Spanish Patois y Fanta Naranja

Now I get to exponentially speed up the internal clock at Magic where I'll prolly collapse in a ditch somewhere. Post-whoring, heading out to the Yay. San Francisco heads yoller about Labor Day plans please.

Will probably resume regular updating in a week or so. For now, peas to Urn for staying on top of News & Booze.

First link back comes courtesy of DZ: The C Rayz Walz viddy for Blackout. Funny fun fun fun.

An ill mind loses his battle with brain cancer.

May 23, 1934 - August 21, 2005

Audio science and synthesizer technology pioneer Robert Arthur Moog passed away yesterday.
Respect.

Blatow.

Since I'm dipping to run some errands and see The Freshest Kids in the not-so-distant future, I just wanted to drop a quick post for my b-boy and girls out there. Run it.

NYC: Tonight, URB presents B-Sides at Joe's Pub. For the grand, grand price of free-99, you get Pigeon John, Cool Calm Pete (the new album is lava, bytheway), Apsci, and others.

Wow. Large Professor receives the type of love over in Japan that he should get Stateside...though I wasn't really fucking with that last album ("Stay Chiseled" what?). It's "Mad Scientist" all day, round here. And speaking of the Extra P...

Diggin' in the Journalistic Crates: No, it's not from an old On the Go or ego trip issue (though I got a stack), but a good article on little-known but highly influential producer Paul C uncyberspaced from 360hiphop's vaults (remember them before Russel Simmons lost the domain?). A lengthy yet quality read.

Pues, les veo.

Ennui Keep Going into the Future.

If there's a hell below...

I'm going to reason with y'all--I am experiencing some heavy existential crisiosis. Thusly, I am very much not one with the Web right now. So I hope some of the banter here brings somebody enjoyment. I'm going to go curl into a ball and eat a pulled-pork sammich as soon as I'm finished with this summamabitch.

Yo, DC Heads! Tomorrow night, Hiero, Non-Phixion, OC, and others at the 9:30 Club , $18. There are also dates for Jedi Mind Tricks, Z-Trip, and M.I.A. on the horizon.

Kanye and Common do their thing for "live" for AOL Sessions, flippin' the material a bit. And, of coure, Ye's intro is straight swole-headed comedy. (courtesy of Spine Magazine)

Mi compay Tim Dog refers me to some online scientician when I ask him help. Uh, thanks, man.

Positively Dusted: See how many songs you all can identify from the originals in DJ Semantik's "100 BREAKS" Mix
In an effort to show my love and respect, as well as add to this amazing movement that we call Hip-Hop culture, "100 Breaks" has emerged. "100 Breaks" is a collection of original breaks and samples, all of which have significantly influenced my life and musical tastes. I hope that listening to this mix can in some way shape and inspire you in the same way that the producers, dj's and mc's have inspired me with their renditions of these amazing musical accomplishments.

Oh yeah, last time I was in New York, I was 'sposed to meander out to Coney Island to peep ESPO and Company's shop-wreckage at the Dreamland Artist Club. (via A Silent Flute)

Japanese Humanoid Weirdness, Part 2: Whadafunk? I hope this is come kind of satire and not straight entertainment, if there is such a thing. (courtesy of The Stencil).

And finally, Via extended family and Tom Morello-props-recipients Outernational are gonna rocking for the freer world a lot in the immediate future. Their next show is scheduled for this Thursday, August 18th with Basement Bhangra at SOB's in NYC. Additional dates are listed here.

Okeydokey. It's a fine time for swine time.

Crazy Flamboyant from the Rap Enjoyment

I've always liked plums...

Forget the intro, the game is afoot!

Wu-Tang viddies out the wazoo (via Spine Magazine).

A little late notice, but Ms. Dynamite's lil' bro and rapper in-his-own-right Kano has a double-date tomorrow with the City That Never Sleeps (no, not Boise, idiots, I'm talking about New York): a both sides of the pond bond/promotional move/hipster orgy with Ju-elz as part of the East River Music Project, and, later on, a probably already sold out performance at The Knitting Factory with Diplo sponsored by, guess who? Fader mag. But maybe the folks out at Roll Deep right now will be too Cockney-ed out for tomorrow...yeah, prolly not.

Hold up...Jim Jarmusch, Bill Murray, and Jeffrey Wright (possibly the only cool person--aside from yours truly--to graduate from my high school) have made a movie together and I'm just now getting wind of it?!? And it's out now? Okay, okay...I've lost my cinemaphile credentials. But one more question, though--What fucking acccent is JW speaking in? British East Indian? I'm seeing Broken Flowers this weekend to clear all this up. And, no, it's not a remake of Broken Blossoms, thank goodness.

Junichi over at Pop Licks drops more blogular gems today than I could muster in a lifetime with 30 Things That Are Hard for Him to Accept (Part One-Mo'gain). Kabbalah.

A double dose of WTF both for the cultural insensitivity of this site and...uh...the fact that it's goddamn soy soylent green! Plus, from what I "hear," people taste like pork, anyway.

In parting, I think I might go to the National Powwow tomorrow to see what that's about. It's almost calming to me to be around other minorities even more vexed with white folks than I am. Kidding. Kinda.

Inward Side Outward

A hit-it-and-quit-it entry today. Carpal Tunnel ain't gon get me yet!

Your Momma's so stupid she buys her disses off eBay. (via Spine Magazine)

I'm not racist against Japanese people...I got Japanese friends (best excuse ever)...but they've finally managed to create something more frightening than all the other frightening shit that they've imagined up--a life-sized (albeit anatomically censored) R Kelly doll (via All HipHop).

And while my mind is on racialism: What's our motherfuckin name? Now, though I do prefer non-slurs to slurs and personally take issue with the idea of blackness (as oppsoed to Africanness), will a renaming really make a damn differenece in the face of the neocolonial mindset of post-911 so-called Western democracies? They can call you a man, but as long as they treat you like a dog, it's an empty gesture. I think the dialogue about nomenclature is important, but only in the hands of the people.

Black Bretons still on my mind, MTV talks about Grime. And, of course, they lead off an article on rapidly growing Afro-British underground music scene with the "female Eminem". Yo, no bad blood against Lady Sovereign on my part, but that's so fucking typical. They also completely neglect cats like Roots Manuva and Ty who have been putting down the UK Hiphop scene proper, in lieu trendhopping. But should I have expected more? And what, exactly, does the author mean by "buck bounce," "more black," and "buckshot"?

Jeff Chang and Sylvia Chan sat down to dissect Hollywood blockbuster Crash some time ago, but it's still worth reading if you haven't. (via Can't Stop Won't Stop)

And lastly, before I drop something gets me permanently barred from newsing-n-boozing, Jef sends good words from the Rich Coast.

amigos
life saunters on... actually it feels like my time here has been speeding by,
but in a good way. in the 'i don't have to go to work or take out the trash'
kind of way. the 'hey, i think i'm going to go dig up some turtle eggs for
dinner' kind of way. almost. i've gotten used the the mosquitos and have now
made it all the way to level 4 where i'm learning the difference between saber
& conocer (ej. conozco su madre - i 'know' your mom. and yo se sobre su madre -
i know about your mom.) also, the exciting form of future tense has opened doors
and allowed me to write a whole page about "el futuro del mundo". maybe i'll
submit it to some high-brow journals or something seeing as how i'm so
insightful.

un abrazo
ix

The Youth Done Been Restless

Belooba reps Amarillo and Outerspace hard.

Hey, party people in the place to be. Sorry I never came through with the free events blog Thursday, but, as usual, shit got hectic before I dipped northward. Here are two helpful resources for my New York heads planning your weekends: MyOpenBar and FreeNYC.The former favors the hipster strip and the latter evidently thinks 50 is a good rapper (August 9th's update), but hey, no site lives up to VIA standards...heh.

I just woke up a couple hours ago after a rather lethargic day with some fresh, itchy bite marks on my leg and arm and on my way to the medicine cabinent to Cortisone the hell out of em I crossed paths with the largest spider I have ever scene outside of a zoo setting chilling in the sink. I don't have a picture of said beast for obvious reasons--I'll take "Paralytic, mind-numbing arachnophobia for 1000, Alex"--but, uh, the idea that that mighta bit me makes me consider sleeping in a trash bag tonight. Yo, DZ, what's up with all these monster bugs?

Anyhow, back to the trip, much love to all the good people, old and new, whom I connected with. Shoutout to Rolando and Eli taking some much needed musical equipment to the raperos in Cuba and shown-proving that US hiphop is bigger than bling. Shoutout to Def Poets Dahlak (that ain't his picture, by the way) and Chinaka for unexpectedly blessing me with some live/living words Thursday night, along with Charan who I don't have a page for. Shoutout to Ms. Sasha over in España ahorita for hitting the Deitch Projects with me. For those of y'all unable to check out the installations by Barry McGee and SWOON, aquí están unas fotos: 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

Sunday, I and a coupla good folks waded through the Billburgers and the blogerati to see M.I.A at Central Park. We made a plan to leave like 3 hours ahead to make sure we got in and ended up sneaking in towards the front with a friend. Good thing, too, cuz the line was crucial.The show opened up to sound problems, rain threats, and lukewarm crowd response--especially during sets by DJ Rekha and Diplo (linked below)--but a hype-albeit-choppy-as-hell performance from special guest Mr. Vegas brought some ruckus to the set (though he didn't finish a single goddamn song), and Maya just tore shit up, WITH an encore (did we want more). I was too busy dancing and people watching to snap a lot of shots, but BIZ-IZ-ZAM. And no, I don't have any pictures of that white dancer shaking her tailfeather, so don't even ask me.

As bad as I've been over the last two days about recouping from the weekend, hitting up the Nati in 2 days is pretty unrealistic at this point, but Scribble Jam is looking particularly fiyah this year, it's tenth anniversary . I'm just wondering, though: is the inclusion of such dancefloor-friendly acts like DJs Cosmo Baker, Ayres, and Diplo in the mix, and Spankrock on the mic, URB-influenced or just a sign that the usual b-boys want to increase their chances of getting non-sausage play against Slug?

And before I'm out, if y'all didn't know already, FUCK THE P.G. PO-LEAST! Last Thursday marked the fourth time Cheverly police have stopped me to ask if I live in my own neighborhood. I'm like the most pedestrian cat up in here, yo--anyone who actually pays attention to area activity could tell you that. Next time the porkers stop me and ask where I live, I'm telling em to ask their mothers, fuckers.

A Heavenly Voice Has Gone Home

Music is my passion, my life, it is what I like to do best. I feel
lucky to receive this gift from life at my age, and I want to enjoy
it as much as I can. You must remember I fought all my life for
music, and I didn't get much. I finally gave up, I retired, and
then it turns out to be that the best was still about to come into
my life. When you do things with love, everything turns out well.

Ibrahim Ferrer
February 20, 1927 - August 7, 2005

Neva Trussed A Big Butt & A Smile...

Yo, after much ado about something (BS and tech issues), I'd finally gotten around to putting down an entry, when fuckin Safari had to go and crash. So before I turn around and become a Luddite, here's my abridged entry.

Two weekends ago (when I was sposed to have done my first log, cough cough), me and the fam headed deep into Outer Bumblefuck aka Southern Maryland to get out BBQ-n-beach on. It was a long and perilous journey--ok, just 2 really uncomfortable hours after several of waiting to leave, a near car accident, and getting yelled at for not navigating in shotgun--but after driving past miles (or should I say acres) of farmland and the future site of the Confederate Memorial Park, we arrived at our destination, Point Lookout. And, yo, to my total surprise, even this far out just about every beachgoer had a tan of the permanent variety; in fact, I'd say that, if I hadn't wimped out of the pickup soccer game going on next to our gazeebo, I'd have heard about as much Spanish that day as Ant and Jef are hearing now. After assisting on the grill/making sure I'd get top-choice on food, grubbing, getting my musical selection thoroughly gritted on by most in attendance (hey, I had to bring something PG, close-minded bamas!), and fake remembering relatives I son forgot the names of, me and my big cousin 'De headed towards the water with the lil youngins in tow. Unfortunately, though, it was such a nice day that I guess the jellyfish had also decided to have a family get togeter at the Point, quickly crushing our hopes of taking a dip unless we had a deathwish. Still, determined to enjoy the surf, me and big blood headed to rent a canoe, but were once again without luck, despite the greatest pretzel-logic spitting effort ever targeted at a teenage National Park employee this summer, hands down. At least the long walk back to the gazeebo provided enough comedy (me be startled by and attacking an already dead snake), conversation, and enjoyment ("alternative barbecue") to make uo for the trek. Overall, I'd have to say it was a quality day.

On the flipside of not-exactly family outtings, me and my homeboy Tim slid out to his former stomping grounds of Bodymore, Murderland to catch the inimitable Spank Rock at the Ottobar last Friday night. Hops and barley, y'all. The crowd wasn't as large as it should have been, but it was diverse and ready to dance, and filled out a bit towards the headliner. My former NYU bull, renaissance man and all-round good guy Chip Martucci was in attendance as well (not that that should be surprising, since he's down with BBC), and grabbed us from a meandering bar convo to check out the opening band, Kudu. The trio definitely got the crowd's blood starting to flow, with vocalist Sylvia's sultry sangin' driven by dirty-meaning-good synth lines and heavy drums on a positively retro vibe. Not long after, Naeem-n-them hit the stage on a mission. Spank had defintely stepped his game up, borrowing some micstand maneuvers from what looked like the JB catalog, as he blazed through a short-yet-invigorating set of machine-gun witticisms accompanied by DJs XXXchange and Chris Rockwell and--arguably, the additional headliners--his perennial djembe drummers and West African style/syncronized step/slow-wind dancers. Their was nuff show highlights (anybody with video hosting links, get at me), but his lead single...ahem..."Put That Pussy on Me," might possibly have taken the proverbial cake, specially when a fair lassy from the audience got on stage to serve Spank with some simulated cowgirl action. All I'm sayin is that mellow needs to put out a DVD in addition to an album, for real.

Today, Imma hit up the Provisions Library. They're currently hosting month-and-some-change-long hiphop exhibit and forum entitled, "Change Methods," with a boatload of resources on display, including visual art by Kehinde Wiley and Iona Rozeal Brown, a ton of videos and documentaries available including Just to Get a Rep which I peeped last week, a couple audio mixes, and more books and articles on hip-hop than I've probably ever seen in one place. Definitely fresh, dope, and things of that sort, and the film screenings are a great place politic with local heads, since DC ain't exactly known for its Hiphop scene.

Well, that's it for now, kiddies. Next time I won't be so up in my own Kool Aid. Heading for NYC tomorrow, so I promise I'll lace y'all again beforehand, probably pertaining to the free stuff poppin off a-yonder.

Happy Born-Day, Mista Chuck!