” he raps, “Bin Laden didn’t blow up the projects / It was you, nigga / Tell the truth, nigga / Bush knocked down the towers.” But he had so much crazy, angry energy that you couldn’t help but be drawn in. Plus, his DJ, GI Joe, absolutely killed it as he beat-juggled Rob Base and DJ EZ-Rock’s “It Takes Two” into frenzied noise.

Bells on: B.O.B. and Big Rich at Rock the Bells.

Meanwhile, most of the side acts - from Baltimore’s DJ Blaqstarr to Atlanta’s B.O.B. - seemed to draw muted responses. People seemed to use the awkwardly named “Culture Club” stage as a way station to stretch their feet and hang out until the next main stage act appeared. Blaqstarr flipped hip-hop with house and techno like Crystal Waters' “100% Pure Love” and Richie Hawtin, but couldn’t get the crowd moving. However, the Pack drew a sizable audience.

(Curiously the Cool Kids - who have appeared on most of Rock the Bells’ itinerary - weren’t at the Mountain View date. I wanted to ask the Pack what they thought about the Cool Kids, whose sound is eerily similar to theirs, but I couldn’t catch up to them.)

Some of the side-stage artists seemed distinctly out of place. For example, B.O.B. makes Southern-style crunk, but imbues it with such creativity that he has been touted as a possible successor to Andre 3000, and someone who can draw in Jeezy-styled thugs and Dungeon Family heads alike. But for now, he’s simply a love-it-or-hate-it proposition, though some were impressed when he broke out an acoustic guitar and sang a winsome love song. However, the crowd didn’t really perk up until All City’s Big Rich, San Quinn, and Boo Banga gave a surprise rendition of their local anthem “San Francisco.” People were so gassed that they performed the song twice.

In years past, Rock the Bells has been dismissed as a nostalgia fest for aging B-boys. True, the hip-hop landscape as teenage wasteland has always been a myth: Lil Wayne is in his late 20s, Rick Ross and Kanye West are in their early 30s, and Jay-Z is nearing 40. However, it strikes at a quandary that festival promoter Guerilla Union, by booking such newfangled and still-developing acts such as collegiate hipsters Kidz in the Hall and the infernal Tyga, is now addressing for the first time in Rock the Bells four-year history: how to build a successful festival that reflects hip-hop’s future as well as its golden age past?

If the Mountain View date is any indication, the experiment drew mixed results. People wanted to hear the hits. Raekwon and Ghostface, De La Soul, Meth and Red, and the Pharcyde (with all four members performing together for the first time in more than a decade) gave it to them in spectacular fashion. (Only the legendary Rakim, always a dicey live performer at best, drew appreciative but spark-less cheers when he rapped his classics.) But when Mos Def veered from his solo and Black Star hits in favor of improvised freestyles over reggae flavors and Melle Mel’s “The Message,” the crowd’s interest seemed to wane. Hip-hop is such a crazily energetic art form that the alternative - studious if virtuosic musicianship - inevitably seems less exciting.

Back at the so-called “Culture Club” stage, Spank Rock and Amanda Blank were leading a sex jam. “All y’all rappers and backpackers walking around like you’re all cool and shit. Fuck y’all,” shouted MC Spank Rock from the stage. Meanwhile, Amanda Blank, perhaps in an attempt to become the white version of Lil Kim, spat super-filthy rhymes with impressive speed. Nearly every word out of her mouth was pussy, cock, or some close derivation. It was amusing to watch, but a crowd of 100 hipster kids really got into it. At one point, the stage filled with girls vying to give MC Spank Rock a lap-dance. The entire spectacle was a counter-revolution to the main stage, where Nas was leading his fervent believers through “One Mic” and “Made You Look.” “I’m proud to be here,” said Nas at one point. “I’m a fan, goddammit!”

Leave headliners A Tribe Called Quest to sum up Rock the Bells’ mix of old glories and new controversies. Sometime near 9 p.m., Q-Tip took the stage with three side musicians, DJ Scratch and Mos Def, who was moonlighting as a hypeman. Wearing a blue Members Only jacket with red stripes on the shoulders, he danced around the stage like Michael Jackson as he performed “Higher” and “Gettin’ Up,” two singles from his years-in-the-making - and still unreleased - album, The Renaissance. As a massive digital billboard seemingly stolen from Daft Punk’s arsenal blinkered and dazzled, the crowd stared straight ahead. People were into it, I guess, but my feeling - and thinking - was, where the fuck is Tribe?

Eventually, though, Q-Tip slowly reeled the audience in with a trio of recognizable tracks: “Let’s Ride,” “Breathe and Stop,” and “Vivrant Thing.” Then the lights shut off for a brief minute. When they were relit, Q-Tip stood onstage with his Tribe - Phife, Jarobi, and Ali Shaheed Muhammad - and the four gave the people what they wanted.