Wow, it’s been two months since my last post. And all I have to offer is some links.

I have a Chris Rock interview is in this week’s Time Out New York. We talked about funerals, Pootie Tang and the infamous James Brown alien abduction episode of Miami Vice.

Speaking of outerspace, I caught up with Erykah Badu last month for this Time Out story, just a few days before she stripped down in front of the grassy knoll. I got to have a nice, laid-back, extra-casual conversation with her—in a dressing room at Jimmy Fallon—the full text of which you can read here. Read to the end for the dramatic conclusion.

Bronx dancehall dude Skerrit Bwoy recently turned up as a talking point on the Jimmy Kimmel Show, during a visit from Aziz Ansari. (Apparently, the two made fast friends). I first heard about Skerrit five or six years ago, back when he was better known as “Sponge Bob.” Now the face of Major Lazer and the international ambassador for daggering (surely, not an easy job), he’s having a bit of a moment. Figured I’d document it in this TONY profile.

I’ve been talking about TV One’s excellent music biography series Unsung for a while now. It’s one of my favorite shows so I was geeked to catch up with recent show subjects Stacy Lattisaw and Lester Troutman from Zapp for their take on the series in this Washington Post story.

Be back with some original content again soon.

Groove B Chill’s 1990 LP Starting From Zero makes for a decent time capsule, but it probably doesn’t make anyone’s list of important Golden Era LPs (despite contributions from prime-era Prince Paul and Pete Rock’s first production credits). Where the group—which consisted of future actor Daryl “Chill” Mitchell (then known as Chili Dog, currently starring in Fox’s Brothers); fellow rapper Eugene “Groove” Allen; and DJ Belal Miller—quietly put their stamp on history was with their proto-New Jack Swing turn on the pre-”Symphony” posse cut “Uptown Is Kickin’ It,” and the first truly commercially successful hip-hop movie, House Party. The Hudlin brothers based the Kid ‘N Play vehicle on real stories shared with them by Daryl and Belal, and all three members were given roles in the film they were originally meant to star in. As heard on this 1985 recording at Wyandanch High School, back when Rakim was still Kid Wizard, Belal—then Grandwizard BMC—was often in his corner, with Biz Markie in tow. (It’s worth noting here that the recent emergence of this recording online is a result of this conversation with Belal, who reminded me of its existence, and the homey Oxygen’s possession of it. Once again, respeck to Ox for the upload.) Currently, Belal can be heard every Monday night on Long Island on WUSB’s “Soul-Glo Bistro.”

JS: Tell me about your involvement with Rakim.
Belal: Before I started deejaying, back in ‘83, I used to be an MC in a crew called the Almighty 5 MCs. That was my first crew. But I couldn’t MC, really. I tried doing my little rhyming thing but they were so good. Rakim was in there. He had to have been about 13. I’m a few years older than him, and I was still in school. When I say he was a child prodigy, he was a child prodigy. Read the rest of this entry »

I went out and caught Tyson last week. I’ve anticipated this flick since I’d heard it was by James Toback, who cast Mike in this brilliant cameo in ’99’s Black and White, that Elijah Wood movie about privileged white teens who want to be down with Wu-Tang and the pretentious documentary filmmakers (Robert Downey Jr. and Brooke Shields) that follow them around. People hated that movie, but I loved it: I thought it captured an authentic slice of late ’90s NY, and indeed the white kids were based on Toback’s own experiences around Leonardo DiCaprio and his gangster rap-loving “pussy posse.” Legend has it that Tyson was unaware that Robert Downey Jr. was in character while filming their scene together, and his reaction to RDJ’s passes was authentic. Whether that’s true or not, his response—defensive and preemptive, followed by a display of rage that’s more about frustration then machismo—was a revealing glimpse into the side of him we see in Tyson.

I highly recommend Tyson, but I won’t go into a detailed breakdown or analysis here—you can read plenty of that elsewhere. I will point out that the film was scored by Salaam Remi, who also produced “Legendary (Mike Tyson),” an awkward audio biography by Nas (not unlike this) that plays during the closing credits. (Nas and Remi, along with Carmelo Anthony, are credited as producers). Read the rest of this entry »