December 10, 2013
I broke my nose in a fight once. It was a short scuffle between me and a 1987 Dodge Caravan. I picked up some groceries to set it down on the ground and when I turned around, “WHAM!”…the hydraulic pumps holding the trunk buckle and it shifted my nose a few millimeters to the right. To this day I have never fixed my nose…and to this day, girls will still say that I have a big forehead.
Self proclaimed true emcee and fellow nose face killah KRS-ONE stopped by Yoshi’s this past Thursday. With an astounding 12 albums and 6 with BDP, Kris now has to rely on jazz clubs in the Fillmore district in order to supplement his 401k rather than sold out arenas.
Music now a days is all about trends and sadly KRS-ONE has not succumbed himself in learning how to twerk on stage. But what you lack in frivolous hot ass, you gain in quality showmanship and sharp microphone skills. This concert in its truest form was all about fun and reliving a past that is now gone but memorable in good morale. This is just not music but an excerpt of our history. It’s a time where we had to break down barriers and fight a system that society has structured us to be. Unteach what has been taught; reprogram the program; untweet the retweet. Does any of this stuff make sense? Good!…cause I have no idea what I am saying.
December 4, 2013
The mud butt god’s must have thought it was pretty funny to give me some sort of poo-poo virus Thanksgiving day rather than the normal food coma that comes from eating the dirty bird. Thank heaven for early Black Friday sales as my local Target was still open past midnight and saved me the shame of throwing my hands in the air and waving all around like I just don’t care from a toilet stall at the Mezzanine at the Cream of Beat show. That really wouldn’t be very hip-hop of me (although Biz made Pickin Boogers).
Fresh off from his Kimye debacle, local grown and ex-KMEL cohort Sway managed to come home for the holidays. Kudos on his calm composure for not folding Kanye West into a human origami crane and proceeding to Kirk Franklin stomp the shit out of him. Any less of an Oakland man would have seized the opportunity.
If I was Mexican, I would want Chuey Gomez to be my father’s girlfriend’s 2nd brother from her mother’s 3rd marriage. Uncle Chuey along with countless of other radio vets helped put KMEL in the broadcast universe as a dominant force in the west coast. A couple of months ago, execs decided to pay homage to his long lived career by giving him an unexpected pink slip for his 20 year tenure. To add insult to injury, KMEL would later fire his morning radio DJ Mind Motion because he too was of Latin decent.
On the cards, Spice 1 was supposed to perform as the opening act but there was some dependencies and Fillmore local San Quinn
replaced him in his absence.
And representing Brownsville (BK) and pure gold dookie ropes…my man Masta Ace from the almighty Juice Crew sets it off at 2am till our slumber. And this all happened on a Thursday.
November 17, 2013
I sort of duct taped my mouth for reasons unknown for the year 2013. Part of it was just letting my photos do the business and the other part was this unknown growth in the lower part of my brain that blocked the surge of creative juices from flowing to the rest my big ass head. I think the doctor (let’s call her mother) called it “you lazy fuck” syndrome when I was a kid. Sadly my lack of writing did not work to my advantage. If we’re talking sheer numbers, this site lost over 80% of its viewers. Blame it on the juice, blame it on the Henny…but I blame it on social media. Those quick fix assholes are killing the blog game, while we still have those pen and ink hippies that are still flipping the bird to us computer campers for selling out to the masses. Got to love that battle of who’s keeping it real and who is keeping it even more real than the really real folks. I don’t think I even keep it wun-hunned.
So why the revival? Let’s just say I have to get my skills right for blogging to a bigger crowd now. Time to put my game face back on and start talking about my constant struggle of me getting hemorrhoids on the toilet. This should be fun!
November 11, 2013
Reality hits in mysterious ways. Almost to the point where I want to drive a No. 2 pencil directly in my eye sockets so I can get that rude awakening that I ever so need. I was scrolling the dial on my rental a few months back trying to get to Howard 100 on Sirius when I land on channel 46, BackSpin radio. I am thinking I am on some real old man Herbie Hancock and Grandmaster DXT music but found myself comfortably in that “my car got that knock cause I installed a bazooka tube in my 1994 Toyota Tercel” era that I was all too familiar with. Then it hit me. My first slow dance was to Diamonds & Pearls, Boys 2 Men surpassed Elvis in consecutive weeks as the #1 single with End Of The Road when I was in 5th grade, and 2Pac died when I was a freshman in high school. I am
gettin’ friggin’ old man.
A-Plus of the mighty Hieroglyphics
crew. The left coast version of Wu-Tang.
There was a gaze in GZA‘s eyes as he seemed strained tonight. Perhaps it was a late night lecture that he has been doing as of late or his wife/girlfriend couldn’t quite fit shaft and balls in her mouth at the same time. I don’t know what it was but he seemed unfocused and energy more so surged from the crowd rather from him.
Let’s talk Wu-Tang. 20 years ago they gifted the world with Enter The 36 and there really hasn’t been an album nor a group quite like it ever since. As a dull witted West-Coastian, this album has taught me the following:
W) What’s in a name? Apparently the more you have, the more successful you are. Method Man would just not be as cool if he stuck to his real name Clifford.
U) Unbeknownst to me, some black people do actually like to play chess and watch kung-fu flicks.
T) The borough of Staten Island is referenced as Shoalin and to contrary belief, is not located in China.
A) Apparently Jacques Cousteau can’t get as low as Ol’ Dirty bastard.
N) Never ever lose Raekwon’s killa tape.
G) GZA is the head if the group formed like Voltron.
God bless the Clan. They are the modern day Temptations of my time. I can’t wait to see them at my nearest wine festival.