Apologies for another post drought. Here’s links to some work I’ve published recently:

Review of Bronx hip-hop pioneer Disco Wiz’s autobiography, It’s Just Begun, in this week’s Time Out

Review of Cam’s Crime Pays in last week’s Time Out

Profile on Dam-Funk in the May issue of XLR8R

Q&A with U.K. Afro-club producers Radioclit in the May issue of XLR8R

Review of Tanya Morgan’s Brooklynati from May 7 issue of Time Out

Random travel article on New Haven, CT that I wrote for Time Out Read the rest of this entry »

R.I.P. King Floyd.

(Cam’s “Silky (No Homo)” starts 2:45 into this video, for “Cookies and Apple Juice”)

Read the rest of this entry »

1. I don’t work/No job/Redford/I go rob/Cream corn/No cob/ Boo hoo boo hoo/Go sob/That’s your Saab? Oh God. (”Silky [No Homo]”)

2. Your mama’s ass is fat/My n****s they call her Bertha/Once a week they might disturb her…Now she wiling like a baby/Yo maybe we’ll get her Gerber/Smacked her on the ass/Warm milk then we burped her. (”Chalupa”)

3. You a passer/Me I got a score-ish aura/Owe me money?/Your wife, son, daughter oughta/Leave the country/I’m thinking like…Bora Bora (”Where I Know You From”)

4. Full moon we got girls to moon us/No cuddling ma you wont spoon us/Don’t spit game/Just sell Rick James/Baby boy, my nickname is switch lanes/Slash thick chains/slash get brain/slash that/Slash make it rain/Slash tell a girl/Ma, get the Summer’s Eve/Know what’s in the dungarees? A hundred G’s. (”Homicide”)

5. Baby we’re the state patrol/With 50 pounds and I ain’t talking bout an 8-year-old. (”Chalupa”)

Review coming soon.

When people hear the term “hip-hop cops” today, they surely think of the never officially confirmed NYPD unit that’s always nailing big-time rap stars with weapons possession charges before or after scheduled appearances in Manhattan. Long before plainclothes officers were gathering dossiers on Fabolous, hip-hop had its own internal “cops.” The brainchild of one Chuck D., 5ive-O—a.k.a. “The Homicide Squad of Hip-Hop”—was a short-lived unit that donned police uniforms and, on ’94’s little heard If U R Not Part Uv Da Solution…, positioned themselves as baton-toting MC vigilantes fighting back against the gangster rap avalanche. Consisting of B-Wyze and Jim “Obie” O’Brien, both refugees from Professor Griff’s Last Asiatic Disciples; Aaron “Butch Cassidy” Allen, who had been the hypeman and “original Flavor Flav” in PE ancestor Spectrum City; and another PE affiliate who went by the name “Kevlar,” the group was a more developed iteration of The Interrogators, one of the groups on Terminator X’s Valley of the Jeep Beats.

As Chuck D. himself has told me on more than one occasion, his intent upon entering the hip-hop industry was to engineer a Motown-like hip-hop assembly line, and not to be the foreman of his own unit. Even after Public Enemy’s ascension into a world-altering force, he and Hank Shocklee continued to assemble groups like Young Black Teenagers, Leaders of the New School and Son of Bazerk. None of which were particularly successful, at least not in any fashion remotely resembling that of PE. (For the record, I consider LONS, one of my favorite ever groups, to be a great success. But they found that success after aligning with Native Tongues—a camp that proved to be far more adept at brand extension than Chuck and co.) Read the rest of this entry »

Dallas’ least favorite female lyricists

The Mavs fans/Mark Cuban vs. Nuggets family members saga might be the most fascinating off-court NBA playoff subplot since Chris Nieratko brought his “WILL SOMEBODY PLEASE STAB PAUL PIERCE?” sign to Continental Airlines Arena in ‘02. Perhaps Denver can get Mark Cuban and friends back by having Lala revive her aborted rap career alongside the Baddest Bitch at halftime of Game 5?

Apologies for the recent lapse in content creation. Quality stuff coming soon. This is slow blogging, y’all. Stuff takes time. It’s all about that local, organic and seasonal food to guarantee sustenance over the longer haul.

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 »