Gampo’s Final Bow: How Prof Became Minneapolis Chaos-King
District, Sioux Falls, South Dakota, USA
The farewell in full color
Effort and enthusiasm over perfection was the night’s thesis, but the execution said otherwise. On November 2, 2025, at The District in Sioux Falls, Prof didn’t just hit the stage — he stepped through it: a set built around a door and a video-house that rained, burned, blinked into motel neon, and then melted into trippy geometry. When the door opened and he walked through, the room detonated. I’ve been to more shows than the average person; this was the loudest I’ve ever heard at this venue. My eargasm earplugs pleading for mercy as the crowd matched his wattage beat for beat.
Weeks earlier, on October 7, 2025, Prof told fans he was pressing pause on U.S. touring for 18–24 months, maybe longer, citing the across-the-board slump in ticket demand. Call it a sabbatical, call it a market correction. Either way, it reframed the night. It felt less like another stop on the route and more like a handshake at the state line.
I arrived early to grab will-call and got waved in without a physical ticket, which stung a collector’s heart, but nostalgia dissolved once Willie Wonka, Prof’s onstage co-conspirator of the last few years, spun up a sticky, high-energy DJ set — Snoop Dogg and DMX shoulder-checking Nirvana and Black Sabbath.
Reeves Junya bounded on next — seventy percent hype, fifteen percent dat track, fifteen percent artist, all propulsion — then dropped one of those simple, ugly-truth bars that stick to the ribs: “I’d be broke as fuck if happiness was currency.”
Then came the Snotty Nose Rez Kids — one member planted kinglike in a chair thanks to a busted leg, the other pinballing across the stage. Half mobile, fully magnetic.
The beauty of hip-hop shows lies in their minimal downtime—just a laptop swap, a breath, and the next wave hits. When Prof finally appeared, stepping through that morphing digital house, The District erupted. The night’s theme, he said, was “effort and enthusiasm over perfection.” Yet what unfolded was pure precision wrapped in chaos.
Prof delivered a relentless set before slowing for a few vulnerable songs near the end — each one stripped of bravado and full of heart. Then, in signature fashion, he climbed aboard his raft and floated across the crowd, the final act of communion between artist and audience.
He played the fan canon you came for — “Squad Goals”, “Light Work”, “Pack a Lunch” featuring Redman, “Motel”, “Andre the Giant”, and “Bar Breaker” — a setlist built like a house party with a trapdoor. Sioux Falls, to its credit, answered with the most electric small-venue chorus I’ve ever seen. Proper send-off. No half-measures.
Where he came from, what he built
Jacob Lukas Anderson (Prof) is Minneapolis to the bone, raised in Powderhorn and apprenticed on stages where timing is a lifeline and personality buys gas money. His early output, Project Gampo (2007), arrived on his own Stophouse Music Group, followed by a run that took him to Rhymesayers Entertainment and back again.
His résumé is gloriously messy: local legend, cult draw, national circuit grinder, punchline alchemist, controversy magnet, independent survivor. The discography stretches from King Gampo (2012) to Liability (2015, Rhymesayers; Billboard 200 #141), Pookie Baby (2018), and the independent resurgence of Powderhorn Suites (2020) and Horse (2023). Each phase refined his chaos into craft.
The albums that define the arc
Liability (2015) — The Rhymesayers debut that opened Prof’s world. Singles like “Bar Breaker” and “Motel” are the neon landmarks characterized by fun-house production, comedic timing, and an elastic flow that whiplashes into tight rhyme schemes. “Bar Breaker” is pure chest and grin. “Motel” is the grimy postcard from the road. The album’s Billboard appearance proved his local chaos could scale nationally without sanding off the edges.
Powderhorn Suites (2020) — The hinge point. After Rhymesayers dropped him amid controversy, Prof doubled down on independence, releasing this album through Stophouse. Its standout, “Squad Goals”, swaggers like therapy through irony. The sound is tighter, darker, the humor sharper. The title is both a love letter to his neighborhood and a scar on its map.
Horse (2023) — His most ambitious self-release yet. Dropped April 14 via Stophouse, it debuted at #2 on Current Rap Albums, #1 Heatseekers, and #1 Emerging Artists, proof the audience rode with him. Collaborations with Redman (“Pack a Lunch”), Method Man, Kevin Gates, Cozz, and Mac Irv cemented him as a peer, not a pupil. The tone: irreverence sharpened into resilience.
The live thesis
Prof performs like a stunt driver who studied theatre. The raft isn’t a gimmick — it’s a thesis: destroy the fourth wall until the wall surfs you. When he frames a night around “effort and enthusiasm over perfection,” it’s not a cop-out, it’s a dare. That’s why rooms like The District tremble when he steps through the door.
Minneapolis in the bloodstream
Every Prof record carries a Minneapolis watermark. The city’s hip-hop lineage — DIY grit, absurdist humor, and genre-crossing confidence — shows up in his palette. His music feels like the Midwest itself. It’s weathered, self-aware, and unwilling to take itself too seriously. He’s always been the comedian who bleeds onstage between punchlines.
The holiday chaser
Seasonal music is usually sugar. Prof brings salt. Cue up “Fuck You It’s Christmas”, released December 18 2019 via Rhymesayers Entertainment and available on Apple Music. It’s a spiked-eggnog anthem for the cheer-averse, equal parts comedy and catharsis. File it under “Holiday Realism.”
The pause, the question, the next door
The touring slowdown isn’t just Prof’s story — it’s the wider industry’s reckoning. Ticket sales across genres have dipped even for headliners, as fans balance nostalgia, cost, and fatigue. In that climate, a blue-collar road-warrior pressing pause feels less like retreat and more like self-preservation.
When he returns — and he will — expect another door, another set piece on fire, another metamorphosis. Until then, the map is in the records: start with Liability’s “Bar Breaker” and “Motel,” move through Powderhorn Suites’ “Squad Goals,” and let Horse gallop with “Pack a Lunch,” “Subpar,” and “Tombstones.” That sequence is the anatomy of Prof: wild humor, heavy truth, survivor’s soul.
And when you need something to scream-sing through December, remember: “Fuck You It’s Christmas.”
