“Even though there aren’t many of y’all here, we’re still gonna give 110 percent!” De facto headliner Pac Div‘s earnest attempt to enliven a paltry and catatonic crowd last night for the Grind N Hustle Tour’s stop at the Croc felt like the time my Pee Wee baseball coach took the whole team out for ice cream after I miraculously got a hit: well-intentioned, but thinly veiling the fact that you suck and everyone knows it.

The stacked bill was scheduled to feature headliner Killer Mike, the aforementioned Angelenos, and Young Dro, and so one would think would have been a serious draw. Maybe everyone was tired from a long weekend of shows; maybe it was because Seattle cannot support three hiphop shows in one night, with Crooked I and Donny Goines Donnis playing separately across town; maybe the 206 just isn’t that into Southern rap, and that’s why so few make their way this far north. Or maybe, just maybe, everyone else knew something about the artist receiving top billing that I did not. But for whatever reason, attendance was weak and the attendees’ enthusiasm just as feeble.

Locals with Atlanta connections J.Pinder and Sonny Bonoho played two quick songs each to open as the sparse audience stayed firmly glued to the bar at the back of the floor. Undaunted, both spat earnestly and Pinder spent his time on the floor in front of the stage, literally trying to bring the show to the audience in spite of scant response. New Orleans Lil Wayne clone Dee-1 persistently performed as well, even charming the audience into scattered laughs at a couple points.

The Croc had just a little bit more bite when a very dapper Young Dro took the stage after spending most of the opening hours chilling by the bar, taking pictures and giving dap to those who recognized and approached him. Donning all Ralph Lauren everything and a chain with a fat and sparkly “Dro” emblem, Dro Polo’s hard-nosed delivery and forceful demeanor contrasted greatly with his tucked-in shirt, carefully creased khakis and banana yellow sweater lightly draped over his shoulders. Dancing to “Shoulder Lean” and new single “Polo Down” (which has a pretty great video), people were enjoying themselves and reciprocating the artist’s energy for one brief, shining moment.

As Dro left the stage and took the most lustrous piece of jewelry in the building, nay, all of Puget Sound with him, so went the glow of a live rap show Camelot, or at least the closest last night would come to that by a long shot. Admirably three-man weaving in a set almost as tight as the clump of mic cables binding them together, Pac Div were met mostly with indifference and a viewing public that thinned out even more through their set. Sparse, old-school thuds and snaps begged the question: if an 808 slaps in a venue but nobody is there to hear it, does it make a sound?

After their set, a duo of Southern unknowns performed before one DJ started playing Killer Mike classics. However, when another was asked if Mike was in the building, this turntablist shook his head no. Shortly thereafter, the DJs began packing up the mixer and closed their laptops. The lights came on. The audience was told to pay their tabs and leave; show’s over. No announcement. No explanation. And no Mike.

After the initial venting and Twitter ranting passed, I was left feeling relieved. A moment of unadulterated embarrassment was avoided for the city of Seattle and its hiphop community. Rarely do Southern rap acts in their prime, particularly ones about to release one of the more anticipated albums of the year, come to the Northwest. The Grind N Hustle concert was a special treat left untouched and seemingly unwanted. Killer Mike deserved better, much better.

On Twitter this morning, @Mike_Bigga apologized for so unceremoniously bouncing on the show and pledged to be back in the summer. If he had been there last night, it’s doubtful he, or any other Southern artists of his caliber, would want to come back to our neck of the woods anytime soon.