And now, the smash follow-up to episode 1!

A reminder not to always judge a book by its cover.

F**k breakfast, get money.

This is 100% true, 100% of the time.

#everyoneisaDJ

I’ve done this before and no, sir, it’s not a little thing. It’s the type of thing that keeps your soul from dying.

It wasn’t even a smartphone.

*fist pump*

BONUS TRACK:

They missed most of the classics that will never die, but presented some of the others that I’m less familiar with because of the younger/druggier/bro-steppier demographic. I have gotten the “play something more ghetto” one many times.

…wherein I give you an insider perspective into the observations of the people laboring skillfully to make sure you have a fun night on the town.

Shrewd cost/benefit analysis.

Happens all the time.

a.k.a. the CTRL-ALT-DEL move.

File under “aspirational”, “#firstworldproblems“, “integrity” and “perspective”.

Gulf of understanding ever widening. See next tweet.

Planned Obsolescence: The Extinction Agenda.

Focused marketing campaign + high nicotine content = addicted Negroes. Still racist though.

It was my first time, and with all things late pass related, the prevailing wisdom is that the best days have passed, despite SXSW 2011 being the most attended in all of the event’s 25 years. Assessments of shark jumping are usually based on the indie spirit giving way to mainstream tastes and corporate control. Or in the words of the homie Phonte:

I can dig it. Kanye threw a massive, “secret” concert on Chevrolet’s dime, Pepsi turned an entire city block into a brand awareness playground and I drank gallons of free Miller Lite. But there were still weirdos who would never have any connection to sponsorship or a record label playing in every nook and cranny of the city. And a festival that started out focused on rock music has gradually been making space for hip-hop as well as DJs and electronica. Regarding how the music game has collapsed changed, the genie can’t go back into the bottle. But if one is looking for a new business model, SXSW may hold some clues.

I also must add that for an event of its size, SXSW was very well run. Being an official showcase artist resulted in some great perks. (thanks, Senari!)

If you’re not familiar with my WMC exploits, SXSW is similar, where one must maintain a breakneck pace to keep up with all the fun to be had and talent to be discovered. Since my rookie status required me to acclimate, I didn’t go as hard as I should have. So this roll call is of Artists I Regret Missing Whom You Should Definitely Support:

The Adrian Younge Black Dynamite Sound Orchestra
Andreya Triana
Belleruche
Chromeo
Matt And Kim
Homeboy Sandman
Los Rakas
Tanya Morgan

As WaPo’s Chris Richards smartly noted:

…in 2011, you don’t go to SXSW to discover your new favorite bands. You go to see if they can do justice to the MP3s you’ve been gorging on all winter.

So I did end up seeing artists I’ve seen before and had long since been stanning for. Missing new folks in order to see Kokayi, Black Milk, Quadron, J*DaVeY and Little Dragon deliver exceptional sets in Austin was worthwhile and scratched my fanboy itch.

But I’d be remiss to travel all the way to Texas to only see folks I already like. The best experience I had seeing someone for the first time was an intimate, front porch performance by Meklit Hadero at an Ethiopian restaurant in East Austin. Her mix of jazz and folk was the perfect set of nuances and depth to balance out the frenzy of everything else happening during the week.

As noted above, DJ’s are gradually infiltrating SXSW. I didn’t get to check out nearly as many as I would have liked, which meant not enough dancing to balance out standing around and watching shows. DJ Jaycee‘s set at the Two Sevens Clash really stuck out for me. I missed DJ Nu-Mark, who was superb from what I heard. But ATL’s own Jaycee told a seamless and funky story with the contents of his 45 case. Very classy, and also my first time seeing him spin.

Also notable was witnessing Cousin Cole, Tameil and Tim Dolla demolish shit at the Baltimore Love Thing. I pretty much abandoned B-more Club once the hipsters latched onto it years ago but observing some masters put it down made me consider re-introducing club to my arsenal.

Other DJ nerd highlights included DJ Yoda‘s live video mixing showcase…

DJ Yoda “Stop Look & Listen” from DJ Yoda on Vimeo.

…and a couple demos from DJ Big Wiz at the Serato booth. Learned a lot very quickly about The Bridge, Video-SL and adding MIDI controllers to your rig from a cat whose chops I’ve been studying for a number of years. I’m proud of myself for not shoplifting that SL4.

As for my actual SXSW gig, it started out slowly with the Sol Power All-Stars rocking to a scarce but appreciative group of early birds, and ended with Nadastrom on some punk rock shit throwing beer, breaking things and setting off mosh pits. In between I was most impressed by DJ Sabo and Toy Selectah. Definitely looking forward to rocking with all those dudes again.

Wrote about it.

In concert: Black Milk at U Street Music Hall – Washington Post Click Track blog

Seems like a fitting time to share a rare joint I often reach for when on my Kokayi stannery soapbox.

This live recording of Joni Mitchell’s “Free Man In Paris” features Vinia Mojica and Kokayi, when the latter was touring and recording with Andy Milne.

Yes, that Vinia. The “Saturdays/Verses From the Abstract/Climb” Vinia. The original Native Tongue vocal sweetheart Vinia.

*sigh*

*swoon*

Koke did an album for her that never saw the light of day. I wish I could have caught those rare gigs they did together.

Oh well.

And now, the O.G., because it’s amazeballs. Word to Jaco Pastorius.

Re: Phife’s breakdown, it made me emotional to think about some dudes not even out of their teens going on to have such a huge impact on music and on so many lives, like mine.

In the pantheon of popular music, it’s common for groups to reach amazing heights then develop so much internal rancor that they could come to blows, yet still have love for each other, or at least be able to still work together. As messy as the inside view of them must be based on reviews I’ve read, it’s nothing we haven’t seen before. Check Fleetwood Mac for a serious beef/longevity cycle.

I can also understand Tip as the tortured artist, as cliché as that sounds. It’s easy to develop a myopic view of how you’re perceived when you live in your head all the time, and it’s a weird place that great art springs out of as a side effect. I bet for all he’s accomplished, he might have a loud little hater that won’t shut up, like so many of us creatives.

Ultimately though… Phife’s mom. Can’t beat that wisdom.

“You better go and enjoy this, because it’s something that doesn’t happen every day. It’s a movie about your guys’ life and your music and your legacy. The least you could do is enjoy it.”

The world loves these guys and they worked hard for it. I wish they’d smell their flowers while they still can. I bet Phife’s flirtation with death influences his perspective.

A bourgie around-the-way girl intellectual friend who retains a taste for the ‘hood and overthinks music as much as I do passed on an essay deconstructing the popularity of Rick Ross’ “B.M.F. (Blowing Money Fast)” among those who should know better. “But it’s just good, ignorant Negroidian fun,” my friend countered. I can relate, as I’m prone to enjoy a brilliant robbery anthem from time to time, even though I’m no fan of actual robberies. Then I came across an amusing B.M.F. YouTube spoof.

The only thing the original and the parody have in common is they underscored how puzzled I am about the song’s huge appeal.

Yes, I know that you know that I’m no Rozay fan. But in order to slow my descent into fogey-dom, I did give Teflon Don a thorough listen after patently ignoring Rawse’s entire ascent to the top of the rap game. And you know what? There are actually some certified joints. B.M.F. just isn’t one of them.

“Super High” is textbook drop-top music that sounds like DJ Quik at the top of his powers with Dr. Dre‘s Chronic era session personnel. “No. 1″ is what club bangers used to be before the term was rendered toothless by snap music’s anemic spawn. “Maybach Music 3″ is sweepingly cinematic and “Free Mason” displays some conceptual flair. There is occasional decent rapping to be found in all of these songs.

But B.M.F? A tedious dirge at best. The cheesy orchestral synth patch and 808 combo is little more than a tortured droning, but the trend shows no sign of stopping. The verses bore after one rotation. And frankly, after 20 years of rappers adopting the names of every gangster and despot from Pablo Escobar to The Taliban and even Al Qaeda, I think the super criminal nickname swag can be laid to rest.

And the tempo? Can hip-hop get any slower in the 21st century? We’ll have to start measuring it not in BPM’s (beats per minute) but in SPB’s (syllables per bar). I think B.M.F. may average a good 12 SPB at most. Bamma might as well just be doing spoken word. More importantly, how the fuck do you dance to this shit? Would dougie-ing be appropriate?

Maybe I’m just old and don’t understand modern conspicuous consumption, fantasy rap. The simplest explanation is usually the most likely, even though I still love me some conspicuous consumption, fantasy rap.

Inspired by a recent check-in on the folks over at Can You Play That One Song, I’ve finally decided to share a few of the missives that patrons have handed to me that didn’t end up jettisoned back at their foreheads in a wadded up ball.

As far as irksome behaviors go, letter writing is far less problematic then singing at me, yelling out track numbers or waving a cell phone in my face. It still exposes some curious thought patterns that we can begin exploring in this space. There are so many layered assumptions and entitlement issues. Let us begin.

Is this chronological or priority order? I guess they were doing me a favor by giving me some options to choose from and opening with a polite salutation. I could have made their heads explode if I played a mash-up of all of these. I’m sure one exists.

A humble approach and a quality pick? Rare indeed so take heed on how NOT to make me hate you.

I’m clearly not hip enough to know what this is. This person was clearly pleased with themselves.

I have no idea what this even means. I’m going to assume the emoticon represents sarcasm.

This must have had no other purpose than to elicit a chuckle. Well played.

I saved the best for last. I love the exaggerated greeting that attempts to mitigate the retardery of what follows. I don’t know who’s going around telling folks that DJs really care about your birthday but you might want to let that one go, unless you’re cutting checks. And there will never be Drake’s “Fancy” at an underground classics party that I’M playing. Not even if a tiddy pops out of your leopard print.

Stay tuned for more of these to come…

Party people of good taste and mature bearing, this is really important.

There are douchebags among us. (I can hear a chorus of “No shit!” echoing through cyberspace)

You know who I’m talking about:

- They can’t hold their liquor (literally and figuratively).
- They wear sunglasses in the club.
- They can’t dance without violating all western norms of personal space.
- They badger and often insult the DJ with inane requests.
- They think they can command the DJ because it’s their birthday, they’re wearing a maiden douche-crown (aka “bachelorette veil”) or got their tiddies out.
- They have an urban safari mentality regarding hot spots. They’re scared to go to these places until the folk invested in the scene have turned them into something with a buzz then they drive from far away to overrun these places on weekends.
- They won’t dance to anything that’s not on the radio… at least until they’re drunk.

[can you spot the douches?]

What I’m telling you is… we need these people. They are an important part of the social ecosystem.

Well, I need these people. And other DJs like myself need them.

There are some DJs that play in a different league. They can play deep, progressive, creative music without catering to popular trends. Huge crowds of people will come see them, they never have to compromise and they get paid well. These are your Rich Medinas, your Louie Vegas, your DJ Spinnas, etc.

I’m not one of those DJs and most of your favorite local music obsessives that rock your bodies on a regular basis are not either. We are blue collar and we are in the trenches. We have pro skills but varying paydays. We’ve paid dues for years, even decades. We do this for the love of music and sharing it with others. We do not have the luxury of always having a full room of like-minded folk who trust us 100% to be the artists that we are.

So why do we need douchebags? Because they spend money. They spend lots of money. This is what club owners care about. This helps us get paid, or at least get more gigs and stay off the ho stroll.

[these bammas are probably also douchebags. two related concepts.]

And frankly, with the exception of a core group of you whom I love dearly (you know who you are), a lot of you with progressive tastes are fickle. You don’t buy drinks. You don’t buy music. You’re always texting someone to get on a list. If we haven’t hung out and kicked it or at least spoken, then I don’t hear from you until I have a major gig, you know you’re going straight to voicemail with that “so what’s up with guestlist?” madness. I will not call you back. Now you don’t have to ask why. Some of you do this while I’m in the middle of dj’ing. You are not helping the cause.

But for the rest of you, the people that inspire me to rock with finesse and who are steadfast in your support of real DJs, I need you to increase your douchebag tolerance. I KNOW this is a lot to ask, but it should be easier when you consider the mathematical and psychological aspects.

Douchebags are followers. Some desperately want to NOT be douchebags, at least subconsciously. These precious few can be saved! Some of them just don’t know any better. They’re compelled to follow the social cues of cool folk, but this only works when the MATH is right. If the douchebags greatly outnumber non-douches, they run amok. They’ll step on your feet and spill beer everywhere while doing the limbo in the middle of the club. They’ll come up behind the ladies and grind on their behinds without introducing themselves first. But in my scientific observations, it only takes 1/4 to 1/3 of a room’s population to be composed of cool folk in order for the energy to shift in our favor.

When there’s a nucleus of people on the dancefloor who dance well and express excitement and knowledge about the music being played, others naturally gravitate to them. The socially afflicted want to be part of the “in” crowd. They want to have as much fun as the cool people are having. This is what we call the “Party People In a Can” science. Use this to your advantage. It would help me out a lot, otherwise I’m stuck playing shit songs to drunk assholes until 3 a.m.

I’d like to get paid AND enjoy playing music. I’d like to have more opportunities to play good music for you in nice spaces. Until I can break through the popularity barrier, we must tolerate douchebags for this to happen.

Hard drive failure.

Laptop failure.

Theft.

Ever happened to you right before a gig?

Just a few short years ago it wasn’t uncommon to lose record boxes on flights. That’s a soul killing ordeal. Remember those check-in battles to carry your vinyl as a carry-on? Remember when you’d lose that battle and damn near have a heart attack waiting for your flight case to emerge at baggage claim? Now that most of us are partially or all digital, the convenience of our current tools sometimes makes us forget that tragedy can still strike.

I’ve read that A-Trak tours with two laptops. That isn’t practical for me, but I do have my music drive mirrored on an external that I bring to every gig.

But what if my laptop AND external drive fail? What if your main AND backup laptop get swiped?

Actually, before you proceed, you MUST read A-Trak’s account of one of the most confounding EPIC FAILS that any DJ could suffer, including a stack of dead Lacie drives. I hope no one is still under that illusion that Mac users are immune to this sort of suffering.

I don’t tour as much as many of my peers, but if I did, I’d look into online backup services. Imagine being on the other side of the world and your whole gig bag gets stolen. You can download a full clone of your hard drive onto a new machine and be up and running again quickly.

DJ Tech Tools has a nice roundup of these services with a helpful summary of all their features.

The comments in that article are even more informative. There are many different approaches to emergency proofing your data.

Of course, we all have multiple backups at home, right? RIGHT?!? They’re just no good to you on the road in an emergency.

What disaster avoidance schemes do you all have? There’s no way that any of us should have our asses hanging in the wind due to computer failure. We just have to prepare in advance and not be lazy.

I played back-to-back classic hip-hop parties this past weekend. I teamed up with two of my favorite DJ colleagues in DC, we had a blast and smashed on both nights but the crowds couldn’t have been more different. One crowd was full of serious heads who got more excited the deeper we went in the mix. The other crowd was more diverse, significantly younger, and only really moved by the same hits that everyone knows. One party-goer described my set from that night as “hybrid house jazzy hip hop.” Pete Rock in particular got a thumbs down and I double-checked the track list for house music but couldn’t find any.

I was reminded that when it comes to hip-hop these days, most people have no idea what the fuck they’re talking about.

Not exactly breaking news, I know.

When I was younger and wore hip-hop like a shield of identity, I’d be quick to check you on hip-hop dogma, then I’d strike a b-boy pose. Now that I’m getting older, I’ve started to feel like something was wrong with me. Like I’m the fuddy-duddy who refuses to change with the times. Talking to folks, reading these websites and being in the DJ booth trenches with my comrades are making me realize it’s not me.

This isn’t about people showing up to The Main Ingredient and requesting Gucci Mane with a straight face. The folks in that alternate dimension who think the world revolves around “swag”, tattoos and Patron are a separate discussion and might as well be on another planet. I’m talking about the folks who ride for hip-hop as hard as I used to, except their zeal is fueled by ignorance.

Hip-hop raised me and molded me but on my journey as a DJ and creative soul, I’m always adding new sounds, styles and genres to my portfolio of experience. Ultimately I’m a music person. I always seek to paint from an ever widening palette whether I’m spinning records or making them. I no longer identify myself as hip-hop, pretty much because no matter what I do, it’ll always BE hip-hop. It’s a lens that shapes my perception outside of my conscious awareness. It’s my internal rhythm. It’s not something that I have to proclaim or debate. It’s something I’ve lived so long that it’s like breathing, yet it’s still one dimension among many that I can access when expressing myself musically.

You don’t have to have the same experience in order to love hip-hop. You don’t have to spend 20 years and tens of thousands of dollars collecting records. You don’t have make a pilgrimage to the Bronx or perfect a six-step. I understand being zealous about hip-hop. The difference between my experience and what I’m seeing today is the lack of humility about what you DON’T know.

For instance. I love jazz. I started learning about it in high school. I’ve been to a lot of shows and collected a lot of music. I’ve even performed with jazz musicians. But I’d never critique an expert jazz musician without knowing what I was talking about backwards and forwards. So out of all the assholes that regularly give us grief in the DJ booth, why are the most rabid ones almost always on some hip-hop related bullshit?

These days people have a surface grasp of hip-hop combined with a warped sense of entitlement. And there’s a significant thirst for validation involved too. I don’t know if it’s really about the music or the times we live in. The latter is influential, because there seems to be a correlation between talking loud and saying nothing about hip-hop and the ease with which people feel comfortable spouting off on the internet. But I focus on the music because that’s where I’m most engaged.

What is it about hip-hop makes those with the least to say speak loudest? Why are you too lazy to care about anything beyond the same 20 records that we’ve caning to death for 20 years? Maybe it’s because no one listens to albums anymore. I thought I no longer cared but it still gets to me sometimes.

A little over a week ago I checked out Wanda Sykes filming her new HBO special at Warner Theatre. Other than nearly laughing myself into urinary incontinence, I was struck by the strong parallels between the crafts of dj’ing and standup.

My observations:

Timing

This is the defining skill of every good comic. The difference between a huge laugh and the sound of crickets can be measured in micro-beats. And so it is with the DJ. Drop a record a hair’s breadth off of the “one” and your dancefloor hiccups (at best) or you lose all of your momentum and everyone stops to stare at you (at worst). Nail the right transition on beat and everyone goes apeshit.

Narrative, flow and pacing

A comic’s jokes are like characters in a story. Sometimes those jokes are mini tales of their own that are woven together into a grand narrative by linking together common strands. A real DJ always tells a story on the decks. You should be able to follow a narrative that includes setting, plot twists and climaxes. Individual songs become building blocks in a discernible audio journey with all the characteristics of a well written novel.

The role of the opener

A night at a show or on the dancefloor follows an energy arc with a beginning, middle and end. A comic or DJ opening for a headliner is tasked with getting the room warmed up and prepped for peak time energy. Go too hard and the crowd will run out of steam prematurely. Don’t come with it and the crowd sees you as the enemy delaying them from enjoying the headliner. Strike the right balance and everyone wins, especially the opener who earns new fans and more gigs.

The tightrope walk

It’s sooo easy to go from killing to being killed. The crowd loves you until they hate you, although comics have more leeway to dispatch hecklers. The flipside is that it all comes together when the dj/comic builds a relationship with the audience. There’s a tipping point in the evening where trust is established. Once that point is reached, the comic or the dj can really go in, which builds more good vibes in the crowd, and a feedback loop of positive energy is created.

You’re all alone

It’s just you on stage with a microphone, just as the dj commands the decks alone. Some dj booths are set further away from the dancefloor so you’re less accessible but still, all eyes are on you. It’s a position that’s simultaneously powerful and precarious. When you as one individual can command a whole room, club, hall or arena’s emotions, it’s a unique rush that you can’t stop chasing once you’ve experienced it.

Stay tuned for other installments in this series such as:

DJ’ing is like video editing.
DJ’ing is like distance running.
DJ’ing is like sex.
DJ’ing is like being RNC chairman Michael Steele (bad nights can be really bad.)

I don’t yet have the words but my virtual and real worlds are populated with those who speak for me.

Michael Jackson And The Five Stages of Grief – Thembi

My Hero Ain’t Molest Them Bitch Ass Kids: Phonte’s teary-eyed tribute to The King – Phonte Coleman

For Michael – Bassey Ikpi

In Memoriam Part 2: Michael Jackson – Long Live The King – Scorpeze of Windimoto

MJ R.I.P. – Hua Hsu, The Atlantic

Gone Too Soon – nOva, SoulBounce.com

I Can’t Help It – Harlem, SoulBounce.com

We Love You, Michael, Always. – Ill Mami, SoulBounce.com

All I could do yesterday when I finally broke away from the Twitter wake was head to the designated gathering spot for times when things of black import go down (U Street) and try to process with friends.

Shortly after, the real obsession began. I greeted the sun this morning without sleep, having spent the entire night whipping my Michael Jackson discography into shape. I did the same for James Brown, for Dilla. As we are essentially musical evangelists, it’s a DJ’s sacred duty in times like these to canonize our musical heroes output and feed it back to the faithful in a way that maximizes the boost to the spirit.

We’re going to be ministering to the flock for a long time on this one. Please do it with verve, creativity and an avoidance of cliche. So many of our icons are plagued by personal demons, the way to balance it out is to expose as much of the beauty as possible. And since Michael’s catalog is so deep, there’s epic beauty beyond the obvious hits.

I’ll have to return to this, it’s just too much to absorb now. Download these, then holla at me and the homie Jahsonic at Marvin on Monday.

6/25/09 – Soul Controllers & LSP remember the King of Pop on Decipher
(89.3 FM WPFW, Washington DC)

As soon as the first stanktastic bar kicked in, I bugged, and not just because Dante was rhyming like Ali hitting the speed bag in his prime. This bamma pulled a Ghostface and straight rhymed over a whole existing song! One of my favorite songs by a group I first got hip to on my trip to Brazil last year. Vinyl heads on the internets were already on the case, digging up the original Banda Black Rio joint for comparison.

I would have known about this if I actually went to Mos Def shows because he’s been rocking this joint live for like the past five months. At this point, I wouldn’t be mad if he did a whole album rhyming over funky, contrapuntal jazz fusion classics. Some Return to Forever maybe? Weather Report? Head Hunters! Let’s go!

But before I get carried away, let’s take a moment to trace the origins of a tune that Mos also discovered (and kirked out over) on a trip to Brazil.

“Casa Forte” was originally written and recorded by Edú Lobo for his North American debut Sergio Mendes Presents Edú Lobo. Lobo was already pushing the development of Musica Popular Brasileira after building on the work of Jobim and Gilberto but despite his important contributions to bossa nova, his acoustic rendering of “Casa Forte” takes a back seat to the many cover versions of what is now a standard.

A few of my favorites:

Sergio Mendes gives it a pretty straight interpretation, but with the trademark vocal style of Brasil ’66. (listen / buy)

Legendary vocalist Flora Purim‘s take is less pretty and a bit psychedelic. She gives the tune a wild edge. (listen / buy)

Ellis Regina lends a slightly mournful feel to her version and her rhythm section sounds like they’d also been playing some bop over the course of the recording session. (listen / buy)

Madlib teamed up with original Azymuth drummer Ivan “Mamão” Conti for the Jackson Conti project. Their rendition of “Casa Forte” puts the samba percussion up front and features what sounds like a melodica running through a wah pedal carrying the main melody of the tune. Probably Madlib’s idea. While he was high. Loving the keyboard work on this. (listen / buy)

And finally, DMV beat scientist Nick Tha 1da snuck in a version of “Casa Forte” on his Bossa Bang! mixtape last year. Since it’s a seamless combination of vinyl finds and re-worked productions, I’ve had the damnedest time ID’ing the origin*. Maybe I’ll ask him next time I see him. I ain’t too proud to train-spot. Click the cover above to download the whole project.

Update:
*Nick came through! Crate-diggers never reveal their secrets, but I guess he was feeling generous that day. Dig up a copy of this record and you’ll find another unique Casa Forte to add to your collection.

The title quote comes from a pretty ill interview with Roctakon over at the Turntable Lab blog. Reading it got me reflecting on the choices I’ve made in my DJ career, the state of the art of dj’ing and the environments and markets in which we practice this craft.

But first, some back story.

I remember Roctakon from the ’90s in DC, when he was working at 12-Inch Dance Records, battling with the O.G. Goonies crew and dropping mix cd’s. All of us had tight backpack straps and lived to juggle doubles of pretty much anything that was recorded in D&D Studios. Dirty Hands was still DJ Static, The Trooperz were repping in DMC battles at the old Black Cat and State of the Union was in its prime. Eventually Rocktakon moved on to Turntable Lab in NYC, downplayed the scratch nerdery and started building his name on the club circuit. Turntable Lab got its weight up as a brand and business and started transitioning from its turntablism niche into a driver of hipster DJ culture.

I was also expanding beyond my purely underground hip-hop background but in a different direction – away from the popular trends towards deeper soul, house, electronica, funk, world music and the like. I gave up my big room mainstream club aspirations as other peers of mine dominated that lane just as the music was becoming increasingly unbearable.

So considering that I come from the same scene (that now feels like centuries ago) but went in an entirely different and non-lucrative direction, Roctakon’s screed is a pretty fascinating assessment of a world that I don’t really encounter but check in on occasionally.

It’s stuff that I know but I’m not living day to day.

On the worst place to dj:

I’d say the current manifestation of bottle service clubs in NY is one of the worst scenes ever. I mean its dead but nobody will admit it, they just try and keep it going, its like going to dj a funeral, but nobody will look at the body. 1Oak will stay around and so will the B&T spots but the rest of ny bottle service will die in the next year or so and i say good riddance.

On life as a touring club dj:

Its lowest common denominator shit like you just end up playing Move Bitch and Party Up by DMX its miserable..

Yea some football player counted 9 hundred dollar bills onto my laptop cause i was not playing the Plies song he wanted quick enough…

This is a popularity contest and don’t forget it. being nice and kissing ass and knowing the right people and being likeable…

Dude might be experiencing burnout, and I’d counter some of his assertions that creativity doesn’t matter in the commercial world with examples of really skilled and technical cats that can rock for the boo-boo heads, but… he’s dropping mad nuggets of truthiness in this jont.

I want to talk about gain control today. Because it’s really out of control.

As DJ’s, we’ve spent hours, weeks and years honing the various aspects of our craft: mixing, scratching, blending, programming a set, reading a room, digging for new sounds, mastering various types of equipment, learning about different genres of music…

But truthfully, most of us fail at monitoring and maintaining optimal sound levels. It’s the one aspect of the craft that has been completely abandoned and I’m aggravated about it.

If you’re not wearing earplugs at any show or nightclub these days, you’re in for a brutal assault. A few years ago, I started leaving a set of earplugs in every bag that I use. My regular day bag, my dj bag(s), travel bags. With the type of schedule I keep, I never know when I might end up at a party, a show or a session, and I ALWAYS have to be prepared with plugs.

With most DJ’s these days, if you take a look at their mixer at peak time, the meters are slammed in the red, their gain knobs are maxed and their master volume knob might be topped out too.

Red means “Turn the volume down, you asshole!”

If there isn’t any dynamic processing in the signal chain, at best the music will sound horribly distorted. If there are compressors and limiters and they aren’t set right and/or you’re pushing them too hard, you’ll get that irksome pumping sound. At worst you’ll blow a speaker or two, or all.

Then you have people on the dance floor looking like this:

[photo: addicted2salsa.com]

These people are not enjoying themselves.

Understandably, many sound systems are poorly set up and maintained. They make it difficult to pump the music so people feel it in their chests and asses, but aren’t being assaulted. Note that I said “difficult” not “impossible”. Our own judgement and attention to detail are the best tools for creating an optimal experience for the folks on our dance floors.

- EQ your tracks as you play them.
Cut those shrieking mids or that rumbling sub-bass. You’ll often find that perceived loudness increases with clarity as opposed to simply cranking it up.

- Start your set with optimal gain levels.
This might seem so basic but it’s so misunderstood. Unity gain is generally marked on most volume controls as the 0 (zero) level. That means that the signal coming into the channel is the same level as the signal going out. YOUR JOB IS TO MAINTAIN UNITY GAIN ALL NIGHT. You should set your master and the front end processing (if you can access those controls) to allow you some headroom over the course of the night, but you should NOT use your individual channel gains for overall volume control.

Gain creep is a fact of life for the DJ. Over the course of a gig, the amount of distractions grows, the energy in the room increases, the noise floor increases as more people pack into the space, and one must compensate. But rarely is this done with any sort of specificity. For far too many DJ’s, louder is always better.

- Walk the room.
I regularly leave the turntables to assess the volume levels. Some folks find this odd. (“What are you doing out of the dj booth?!?”) If it’s a room I’ve never played before, I do this a lot. Few of us have the opportunity to always play clubs with optimal DJ booth monitoring, so it’s almost a given that the sound in the booth will differ drastically from the sound on the floor. YOU MUST ALWAYS BE AWARE OF WHAT YOUR DANCE FLOOR SOUNDS LIKE.

Please, all of you. You’re killing folks out there. People going home from parties with migraines and ringing ears. Sound systems being blown. Records sounding like crap because of distortion. We all want our parties to crank, but ultimately Bob Marley knew the way things should be:

“One good thing about music, when it hits you feel no pain.” (Trenchtown Rock)

I’ve been back for a while so I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I’m not going to get around to detailing all the historical, cultural and social experiences I had in Bahia. This weekend I carved out some time to hit a pile of not yet listened to vinyl so I can at least post the digging wrap-up of my trip (with covers, since that’s a big part of the fun.)

Unfortunately, the holy grail remains outside of my grasp, even though I did visit their hometown. I saw a couple of vinyl copies that cats were not trying to part with and it’s been out of print forever. I’ll probably have to find a questionable Japanese bootleg or something.

I didn’t have much room to bring stuff back to the U.S. so I kept my aspirations low. I scouted out four spots and managed to hit three of them. One of them had massive stock but everything was too beat to be worth buying. Record condition was a recurring problem that I had been warned about.

Right around the corner is another spot I highly recommend to anyone traveling in Salvador. Cana Brava is all CD so it caters to you normal folks that don’t share the wax addiction. Pardal runs the store with his wife and he’s very helpful and knowledgeable. We ended up talking music for so long that I almost forgot to shop. But on impulse I came away with…

Banda Black Rio – Gafieira Universal (CD) [Basically the Brazilian Earth, Wind & Fire. I saw the afros and the disc pretty much jumped off the shelf into my hand. My hunch was rewarded by not a single fast-forwardable track on the whole record. Word to reissues. They've got four other albums that you can find with some due diligence.]

The main transaction went down in this random closet of a store in Barra. The mission posed several challenges. I had to whittle down a huge stack to a handful of critical purchases while dealing with a language barrier, no turntable to screen the records and large holes in my knowledge about the artists.

Then I had to haggle. I was somewhat concerned that I might have been hustled but my gut told me that the proprietor was a serious music head who recognized a kindred spirit. As I dug and asked questions in infant level Portuguese, he went deep into the stacks pulling more stuff and explaining it to me. I definitely paid more than the pieces would be worth in the U.S. but I haggled him down by a significant amount, had fun and most importantly, learned a lot in the process. That’s worth a few reais. Here’s the haul:

Egberto Gismonti – Corações Futuristas (LP) [Fusion bordering on free jazz. Definitely bugged out. I asked for something like Chick Corea and Azymuth and this was the recommendation. Apparently out of print and not often seen stateside.]

Miucha & Antonio Carlos Jobim (LP) [Sweet bossa jazz that's been reissued on CD.]

Olodum – A Música Do Olodum Banda Reggae (LP) [The sound of Salvador and an organization for community activism as well as partying. They even reminded Mike that he's black welcomed MJ with open arms.]

Cesar Camargo Mariano, Victor Assis Brasil, Helio Delmiro – Performance (LP) [Electric jazz cats I'd never seen or heard of. Quite luscious with killer guitar action. This is going to yield some juicy beat fodder. I think I made a come-up.]

Zezé Motta – Dengo (LP) [Lightly funky post-'70s tropicalia with pop accents from this major brazilian actress who also had a singing career.]

Elis Regina – Elis (LP) [If you're ever at a loss for a place to start exploring Brazilian music, you can't go wrong with Pimentinha. Her tone and phrasing are unforgettable]

MPB-4 – Antologia (LP) [This is a 1974 compilation of MPB (otherwise known as Música Popular Brasileira) and it's quite a goldmine. It sounds like an in-house vocal group at the record label doing medleys of the works of significant composers but I have to study up more to get the back story.]

Andre Harris – “10 Things Not To Say To A DJ”

I mean, how is it that stupid people ALL OVER THE WORLD all end up reading from the same script when they decide they want to inflict psychic pain on you while you’re trying to rock the party?

I’ve built upon this with scores of my DJ colleagues and the uniformity of the stories is fascinating. Someone has to do a psychological study on it. I’ve collected tons of data first hand over the years. Is there some shared genetic defect in stupid people that is triggered by a nightclub environment? Does that have to do with the fact that stupid people are statistically more likely to go out to certain clubs? It’s like a perverse feedback loop of causality. Do they all get together in a huddle before they come to the club to maximize the annoyance factor of their strategy? Perhaps it’s a conspiracy waged by an international cabal of stupid people with the shared goal of driving all DJs into early retirement.

The one that makes me want to beat myself in the forehead with a ball peen hammer is:

“Everyone wants to hear it.”

AAAAGGGGGGGGGGHHHH!!!!

I’ve actually asked folks if they really polled the whole club to arrive at this assertion, just like in the song. Things usually go downhill from there.

I’ve grown pretty heartless over the last couple of years. My patience has been worn away to a cold, hard steely sheen, especially because there’s something about DJs that make people want to heap abuse on us in ways they would never dare in any other aspect of human interaction. Folks consistently say things to me that would automatically earn them a punch in the mouth if I weren’t behind the decks. Of course, I can’t do that, even if it’s warranted.

But woe unto the clubtards that approach me these days because I don’t hesitate to dispense liberal doses of non-violent face crack. And it doesn’t matter how fat your ass is and how much cleavage you jiggle in front of me. That will actually make me more likely to hurt your feelings. It’s funny to observe the strain on the faces of attractive women who can’t process the idea of a heterosexual man telling them no. Actually, that applies mostly to an environment where the primary goal of every man is to catch their attention.

Despite the effective coping mechanisms I’ve developed, I’m looking forward to sharing this song in a set. Thanks Andre.

UPDATE: Transcription! With notes!

10 things not to say to a DJ

1. PLAY SOMETHING GOOD…SOMETHING WE CAN DANCE TO! First of all, the DJ has to play for more than one person…so, what you may hate may be another’s favorite song EVERYTHING played here can be danced to one way or another.
(Stylus: How the hell do I know what YOU can dance to? I don’t know YOU like that. The companion to this one is “play something we know.” WTF?!!!!??? *facepalm*)

2. WOULD YOU PLAY SOMETHING WITH A BEAT? NOW COME ON LET’S BE SERIOUS! We know of NO song that is played in a club that don’t have some type of a beat!

3. I DON’T KNOW WHO SINGS IT AND I DON’T KNOW THE NAME OF THE SONG, BUT IT GOES LIKE THIS. Please Please Please Please don’t sing for the DJ! They have to put up with smoke-filled rooms and dangerous decibel levels all night. Do them a favor and DON’T give them a rendition of your favorite song.

4. EVERYBODY WANTS TO HEAR IT! Oh sure, I’m sure you went though the club and polled EVERYONE and now they sent you as their spokesperson, to request their favorite song. What ever get out of here…

5. I CAN GET LAID IF YOU PLAY IT! If you are GOOD ENOUGH, you can get laid to anything!! If you need ME to play a song for YOU to get laid, then you’ve got serious problems.

6. I WANT TO HEAR IT NEXT! The only people who can get away with that statement are the people that write the DJ’s paycheck! Plus more often than not, the DJ already has the next song already cued up and ready to go to the decks, we do not have time to look for your favorite song.

7. I DON’T KNOW WHAT I WANNA HEAR…WHAT DO YOU HAVE? It’s a lot easier for you to go have another beer and figure out what it is you want to hear than it is for me to recite and name EVERY record I Have with me in the booth right now. Also don’t ask for a song list! I don’t know of any DJ that has an actual printed list of every song with them in the booth so like I said go get a beer hit the dance floor back up the bar.

8. HEY YO, NOBODY CAN DANCE TO THIS! It is not advisable to say this when the dance floor is packed (but, some people do anyway)! However, even if there is only ONE person on the floor, it STILL contradicts this statement. You’re just being rude. Have an open mind about music and go dance or just sit down.

9. EVERYBODY WILL DANCE TO IT IF YOU PLAY IT! Half the time I hear this, no-one goes to the dance floor except for the person that asked for it, and when they realize they’re the only one that wanted to dance to it, they bail off the dance floor. If you ask the DJ for a dance song and don’t dance to it, expect the DJ to ignore your requests for the rest of the night.
(Stylus: It’s not half the time. More like 100%. And I will call you out on the mic and note that “this bamma bothered me to play this song and no one wants to dance to it.”)

10. MOST IMPORTANTLY! If you’re at a club or an event that doesn’t play any hip-hop, don’t ask the DJ do you have any hip-hop? Just go outside to your car and turn on the radio or go home and watch MTV!
(Stylus: This is one of the worst and most common ones. Did you not know what club you were going to before you arrived?)

In my preparations so far, I’ve only begun to scratch the surface of the rich musical heritage of Bahia, but I’ve already got a prize to track down when I get off the plane. I was clicking about on this very informative site and caught a clip of a vocal trio that hit me with the same feeling I had when I was 13 and heard Take 6 for the first time. And after years of their records being incredibly rare, there are reissues floating around now.

The group’s namesake is a a bird native to the region and still being a pan-africanist at heart, I can’t help but draw a comparison to another legendary singing group named after an iconic bird.

I have a feeling I’m going to be connecting dots like this the whole time I’m down there.

The last surviving Tincoã Mateus Aleliua is still active and still infuses his work with the candomblé influence that he brought to the group. Please don’t leave this site without listening to Os Tincoãs sang the heaven out of “Lamento às Águas” in the player below.

[courtesy of www.bahia-online.net]

I get chills thinking about what Dilla could have done with that.

And to close, a Mateus Aleliua cameo with Margareth Menezes for a live medley of “Cordeiro de Nanã”, “Deixa a Gira Girar” and “Atabaque Chora”.

Black sho’ ’nuff don’t crack. Lawd.

After funneling huge chunks of my income to Dusty Groove for years, I finally had a chance to visit them in person. I’ve been to bigger spots and have had transcendent digging experiences elsewhere but I’ve not had a more significant, extended relationship with any shop outside of DC than Dusty Groove. They put an enormous amount of care into their stock and that discerning hand is prominently reflected in my collection. For this trip, I had to really blind myself to the beckoning shelves of enticing re-issues and left field jazz and soul bits from around the world. I could order all that stuff online from them like I usually do. If I was going to be there in person I had to focus on things that I’d miss if I weren’t putting my fingers through the bins. And I also had to grab a few instant gratification joints that I might not see again for a while.

IG Culture presents Zen Badizm (CD) [Another one that I had to find out about from Jahsonic.]

Beady Belle – Belvedere (CD) [This group CAN DO NO WRONG with me. I've been a stan since 2001 and they're completely incapable of making anything that isn't stunning. What I love about them is that every album is a unique experience that touches different styles from the others. You really never know what you're going to hear every time they drop a new record. Most of my favorite artists share this same characteristic. So many fans want their favorite groups to re-hash the stuff they love best. I prefer a gift-wrapped surprise package.]

D’Angelo – Live At the Jazz Cafe, London (CD) [More Japanese import action.]

Zo! & Tigallo – Love the 80′s EP (CD) [Y'all know what it is. And these joints are selling out everywhere too.]

Carmen McRae – You’re Lookin’ At Me: A Collection of Nat King Cole Songs (LP) [Sometimes they just jump out at you from the dollar bin.]

De La Soul – Buddy & Ghetto Thang (12″) [Don't see that picture cover too often. Might just frame this one for wall display]

Def Jef – Droppin’ Rhymes On Drums (12″) [Etta James + dancers in bleached denim + fast rap = mandatory vid embed]

K9 Posse – Ain’t Nothin’ To It (12″) [YESSS!!! I was on a hot streak. Word to Vernon.]

Phase N’ Rhythm – Swollen Pockets/Hook-N-Sling (12″) [I knew I could finish my odyssey at this point. I'd been looking for this for a long time. Wasn't cheap either, but worth it. It's out of print and I caught a promo. R.I.P. Paul C.!]

Eddie Kendricks – Goin’ Up In Smoke (LP)
Airto – The Essential… Airto featuring Flora Purim & Special Friends (LP) countdown to Brasil…
Levert – I Get Hot (LP) jheri curl fonk overload!!
David Ruffin – Everything’s Coming Up Love (LP)
Janet Jackson – Control (12″) with acapella!
Stacy Lattisaw – Sneakin’ Out (LP) personnel include Narada Michael Walden, Randy Jackson and Sheila E.
The Ramsey Lewis Trio – Upendo Ni Pamoja (LP)
Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam – Lost In Emotion (12″)
Edwin Starr – Contact/Don’t Waste Your Time (12″)
Paul and Linda McCartney – Ram (LP)

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

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.

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.

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.