DJ Stylus - The Vibe Conductor

The “ho stroll” being my personal terminology for the mainstream gigs I occasionally play. Despite the fact that the money is always better than any of my gigs where I can be creative and play good music, the ho stroll gigs are becoming increasingly difficult. The last few of them paid for my birthday trip abroad and a bathroom renovation so I should be motivated to keep chasing that paper. But I’m struggling.

I basically have to play music I hate for people I can’t relate to. This nullifies my biggest asset, which is my ability to make an emotional connection with my audience, otherwise known as that whole vibe conducting thing.

It should be easy actually, because most of today’s popular music takes no skill to mix. Actually, you generally don’t have to mix at all. Most of the songs are mad slow and you just drop them on the one and folks go nuts.

To keep the ho stroll money steady, I have to stay current. Usually I just get a zip file from my WPGC connect. That’s much better than the days when I’d have to prepare for such gigs by actually wasting money buying the records. Of course those songs weren’t as bad as today’s songs either. Still, the instant playlist approach means that I end up not knowing the songs very well, so sometimes I have to break down and listen to the radio (nOva, you’re a bigger man than I.)

It withers the soul and makes my brain ache.

Occasionally there’s a decent tune. I’m not mad at the new Lloyd jont, with Weezy interpolating “Paid In Full”. But that appeals to my old school sensibilities so maybe that’s not a good example.

I was struck by the fact that The Dream has a tune with a good melody. The most classic way to make a solid song is so rare on commercial radio that when you hear a standout melody it’s an event. I can’t front though, T-Pain has crafted a few quality melodies. But the props I had ready for The Dream were soured when I heard the album version that has a refrain of “fuck that nigga” sung in falsetto. I recommend the radio edit.

And sometimes I feel like I’m the only one noticing things that should make everyone howl in disbelief, like hearing Too Short’s old ass (who I admittedly loved as a youth) drop these jewels…

I got ten bad bitches, actin’ retarded
I’m tryin’ to meet a few new ones
What’s up with you girl, maybe we can do somethin’
Do you drink, do you smoke?
I could tell by your purse and your shoes you ain’t broke
Hang with me, the first thing you do is get stuck
Take you somewhere, later on you’ll get fucked, beotch!

…sandwiched in between shout-outs from local high school girls. Sometimes I wonder if we’ll ever learn.

But the pièce de résistance (for now) has to be “Bust It Baby”. This one is actually worth an embed. First of all, I can’t believe this saga has three parts, one of which features Janet Jackson (to hell with you Jermaine Dupri).

I now offer an exercise in audience participation. What is the most coonerific facet of the video below?

- the song
- the “performance”
- the outfit
- the comments

Even my little sister - a millennial who generally digs such fare - was like “I have to draw the line somewhere”.

So apparently a 50 year old man has pinned the entire downfall of hip-hop on a wildly popular kid who makes inane, irksome songs.

Fortunately for me and my laziness, Jay Smooth breaks down my thoughts on the matter in bite-sized fashion suitable for a block quote. If I were important I’d make dude my spokesman:

I’d love to see his generation feel more of a connection with our hip-hop, but they don’t OWE that to us. It would only happen if we built relationships with them beyond the same arrogant knee-jerk hate our elders gave to our music. Like Soulja Boy said, if we think they can do better we should be helping them. Or else just accept that they have their own thing that isn’t meant for us, and move on. Cuz we’re sounding way too much like our parents at this point.

There is a troublesome challenge I’m having these days, which is to not let my adherence to standards expand to a close-minded dismissal of everything I can’t immediately relate to. It’s almost like turning into your parents is inevitable.

Well, that’s the mature, measured thought process. My id is also partial to this one.

And in related news from the “I’m old and just can’t understand” department, this hipster hop thing isn’t going away any time soon (the battle still rages, just hasn’t merited any more discussion on these pages.)

I recently had a meeting of the minds on this topic:

stylus: so I’m trying to give the Cool Kids a chance
but it’s just alien to me
they’re talking about ‘88 like they were there
PJ: i could care less.
i’ve never heard any of their shit
i find the whole thing puzzling
PJ: so fucking pretentious
stylus: very puzzling
this article made me hate them
but i’m listening to some stuff now
because I don’t want to be old bitter dude and I want to be fair
is it homage or irony?
the “Black Mags” joint is kinda fun
about picking up a honey on your BMX bike
PJ: arent they from UPENN?
stylus: detroit and chicago
it’s REALLY hard for me to not hate these kids
but then I tell myself, we were borrowing heavily from the ’70s in the ’90s
how are these cats different from Camp Lo?
PJ: they dont have ski beats
and they have the internets
stylus: right
but you know what I mean
Camp Lo bathed in that whole blaxploitation style
isn’t that what these cats are doing, just focusing on a decade later?
PJ: DING DING DING
stylus, you’ve won the contest
wait
does this mean cats are gonna start doing 90s rap next decade?
stylus: very quite possibly
hoodies, Carhart and iggedy biggedy
machetes
tie-top hats
PJ: lol
stylus: east coast stomping
I don’t think cross colours will be resurrected though
so if these youngsters get a pass because our generation did the same shit, why am I still annoyed?
PJ: because it’s lame
pretentious
internets pitchfork blog hype
thats why
stylus: they’re only hot because of the online hype machine?
they actually rap pretty decent
and they name drop the old school a lot
isn’t that a positive thing?
especially since the young generation is so quick to dismiss history
PJ: yeah
i guess so.
stylus: I’m still annoyed though
PJ: rightfully so
stylus: can’t pinpoint why
they’re talking about boomboxes and cassettes and shit
they were 1 and 4 years old in ‘89
PJ: they r posers
stylus: so the rappers who borrowed all that 70’s pimp imagery were poseurs too?
PJ: yes
stylus: there you have it
PJ: but
camp lo werent some upenn grads
this is ivy league suburb 80s poser
i think thats the difference
stylus: where’d see they were upenn grads?
PJ: maybe im making that up
or confusing them
stylus: I tried to post about it a while back
then I couldn’t make myself care any more

Stay tuned to this ongoing process.

For the past 6 years I’ve had to deal with a lot of escalation of beef from the dj booth when I squash R. Kelly requests.

And the saddest part is that black women usually get the most indignant when I respond with “I don’t play the music of child molesters”.

A couple of times I’ve relented. And the joy in the room once I dropped the tune just made me feel terrible. Like a hypocrite.

I haven’t yet heard anyone whooping it up to “Not Guilty” (like ‘Tay predicted) but Jesus be my strength against a grand mal kirk-out if it does come to pass.

It’s much bigger than records at parties though.

We have to do better.

Statement of Black Men Against the Exploitation of Black Women

Six years have gone by since we first heard the allegations that R. Kelly had filmed himself having sex with an underage girl. During that time we have seen the videotape being hawked on street corners in Black communities, as if the dehumanization of one of our own was not at stake. We have seen entertainers rally around him and watched his career reach new heights despite the grave possibility that he had molested and urinated on a 13-year old girl. We saw African Americans purchase millions of his records despite the long history of such charges swirling around the singer. Worst of all, we have witnessed the sad vision of Black people cheering his acquittal with a fervor usually reserved for community heroes and shaken our heads at the stunning lack of outrage over the verdict in the broader Black community.

Over these years, justice has been delayed and it has been denied. Perhaps a jury can accept R. Kelly’s absurd defense and find “reasonable doubt” despite the fact that the film was shot in his home and featured a man who was identical to him. Perhaps they doubted that the young woman in the courtroom was, in fact, the same person featured in the ten year old video. But there is no doubt about this: some young Black woman was filmed being degraded and exploited by a much older Black man, some daughter of our community was left unprotected, and somewhere another Black woman is being molested, abused or raped and our callous handling of this case will make it that much more difficult for her to come forward and be believed. And each of us is responsible for it.

We have proudly seen the community take to the streets in defense of Black men who have been the victims of police violence or racist attacks, but that righteous outrage only highlights the silence surrounding this verdict.

We believe that our judgment has been clouded by celebrity-worship; we believe that we are a community in crisis and that our addiction to sexism has reached such an extreme that many of us cannot even recognize child molestation when we see it.

We recognize the absolute necessity for Black men to speak in a single, unified voice and state something that should be absolutely obvious: that the women of our community are full human beings, that we cannot and will not tolerate the poisonous hatred of women that has already damaged our families, relationships and culture.

We believe that our daughters are precious and they deserve our protection. We believe that Black men must take responsibility for our contributions to this terrible state of affairs and make an effort to change our lives and our communities.

This is about more than R. Kelly’s claims to innocence. *It is about our survival as a community*. Until we believe that our daughters, sisters, mothers, wives and friends are worthy of justice, until we believe that rape, domestic violence and the casual sexism that permeates our culture are absolutely unacceptable, until we recognize that the first priority of any community is the protection of its young, we will remain in this tragic dead-end.

We ask that you:

o Sign your name if you are a Black male who supports this statement:

http://www.petitiononline.com/rkelly/petition.html

o Forward this statement to your entire network and ask other Black males to sign as well

o Make a personal pledge to never support R. Kelly again in any form or fashion, unless he publicly apologizes for his behavior and gets help for his long-standing sexual conduct, in his private life and in his music

o Make a commitment in your own life to never to hit, beat, molest, rape, or exploit Black females in any way and, if you have, to take ownership for your behavior, seek emotional and spiritual help, and, over time, become a voice against all forms of Black female exploitation

o Challenge other Black males, no matter their age, class or educational background, or status in life, if they engage in behavior and language that is exploitative and or disrespectful to Black females in any way. If you say nothing, you become just as guilty.

o Learn to listen to the voices, concerns, needs, criticisms, and challenges of Black females, because they are our equals, and because in listening we will learn a new and different kind of Black manhood

We support the work of scholars, activists and organizations that are helping to redefine Black manhood in healthy ways. Additional resources are listed below.

Books:
Who’s Gonna Take the Weight, Kevin Powell
New Black Man, Mark Anthony Neal
Deals with the Devil and Other Reasons to Riot, Pearl Cleage
Traps: African American Men on Gender and Sexuality, Rudolph Byrd and Beverly Guy-Sheftall

Films:
I Am A Man: Black Masculinity in America, by Byron Hurt
Hip Hop: Beyond Beats and Rhymes, by Byron Hurt
NO! The Rape Documentary, by Aishah Simmons

Organizations
The 2025 Campaign: www.2025bmb.org
Men Stopping Violence: www.menstoppingviolence.org

Hat tip to the homie Ty for the laink:

And on the heels of this topic, be sure to peep the funky and creative exchange between the DJ and the guitarist near the end of the tune. I will definitely be biting.

Again it’s confirmed why folks I know do so well in France. Real black music thrives there, jazz and particularly hip-hop. They’ve already produced some of the world’s best b-boys.

Of course it’s definitely not all good but it comes pretty close to a bizarro version of the U.S. black musical landscape, which would be a place where quality artists actually blow up.

Dill and Jill both knew.

And even when it was much worse across the way, it looked more attractive then trying to outrun the Klan in your tourbus through the Jim Crow south, avoiding fiscal rape at the hands of record companies (plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose) or the best gigs being those where your people weren’t welcome as patrons.

The grass is always greener, I guess.

But this shit is dope. And damn it if isn’t exactly what I envisioned a DJ Stylus solo project would look and sound like.

The homie Murph asks a question that has been haunting me for a minute.

Amazingly he’s launching this real talk missile from behind enemy lines. He’s definitely invested in fighting the good fight and I marvel at how he persists in the face of indifference.

In this case, his wake up call is too crucial to be ignored, even for someone like me who was devouring the Harper Brothers, Giant Steps and Headhunters in high school.

I don’t keep up like I used to. The last new jazz record I bought was indeed a Robert Glasper album, but it had been a long time since I sought out and tracked down the newest happenings in the jazz world. I still dig for classics but I don’t put in the same amount of work compared to the soul, hip-hop and electronic nuggets I’m always chasing.

I actually prefer to consume my jazz in the live setting. The dynamics of a jazz combo are more gratifying to me that way: observing how the pianist comps the changes, how the drummer embellishes the soloist’s lines, creating a push and pull conversation. Subconsciously though, there’s an element of doing my part to pay the life support bill. You can experience really great jazz for free in DC but occasionally I’ll pony up the big dough to catch someone who’s on my personal checklist of people I need to see. I’m acutely aware of the fact that few in my age range do the same thing, and pretty much no black people younger than myself have similar priorities.

As more and more jazz legends pass on, many of whom have labored in obscurity, I can’t help but see the future of hip-hop. It’s current state of inanity is rapidly digging a deep grave of obsolescence. By the time cats like Ken Swift, KRS-One or even EPMD are ready to take their final bow, will the generation raised on Weezy and Soulja Boy even care? Will black people ever acknowledge the amazing peerless career that The Roots have had or will they get one of those belated Lifetime Achievement Awards 20 years after their final record?

It’s really not looking good.

And if we really are on the way to discarding jazz like an old pair of shoes, there goes another huge component of a collective black soul that’s on its way to being a memory.

The Long Tail theory has been my security blanket since I first encountered it, despite the way the concept has been abused and misunderstood since then. It analyzes a changing marketplace where progressive and non-mainstream art can survive the implosion of the music industry. I’ve seen these trends at work with a lot of my peers who are able to carve out decent careers in relative obscurity.

I had not really thought about the drawbacks of nicheification until Chris Rizik of SoulTracks.com dropped this sharp piece that cites Michael Jackson’s Thriller as the end of an era of shared cultural reference points through music.

While the pursuit of the hit has become downright tyrannical and led to the current arms race of records (and careers) that are down to a maximum shelf life of a year and falling, there’s something to be said for landmark records that burn themselves into the shared cultural landscape.

Lots of concepts to ponder, like how this fragmentation has parallels in what we’re currently seeing in the presidential race:

In the political scene, at least, the short term results have been abysmal, as parochial media have played their role in polarizing “red” and “blue” America, effectively demonizing people of good will with differing opinions. And the increased media stratification will continue a sort of cultural mitosis, splitting us into thousands of mini-empires, each suspicious of those who look, think and act differently.

It also helps me make sense of a conundrum that gives me a headache every time I contemplate it - which is how is it possible that black music is currently wallowing in a cesspool of homogeneous coonery while simultaneously producing so much solid, forward thinking material that I can’t keep up with it all? If modern black music was mapped out like a Venn diagram, the circles would rarely touch, much less overlap.

I guess the important thing is not to allow the convenience of insularity to breed contempt. It’s just so hard to avoid, especially when you’re marginalized by what’s popular.

As time passes, more and more new hip-hop developments leave me feeling like a foreigner in my own country. I relate to the hipsters about as well as I can relate to dirty south snap music. But it’s important to keep an open mind, as I could easily become the Bill Cosby of hip-hop. I also haven’t forgotten the fact that labels can be divisive, constraining and just plain irksome: see “backpack rap“, “alternative hip-hop“, “emo rap” and “neo-soul” (why was I so angry?)

With all of that in mind, I dip in occasionally and am pleased to find some cats who rap pretty good. Those experiences are generally overshadowed by the ones that leave me bored, perplexed or unable to determine where the irony begins.

So I was intrigued when I belatedly came across the first (as far as I’m aware) hipster hop diss record.

He goes hard but it’s not solely an attention grab or an exercise in “hating“. The beef that stood out the most for me is the rampant cultural appropriation. My cynicism cranks up when I see keffiyeh going the fad route and I’m not even Palestinian.

Now I’m unsure of my opinion on the revelation that it was all an “experiment“.

So does the fact that he really went in and then said “psych” - while still standing by the assertions that you can’t live hip-hop on the internet and trendism leads to disposable music - water down his whole argument?

I like NYOil’s approach better, although the target is different.

But this Mazzi cat succeeded on one front. I wasn’t aware of him before and I’ll be checking for him in the future. And both beats were heaters. And I’m quite un-mad at the b-girls in the video too.

This video was on a promo cd I got from her a few years ago. Glad that it made its way to the internets. It’s funny how things come back around. King mentions Sylk City in the vid and last year he brought it back and I hear that they go hard again like the old days.

I damn near had a spiritual moment the last time she rocked in DC. Her command of her band, her material and her voice… I really felt like I was witnessing something akin to what our parents experienced watching Chaka, Tina or Gladys in their primes. Part of it is that Alma affirms that the musical traditions we cherish are being maintained, developed and pushed forward.

When Alma sings you just feel HAPPY. Maybe it’s because she’s so happy. Even if she just jumps up in the middle of a P.A. to belt out a couple with the DJ, she’s FEELING it. Her joy is contagious, virulent even. It’s like she has jumper cables for your soul.

Sometimes I get antsy waiting for the egregiously overdue solo album but there are still a bunch of her collabos floating around that I have yet to acquire and there are always new ones popping up out of nowhere. (Jungle Love? Word?!?)

BTW, if you missed Twilight when it dropped, please get caught up.

TUNE!!!

The Mashi jont particularly… yikes.

SHOWMANSHIP. Interplay. Creativity.

No push button dj’ing with explosions and gun shots all over everything. No safety net (the only safety net being the ability to improvise when something goes wrong… and something ALWAYS goes wrong on stage).

And I don’t mean a rap group with a turntablist who does his battle routine in the middle of the show. I’ll take the good ones over most modern day hip-hop shows but it’s not an integrated experience.

A DJ + an MC + a band + dancers. Hella rare in 2008. You definitely don’t need all of those ingredients but the most important part is actually putting some thought into it at the very least. Some personality & charisma go a long way.

Why do people pay money to see bammas walk back and forth across the stage shouting over each other and hardly engaging with the audience except to berate them or bully them? Is that supposed to be entertaining?

No wonder I rarely go to hip-hop shows anymore. And with record sales in the toilet, EVERYBODY has to tour these days, so the quotient of crap shows is shooting upwards.

And the “shows” that aren’t outright belligerent are really pep rallies. Most times if you hear that an act rocked their show, it wasn’t because their performance was particularly engaging. It’s because they have hits and everyone was excited to be in the same room with their favorite rappers yelling the lyrics at the top of their lungs. It’s a karaoke party. Admittedly, that can be fun sometimes (like the last time I saw A Tribe Called Quest) but in general I need a much more substantial experience for my concert dollars.

I guess I’m just old school.

And I’m fine with that.

So hauntingly beautiful, simple yet powerful. Such an organic interplay between the decks, samplers and drums. I hadn’t even seen this clip when I did this.

But the flick has been on my purchase list for a while. I finally pulled the trigger and ordered it. I was inspired.

Rhomiepalooza IV might be in Brazil this year and I am amped.