Ludacris was here. And it was good. But I've been to enough rap shows in my day that I'm beginning to notice some patterns. Behold, the five basic truths about rap concerts.

1. Rappers aren't the most reliable people in the world. All too often (actually, at every rap show I've ever been to), you'll go to see somebody and find an opener has canceled, rescheduled or, worse yet, found a replacement. This certainly was the case at Ludacris, since openers Young Gunz apparently got stuck in traffic and never got out of it. But I wanted to hear "Can't Stop, Won't Stop!" C'est la vie, Chris and Neef.

2. Rappers like noise. The whole "ya'll can be louder than that" thing that kicks off every rap show ever seems unnecessary, but when people are into it, it does get people appropriately hyped. But even for a town not exactly known for supporting hip-hop, the introduction to the biggest rap star in the world (if you actually believe Jay-Z is retired) was pretty unimpressive. Luda was nice about it, though. Probably because he'd get sued if he didn't come out.

3. Some people will crowd surf to any kind of music. Look, kids. I know you like beer, and I know you like having a lot of people you don't know touch you. And you must like getting dropped on your heads, too, since that's what happens when you crowd surf at a rap show. Particularly when you don't even wait until the rapper comes out to do so. Just, you know, be mindful of the fact that some people aren't too happy about having to hold your drunk self up.

4. Rap shows have very little to do with rap. This is a two-fold problem. Every rapper I've ever seen feels the need to bring out a crew of two or three MCs to rhyme along with him or her. Rap crews are intrinsically fine, but Luda's crew isn't exactly the Wu-Tang Clan, and when there are three or four people onstage rapping along to the same song, well, all you can make out is the hook. The other thing is, though Ludacris is certainly one of the most talented MCs out there, his fan base is more concerned with yelling "roll out!" at the appropriate time than hearing him, you know, rap. It's as much Luda as the crowd, but we've come a long way from Rakim insisting, "I took the time to write, tonight I will recite."

5. Rappers are busy, busy people. With Young Gunz presumably throwing the Rocafella sign up toward various livestock off of I-80 somewhere, Bryce Jordan Center marketing director (and hardest working man in showbiz) Bernie Punt hopped onstage to tell us Ludacris would be "coming on earlier, and playing for longer." That's not how these things usually go, I immediately thought, but when Luda mentioned halfway through the set that he was going to "play until they kicked [him] off the stage," I figured maybe we had another Pearl Jam-length epic on our hands. It was 9:17 p.m. when Luda made this proclamation, and he was done at 9:53. Total time for the set? One hour exactly. Where did Luda have to go that he only had an hour to give us?

The Luda show was pretty good; he kept the crowd going (although apparently I wasn't on the "live side" of the stage), he played all the hits, and he seemed happy to be here on a Friday night. I couldn't have been the only one bummed about not seeing Young Gunz, and even though I know it's summer, I can't help but wish more people would go to these things. But mostly I'm just glad student tickets were only $9.50, since I would have been pretty ticked off had I paid in full for an hour of music.