connecting*the*dots

Artist: Deltron 3030
Featuring: Del Tha Funkee Homosapian
Song: Love Story

==========

Yo yo yo, check this out man
1 for you, 2 for me
3 for you, 15 for me
20 for you… now check it out

Yo
I just won 10 grand in the Galactic
Rhyme Federation championship, so I’m lampin a bit
I feel like returnin to Earth and burnin some herb
I’m sick of lookin at the inside of space stations
Time for Deltron to take a vacation
My expertise in aviation got us to our destination (where?)
The East Bay
My living quarters is completely froze solid
I thaw it out with a heat ray
Now I’m chillin in a sauna, pulsating jet streams
Peeping out in virtual reality my wet dreams
Perusing my 21st century classic comics, the fun is astronomic
(ha ha ha) I figured since I’m here I’ll renew my galactic passport
So I’m not persecuted by no galactic assholes
Schemers on the ave
With their holographic hat-tricks
Using magnetism to pick-pocket citizens
Tourists walk around with memory apprehension glasses
They attempt to capture
The past tense
Virtual junkies, burnt out and lost
War veterans still trapped in the Holocaust

Yes I know all the answers
Living in my true love’s arms

I’m sittin on the porch readin Cosmopolitan
Peepin all these dumb hoes with enhanced collagen
I’m calling in sick today
Big mistake
This resulted in a final pay check and pink slip ?
Replaced by my successor cause I missed my place
Knowin that the Rhyme Federation will miss my face
(fuck y’all)
Referred to as a big disgrace
Now I’m free-lance with more risk to take
Now a rhymin merc, finding certified androids
Hit a convention, signin autographs for fan-boys
They admire
My enhanced stanzas
And how I dodge man-hunts
And security cameras
Avoided apprehension in sub-atomic dimensions
And even more impressive cause of what we livin
A self contained environment, I suggest I’m just a minor threat
I see a thing of beauty fly as heck, standing by her desk
Paid her my respects, I was too scared to try to step
So I deployed one of my androids with dialect
Synthesized with my voice perfectly replicated
Asked for her name, and was she married?
“No we’re separated”

*Booty*
Baby… baby you’re looking real fine…
Your behind, you got 3 booty cheeks…
That’s kind of unique for… for a ?
What say me and you hit the hot spot over at your house ?
I got a few sandwiches ? eaten
Yo it’s cool though, you got one eye ? trippin though
Listen you, me and you, we gon’ ?, we gon’ far, go all the way to Mars
Venus… we’ll go to Venus if you want to
Venus, Paris… ?

Yes I know all the answers
Living in my true love’s arms (2x)

I found this striking mural a few months back while knee deep in my late night Flickr ritual of browsing imagery by contextual navigation of topical tags. As the night wore on I drifted from tags like art to street art to graffiti, eventually resting on Malcolm X.

After staring at the shot for a few minutes, I realized why this particular image struck me — on two distinct levels:

• The mere existence of such a powerful representation of Malcolm X and his words embedded in the public square for all to see
• The absence of his complete representation, both physical and philosophical, due to elemental deterioration over time

In the real world — before the internet created another dimension for the documentation of expression and our collective histories — all atom based elements had a shelf life.

Street art, by it’s very nature, had even a shorter life span.

But here I was, stumbling across this deteriorating, real world representation, frozen in time (at what point in time I have no idea) by someone who made an explicit decision to digitize the real for the sake of posterity.

Without the internet, this work — this message — might have already drifted away from our consciousness.

Speaking of the message, only a few lines of Malcolm X’s quote remained legible in it’s original format. It seemed familiar to me, so I took a few moments to run a Google search of the words I could decipher.

Thanks to the collective participation of people publishing to the internet, within a matter of moments, I was able to piece together the original context of the quote from the mural:

“With every succeeding page, I also learned of people and places and events from history. Actually the dictionary is like a miniature encyclopedia. Finally the dictionary’s A section had filled a whole tablet — and I went on into the B’s. That was the way I started copying what eventually became the entire dictionary.”

Context is knowledge, so I circled back to the image and added the text that would have surrounded the original quote on the wall if the wall were 50 feet high.

The Internet On This Day

Eighty-two years ago today, Malcolm X was born Malcolm Little to Earl Little and Louise Helen in Omaha, Nebraska.

Depending on your company, Malcolm X is often remembered as either an inspiration — an educated, revolutionary, evolutionary force — or an extremist that preached hate.

Without the internet, the latter of these two descriptions could easily edify his legacy for future generations to come.

With the internet, we have context of evolution and truth:

The Early Years In The Nation Of Islam

Debating At Oxford University

Returning From Mecca

A New Direction, Seeing Death In The Distance

The Assassination Of Malcolm X

Paying Tribute

Living In His Footsteps

Our Collective Responsibility

Prior to the internet, the reality of our lives drifted into the annals of time and both the discrete and general narratives of history were crafted by those with the power to publish and distribute knowledge.

Today, we must recognize the importance and responsibilities of living in a digital age.

It is our responsibility that we be vigilant in documenting our knowledge for the serendipitous discovery of our fellow man, both today and years into the future — no matter our focus or industry.

Because if it’s not us taking advantage of this platform, the traditional owners of history will be more than happy to seep into play and stake their claim.

And that would be a wasted opportunity to make his-tory, our-story.

Tomorrow, from 1 to 5pm, Clement Mallory is putting on the Second Annual C37Words Youth Poetry Festival at 200 N. Davie Street, next to the Cultural Arts Center and Center City Park.

From the Greensboro Public Library:

The Festival will include poetry readings along with teen steppers, games, a comedian, African drumming and dancing, music, storytellers, an open-mic, hip hop dancing and more.

The C37WORDS Poetry Program empowers young people to discover ways to earn money from their talents. Organizer Clement Mallory hopes to inspire the youth in our community by showcasing their creative efforts.

Come on down and support the youth of our community.

Opens tomorrow, May 11th.

‘Hip Hop Project’ is a Long Time Coming
Davey D

[…] “It focuses on Chris Rolle, a.k.a. Kazi, a former homeless youth from the Bahamas who bears the emotional scars of abandonment by his mother. As a teenager, he lived a rugged life on the streets of Brooklyn, but he eventually “found his way,” thanks to hip-hop and a dream of becoming a rapper.

As a young adult, however, Kazi set aside that dream to dedicate his life to helping wayward teens. He launched a mentoring program named the Hip Hop Project, with the goal of getting youngsters to write, record and release a compilation album. Another goal was to get the young musicians to move beyond the all-too-familiar themes of sex, violence and misogyny. Kazi challenged them to dig deep and find their inner voices.

The process became a four- or five-year journey, as Kazi explored the deep-seated issues these teens faced, which went way beyond lyrics. In a recent interview, he explained that most young people lack the confidence to open up and express themselves, instead displaying only anger and a facade of callousness. He soon realized that they had developed callouses to protect the tender parts – their hearts and spirits.

Kazi understood that their lyrics initially reflected the pain resulting from a fatalistic view of life. The album became a secondary concern, as he realized that the kids needed healing to get on with their mental and spiritual development. And while dedicating every waking hour to assisting them, Kazi confronted his own issues over abandonment.” […]

Click To Play

Keith Robinson dropping science and experiences on the crowd last week at the C37Words production, Poetry GSO Slam, in Greensboro, NC.

If you felt that as much as I did in person, I’ll leave it up to you to transcribe the lyrics in the comment field.

Each Sunday, I’m going to spotlight a Hip Hop artist who isn’t a product of the music industry and can’t be cornered into representing the stereotypes that are so convenient for American mainstream media to manipulate.

This week, it’s Dead Prez.

Let’s kick it off with an interview of M-1 by Tao Ruspoli of LAFCO, where M-1 breaks down both his inspirations and his very real decision to make revolutionary choices on a daily basis:

Now stic.man, the other half of DP, who shares an experience from childhood — and the American educational system — that put him squarely on the path of self-determination, self-expression, independence and freedom. Again, brought to you by the folks of LAFCO:

Every revolution needs to be documented, otherwise who would believe that it was ever happening in the first place? Atlanta based photographer, Shannon McCollum, is the man who does just that for DP:

Are you feeling what goes into their work yet? Now, the product itself:

Uh, uh, uh, 1-2, 1-2
Uh, uh, 1-2, 1-2, uh, uh
All my dogs…

[Hook]
It’s bigger than..hip..hop..hip..hop..hip..hop..hip..
It’s bigger than..hip..hop..hip..hop..hip..hop..hip-hop

[M1]
Uh, one thing ’bout music when it hit you feel no pain
White folks say it controls yo’ brain
I know better than that, that’s game
And we ready for that - two soldiers head of the pack
Matter of fact, who got the gat?
And where my army at? Rather attack and not react
Back to beats, it don’t reflect on how many records get sold
On sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll
Whether your project’s put on hold
In the real world; these just people with ideas
They just like me and you when the smoke and camera disappear
Against the real world *echos*
It’s bigger than all these fake-ass records
When po’ folks got the millions and my woman’s disrespected
If you check 1-2, my word of advice to you is just relax
Just do what you got to do; if that don’t work, then kick the facts
If you a fighter, rider, biter, flame-ignitor, crowd-exciter
Or you wanna jus’ get high, then just say it
But then if you a liar-liar, pants on fire, wolf-crier, agent wit’ a wire
I’m gon’ know it when I play it

[Hook]

[stic.man]
Uh, who shot Biggie Smalls?
If we don’t get them, they gon’ get us all
I’m down for runnin’ up on them crackers in they city hall
We ride for y’all - all my dogs stay real
Nigga, don’t think these record deals gon’ feed your seeds
And pay your bills, because they not
MCs get a little bit of love and think they hot
Talkin’ ’bout how much money they got; all y’all records sound the same
I’m sick of that fake thug, R&B-rap scenario, all day on the radio
Same scenes in the video, monotonous material
Y’all don’t here me though
These record labels slang our tapes like dope
You can be next in line and signed; and still be writing rhymes and broke
You would rather have a Lexus? or justice? a dream? or some substance?
A Beamer? a necklace? or freedom?
Still a nigga like me don’t playa-hate, I just stay awake
This real hip-hop; and it don’t stop ’til we get the po-po off the block
They call it…

[Hook 2x]

[Repeat 6x]
D.P.’s got that crazy shit
We keep it crunked-up, John Blazed and shit

(*”They call it, call it, call it” -> stic.man*)
(*”Fake, fake, fake records” -> M1*)

More Dead Prez:

• I Believe
• They School
• These Are The Times
• Radio Freq
• Mind Sex
• Hell Yeah

National Poetry Month is coming to a close in a few days, but Clement Mallory might have just put it to bed last night with a bang.

With a packed house in the lecture hall of the Greensboro Historical Museum, Clement effortlessly moved the crowd as the emcee of the competition, displaying a rare range of lyrics and emotion, delivered across numerous poems as the judges tallied their results.

But there’s something other than talent that separates Clement from his peers.

While he’s making moves as an up and coming performer, it’s his foundation as a teacher and his Brooklyn born and raised personality that makes his approach unique.

The first half of the show consisted of a teen competition and by any “standard” of a spoken word competition, the kids delivered more poetry than passion — mostly standing behind a podium and reciting their words.

But as a teacher, Clement’s concern was visibly focused on the kids growth as poets, performers and their confidence with their own voice, not their current ability to rock the stage. His realness, casualness and sense of humor seeped from his soul each time he addressed the crowd — whether killing time between acts, giving advice to the kids after the adults slammed or while making connections with his next opportunity through an ill shout out.

Before the show was even half-way through, he had the audience completely eating out of his hands.

In the end, the finals of the adult slam came down to two poets battling it out for the first place prize — Monica Daye and Keith Robinson (A.K.A. The Arsonist). If it were up to me, they both would’ve walked away with top honors.

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Keith Robinson (A.K.A. The Arsonist) ended up bringing home the $250 first prize, but it wasn’t because of this powerful drop. Let’s just say that this Marine veteran of the first Gulf War wasn’t feeling the actions of our current president.

Look for that winning slam on next week’s Lyricist Wednesday.

Another great night in GSO.

In five days, it’ll be the four-year anniversary of “Mission accomplished.”

Unbelievable.

btw, Steven Connell is amazing.

Clement is hosting the spoken word jam this Friday night. Come on down (it’s free) and you’ll have an opportunity to get to know The Future of Poetry.

Congrats again on the cover story, man.

(shot by renocargo)

The Insider: Chuck D
by Andy Langer

WHO: Chuck D, 20-year leader of Public Enemy, the seminal hip-hop group whose 1990 LP, Fear of a Black Planet, was recently chosen by the Library of Congress for a list of 50 recordings worthy of inclusion in the National Recording Registry.

Austin Chronicle: Once again, it seems like best of the times and the worst of times for hip-hop.

Chuck D: It always is. That’s our history. But I think right now hip-hop’s value is too often weighed in quantity, not quality. When you just talk about business, I tell people slavery was a booming business in America, one of the strongest businesses America ever had. It was morally and ethically corrupt and bankrupt. We have to watch ourselves when we measure the success of something based wholly on numbers.

AC: Isn’t the nature of the record business to focus on dollars and cents?

CD: Sure, but I think its lack of emotional attachment to the art and music has really hurt in the digital transition. To me, a lot of the people who replaced guys like Berry Gordy, Ahmet Ertegün, and Al Bell weren’t big enough fans of the music. And you have journalists limited in the knowledge of the music they cover. So the attitude is, “Yesterday don’t count; now counts, and tomorrow we’ll wait for the next big thing, because today’s not that great either.” That’s a terrible attitude to have. The music business is healthy. The record business is in trouble.

AC: Where does that leave PE? Twenty years in? What’s your legacy?

CD: Twenty years and 57 tours. We got our passports in 1987 and have been spreading our dream around the world ever since. We tour the U.S. every four years and meet people who ask, “When are you going to come back through here?” We might not, but that doesn’t mean we’re not getting down. We come around like an eclipse. We have seven continents to deal with.

AC: Have you always gotten the credit you deserve?

CD: Hip-hop doesn’t get the credit it deserves for being diverse and thorough. When hip-hop gets respect as an art form, we get it by default. But people want to talk to us about Flavor of Love, Ali Rap, or our take on Barack Obama. That stuff has nothing to do with our consistency. Controversy has nothing to do with getting down and being good.

We’re the Rolling Stones of rap. I don’t know if Flavor is Keith or Mick, but our performance is a combination of Run-DMC, the Roots, and Rage Against the Machine. We developed the standard for live hip-hop. We’ve truly been the group that represents the meaning of hip-hop and rap music, the respect of music as the universal language, and taken that attitude all over the world.

Americans are poor on understanding time, history, and geography. We try to be strong on all those points. Around the world, PE resonates. America needs to get with it. We never fell off. America did.

Opinions are like assholes, everybody has ‘em.

Ed, if you want to protect yours from the big, bad world outside of Ed, keep ‘em in the paper and off of our internet.

Artist: Public Enemy (ft. Sister Souljah & Paris)
Song: Hard Rhymin’
Release Date: 2006

==========

[Sister Souljah]
Brothers and sisters, this is not a test
I’ve been asked by Public Enemy leader Chuck D to make this emergency announcement
The police in your cities, for all intents and purposes
have declared open season on black people (hey yo check one two)
Public Enemy was driven into the underground by government forces
However a small resistance is forming
Both Terminator X and Chuck D have resurfaced
Leading a small mobile rebel unit, “The Valley of the Jeep Beats”
(1-2-3-4-5-6)

[Chuck D]
Hard rhyme and the rebel is on the mic
One time, rhyme animal’s on the mic
They’re still keepin, youth asleep an’
We in the hood with heat and still beatin
And we back with the rap that packs the room
Black tracks with the rhythm that make you move
Can’t hush the bumrush, we bust the sound
with these sonic bombs, feel the pressure all around
Raise the level I’m up again rhymin
Ridin on the devil since I began rhymin
Hell we bring back the meat that rap lacks
Cause like I said, we got sold down the river
And I ain’t for these racist wars
A lie’s fed by these TV whores
I know it’s more to news fake the truth
We break through won’t lose we move with Public Enemy

[Chorus 2X: Chuck D] + (Paris)
Hard rhyme when the rebel is on the mic
One time rhyme animal’s on the mic
(It’s P.E. - whattup - it’s on you, brother what’chu wanna do)
(Brother tell me if it’s on, it’s on)

[Chuck D]
Now hip-hop was a gift that lifted up
Loved rap ’til the companies ripped it up
Now the soul is set, we’ve been had like jazz
If you down for change then they take your voice away
And then they tell you the best is white
Co-signed by a nigga that pimped the mic
Make the rule the view that the beef is cool
But what it do is fool the few fools who buy the feud
Keep the people all blind and dumb dancin
Never let a record that wreck become rampant
See the street copycat the crap rap and songs
Not knowin “There’s a POISON Goin’ On”
‘Til the message revealed and I show
But you never get to hear it on the radio
Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, fuck Jack!
Bust that, squeeze, rewind the shit, c’mon

[Chorus]

[Interlude - scratching and samples]
“C’mon now!” DJ Lord
“Here we go again”
“C’mon now!” Guerilla Funk
(Hey yo check one..)

[Chuck D]
We move as a team to keep them demons out
Y’all know what I’m talkin about
See ‘em used, abused, confused us into thinkin that
bein ghetto mean the same as bein ignorant
And so we strive to rise and get by
No peace for the beast we police and shine the light
Culture vanish on the television pimpin those
on “Cribs” in a home that they never own
Damn! Tell me that once again
Radio and the video don’t uplift
Take a stand be demandin all my freedom and my civil rights
Worldwide fight the plan and they genocide
Yes the road is long and hard
And when I’m gone you’ll say I did my part
Keep gunnin, we the crew that never lose
on the ones and the motherfuckin twos, Public Enemy

[Chorus] - 2X

[Flavor Flav]
Hey yo check one two
Yeah that’s right, Flavor Flav takin you back to the next millennium
You know what I’m sayin? Always cold cold kille-enum
You know what I’m sayin? And I ain’t playin
It’s all in the message that we’re layin
I got a secret weapon, you know what I’m sayin?
Let’s take two steps to the rear, we gettin out of here
You know what I’m sayin? Operation Cold Killin ‘Em to the next millenium

Flavor Flav, rock the house

Hey yo check one two

(originally uploaded by Richard Liriano)

Russel Simmons responding to criticism of Hip hop lyrics on 4/16/2007:

“My response to Sen. Obama is that you have to talk about the poverty and ignorance that creates such a climate that the poets can talk like that. People who are angry, uneducated and come from tremendous struggle, they have poetic license and they say things that offend you,” Simmons told ABC News. “You have to talk about the conditions that create those kinds of lyrics. When you are talking about a privileged man who has a mainstream vehicle and mainstream support and is on a radio station like that you have to deal with them differently.”

Russel Simmons responding to criticism of Hip hop lyrics on 4/23/07:

“We recommend that the recording and broadcast industries voluntarily remove/bleep/delete the misogynistic words ‘bitch’ and ‘ho’ and the racially offensive word ‘nigger’,” Simmons and Benjamin Chavis, co-chairmen of the advocacy group Hip-Hop Summit Action Network, said in a statement.

“These three words should be considered with the same objections to obscenity as ‘extreme curse words’ “

Russell Simmons spotlighted in BusinessWeek on 10/27/03:

“Any company that wants to tap into the youth market today has to pay attention to Russell,” says Frank Cooper, the head of multicultural market development at Pepsi. “He is one of the principal architects of hip-hop culture. It’s a market that is massive and that is global.”

Enough with the corporate perspective; let’s hear from a Hip hop head:

Not all Hip hop artists play the industry to make their dough, so an all out ban on particular language is senseless — it truly is all about context.

So maybe a good place to start would be applying pressure in the signing process of record industry itself, where A&R people tend look for the next hotness explicitly in terms of whether it’ll sell or not.

If these folks were actually held to a standard beyond simply bringing in artists that will sell in the current market, we wouldn’t have this problem — misogynous and degrading rap would fall back to indie distribution models… at best.

But it’s not like Hip hop culture hasn’t been aware of this problem for a long time now:

[…] My optic presentation sizzles the retina.
How far must I go to gain respect? Um.
Well, it’s kind of simple, just remain your own
Or you’ll be crazy sad and alone.
Industry rule number four thousand and eighty,
record company people are shady.
So kids watch your back ’cause I think they smoke crack,
I don’t doubt it. Look at how they act.
Off to better things like a hip-hop forum. […]

(originally uploaded by Steve Rhodes)

Question: Who’s the man in the above picture?

I admit the visual reference might not be enough for anyone that isn’t a Hip hop head, so I’ll give you even more of a hint:

Sorry for the set-up; I wouldn’t expect many people to know that he’s Boots Riley from The Coup.

I also wouldn’t expect many people to know the depth of the man and his music.

Or even that Boots blogs.

I’m using Boots as just one example of someone who represents one particular slice of a culture, Hip hop, that most people don’t know anything about — no matter what they think.

More on Boots and his colleagues in a bit.

What You Hear Is Not A Test

Today, Ed Cone ventured into a pretty lightweight deconstruction of “rap” lyrics, and only after numerous people and media outlets — local and from afar — made a stink about Don Imus catching flak for his pointed remarks a few weeks back, arguing that African-Americans and/or “rappers” actually drive the use of this harmful language.

Ed’s introduction to his column:

[…] “For my newspaper column, I listened to the lyrics of Billboard’s top ten rap tracks and tried to contextualize the Imus affair.” […]

I can’t remember the last time someone in Hip hop, out-of-the-blue, verbally assaulted a specific group of innocent people like the Rutger’s Women’s Basketball team. Admittedly, I’m not twisting the context of the offense to the use of a particular word or phrase and instead, keeping it focused on the nature of the attack from a broadcaster.

Along those lines, IMO, it would be more productive to review the context of Imus’ bile by looking at the rest of the shock-jock industry, like this gem from Neil Bortz:

Boortz: For instance, or for goodness sakes, jump in and I’m gonna say — I’m gonna start out with something controversial. I saw Cynthia McKinney’s new hair-do. Have you seen it, Belinda?

Skelton: No.

Boortz: She looks like a ghetto slut.

Skelton: Well, how is it?

Boortz: It’s just — it’s hideous.

Skelton: Is it braided? Or –

Boortz: No, it’s not braided. It just flies away from her head in every conceivable direction. It looks like an explosion in a Brillo pad factory. It’s just hideous. To me, that hairstyle just shows contempt for — no, it’s not an Afro. I mean, no, it just shows contempt for the position that she holds and the body that she serves in. And, I’m sorry, there’s just no other way to — it’s just a hideous and horrible looking –

Marshall: It looks better than the braids she was wearing.

Boortz: No, the braids had some dignity. They had some class.

Marshall: The braids had dignity?

Boortz: They had more class than this thing.

Marshall: This says, you know, kinda 2000s, you know, stepping up to the plate. Contemporary look, you know?

Boortz: She looks like Tina Turner peeing on an electric fence.

Pam has great context for those of you who might think of these comments as harmless.

But the point of this post isn’t about Don Imus, nor is it about those people out there that are obfuscating the context of his comment. There’s a whole other angle of misinformation in Ed’s post, based more in ignorance than intent, that I wish to dissect.

I’m One Of A Kind And I’ll Shock Your Mind

Whether he knows it or not, Ed made a bunch of generalizations in his column. This particular paragraph stood out the most to me:

[…] “I’m bothered not just by what rappers say but why they say it. The lyrics and the popularity of the genre aren’t happening in a vacuum; they reflect something about the realities of a larger culture that is coarse, consumerist and often violent. Public Enemy’s Chuck D famously said that rap is like “CNN for black people.” Maybe part of the problem is that these days, the best-known member of the socially conscious Public Enemy is Flava Flav, who once rapped about the harsh reality of life in poor neighborhoods but now does clownish “reality” shows on corporate television.” […]

People like to talk about Hip hop as if they know everything about anything, so I’m not surprised by Ed’s perspective — even with him being alive during The Sugarhill Gang’s debut.

How Ed jumps from “a larger culture that is coarse, consumerist and often violent” to Public Enemy — without pause for at least a paragraph on the current administration of the Executive Branch — is beyond me.

You know, it wasn’t Flavor Flav that told America to go out and buy shit just a few days after the towers went down on 9/11.

I’ll play along for shits and giggles, though.

So, Flav has become the king of reality tv, but as the de facto hype man in the carefully orchestrated membership of Public Enemy — something that would take another post entirely to detail — that shouldn’t shock anyone.

Flav was never the point man of PE, the guy “rapping about the harsh reality of life in poor neighborhoods.” For every 911’s A Joke, there are a hundred songs with Flav explicitly playin’ his role in the group as comic relief while shadowing Chuck.

So how does that play out 20 years beyond the zenith of Public Enemy’s career?

While Flav does his reality tv and flashes his grill, Chuck D does his speaking gigs and radio shows covering everything from anti-DRM to politics. The whole of Public Enemy prospers from their individual focuses — which draw in new audiences from distinct demographics — far more than simply being a sum of its parts.

But if you’ve seen any of the Flavor of Love shows, you know that he doesn’t represent himself as a foul-mouthed “rapper.” I honestly don’t see how Flav acting like Flav with a viking cap and oversized clock necklace and sunglasses has anything to do with the topic at hand — except for serving as a convenient segue from the bridge of the CNN line.

All that said, Ed is pretty much on point when he ruminates over “rap” lyrics and the ills of a larger culture.

The point begging to be made about this particular element — the crux of his column — is that he doesn’t realize to what degree and how narrow of a focus that truly is within the culture of Hip hop.

What we need is the Teacher to break this down to a digestible format:

More KRS-One:

(by thecnote)

[…] “ ‘Hip hop has nothing to do with rap. Rap is an element. There is a consciousness that makes you rap, graffiti or break, for example.’

KRS-One talked a great deal about the importance of being one’s own self, the most essential part of Hip hop culture. ‘Hip hop begins with the courage to be yourself. Being you has consequences,’ KRS-One said.

Want to find out if you’re Hip hop? You know you are if ‘you gravitate toward it. You see graffiti art and you try to make out the words, you see breaking and you say, ‘Man, I could do that,’ KRS-One said.

And, of course, one should know the proper way to actually identify the culture. Hip hop is a culture; therefore, it should function as a proper noun. Hip hop is the music, and referring to the culture in the hyphenated form, KRS-One claimed, is degrading. The rapper’s explanations of the technicalities of the Hip hop world could have left audience member confused; if Hip hop is not the music, what is?

Listeners were enlightened about the differences between Hip hop and rap. ‘Hip hop is not rap music,’ KRS-One said. ‘Rap is controlled by corporations. A rapper rhymes for corporations, and an emcee rhymes for culture. A rapper talks about himself, what he has. An emcee talks about what’s already on your mind. An emcee raps about what you need, not about fantasy.‘ Ultimately, a point stressed heavily throughout the night, Hip hop is something that is lived, a consciousness of the world around us.” […]

That’s a much more expansive description of Hip hop than “rappers” being misogynistic and foul-mouthed, but culture can’t be locked down to one set of definitions either — passing the mic back to Boots Riley, from a long, lost interview at Davey D’s spot:

(by bagelradio)

[…] “When the first Sugarhill Gang record came out and it was on the radio I was already living in Oakland then but there were people who had recently moved out here from the mid west and the south and I remember us saying they had a hambone record out on the radio. My whole thing with that is there’s a lot of elements of hip hop… like the four elements of hip hop is really just a commercialization and a way to commodify things because you have to put things into easy categories in order to sell it. It’s a lot easier to sell as an invention that kind of slipped and fell together by a series of events that happened in one place than it is to tell it as a history of a people. So that’s something that I feel is left out of hip hop. That was my first connection to rapping [hamboning]. Another more obvious one is beatboxing. That was something that was very much a part of hip hop. I first started hearing the four elements maybe from the early 90s. I don’t know who started that but it’s full of shit to me.” […]

Contradicting, yet accentuating points of view within a culture — a hell of a lot deeper than “bitch” and “ho” framed within the bullshit corporate constructs of a genre.

The CNN For ALL People Who Care To Tune-In

If all this isn’t new to you, glad to have you in my digs. To those of you who are learning something new, you might just dig checking out a few CTD alumni.

One bit of advice: focus on the message, the intent and the wordplay — leave the curse count for Tipper Gore.

• De La Soul
• Immortal Technique
• The Roots
• Public Enemy / Paris
• The Coup
• Brand Nubian / Common
• Rage Against The Machine
• KRS-One
• Talib Kweli
• DJ Danger Mouse
• Chuck D
• Mos Def

Thank God their standards for speaking truth to power and shedding light are higher than CNN.

Artists: Mos Def - Immortal Technique - Eminem

=============

[Mos Def - talking]
Man, you hear this bullshit they be talkin’
Every day, man
It’s like these motherfuckers is just like professional liars
YouknowwhatI’msayin? It’s wild
Listen

[Hook - Mos Def]
Bin Laden didn’t blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)–[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)–[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga

Bin Laden didn’t blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)–[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)–[Jadakiss]

[Verse 1 - Immortal Technique]
I pledge no allegiance, nigga fuck the president’s speeches
I’m baptized by America and covered in leeches
The dirty water that bleaches your soul and your facial features
Drownin’ you in propaganda that they spit through the speakers
And if you speak about the evil that the government does
The Patriot Act’ll track you to the type of your blood
They try to frame you, and say you was tryna sell drugs
And throw a federal indictment on niggaz to show you love
This shit is run by fake Christians, fake politicians
Look at they mansions, then look at the conditions you live in
All they talk about is terrorism on television
They tell you to listen, but they don’t really tell you they mission
They funded Al-Qaeda, and now they blame the Muslim religion
Even though Bin Laden, was a CIA tactician
They gave him billions of dollars, and they funded his purpose
Fahrenheit 9/11, that’s just scratchin’ the surface

[Hook - Mos Def]
Bin Laden didn’t blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)–[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)–[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga

Bin Laden didn’t blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)–[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)–[Jadakiss]

[Verse 2 - Immortal Technique]
They say the rebels in Iraq still fight for Saddam
But that’s bullshit, I’ll show you why it’s totally wrong
Cuz if another country invaded the hood tonight
It’d be warfare through Harlem, and Washington Heights
I wouldn’t be fightin’ for Bush or White America’s dream
I’d be fightin’ for my people’s survival and self-esteem
I wouldn’t fight for racist churches from the south, my nigga
I’d be fightin’ to keep the occupation out, my nigga
You ever clock someone who talk shit, or look at you wrong?
Imagine if they shot at you, and was rapin’ your moms
And of course Saddam Hussein had chemical weapons
We sold him that shit, after Ronald Reagan’s election
Mercenary contractors fightin’ a new era
Corporate military bankin’ off the war on terror
They controllin’ the ghetto, with the failed attack
Tryna distract the fact that they engineerin’ the crack
So I’m strapped like Lee Malvo holdin’ a sniper rifle
These bullets’ll touch your kids, and I don’t mean like Michael
Your body be sent to the morgue, stripped down and recycled
I fire on house niggaz that support you and like you
Cuz innocent people get murdered in the struggle daily
And poor people never get shit and struggle daily
This ain’t no alien conspiracy theory, this shit is real
Written on the dollar underneath the Masonic seal

(I don’t rap for dead presidents
I’d rather see the president dead
It’s never been said but I set precedents)–[Eminem]

[Hook - Mos Def]
Bin Laden didn’t blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)–[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)–[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga

Bin Laden didn’t blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)–[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)–[Jadakiss]

(Shady Records was 80 seconds away from the towers
Some cowards fucked with the wrong building, they meant to hit ours)– [Eminem]

Common is playing Guilford College next Saturday, March 31st.

Artist: Clement D. Mallory (Greensboro out of Brooklyn)

Song: 10 Million Dollars

==========

1 million, 2 million, 3 million…
1 million, 2 million, 3 million 4 million, 5 million…
1 million, 2 million, 3 million 4 million, 5 million, 6 million, 7 million…
1 million, 2 million, 3 million 4 million, 5 million, 6 million, 7 million, 8 million, 9 million…
1 million, 2 million, 3 million 4 million, 5 million, 6 million, 7 million, 8 million, 9 million, 10 million dollars!
What will I do with 10 million dollars?!
With my first million, like Oprah, I’d have a show
And you know that Russel Simmons he would be on that Def Poetry, yo
With my second million, I would give it away like Bill Cosby
My charity would be me and my family
So I would know exactly where my money is going
Right back to my black community
With my third million I would build a school with free food
Just like George “The Iceman” Gervin
But it would be the Clement D. Mallory Foundation, in parenthesis (School of Poetry)
I would take my fourth million and invest it in my own damn stock
Like my clothing, my books and my CD’s would be all be making that Dow Jones money
Like non-stop
Them I’ma bank my whole fifth million
So all I’m doing is just chillin’ — livin’ off my interest
With my sixth million, like Jay-Z, Nelly and Puffy I would own a basketball team
But of course you know it would be a youth league
Cause in reality, in would cost me much more than a million to even be a part-owner of a NBA basketball team
3/4 of my seventh million would go into real estate
250 of that would be for land that I would smack
Right in-between all the Malcolm X’s and Martin Luther King Jr. streets
Cause they gain so much more than money
700 thousand of my eighth million
I would use to do what Mrs. Antella did, which is financing a magazine
But every one of my articles would strictly be on graffiti
That leftover 300 thousand would be doled for miscellaneous things
Like, maybe I might buy some jewelry
With my ninth million, my advertising power would go straight into commercials
It would be me and Spike Lee teaming up with Hype Williams to produce some of the hottest ever made videos
And with my tenth and final million, I think with half of that I would purchase a couple of laundromats
Cause quarters make dollars
With the other half, I would put on some Jerry Lewis type Walk-a-thon
And where ever I’d go, I’d have 500 thousand dollars for 500 thousand homeless people that ask for a dollar
Yeah that’s what I’d do with 10 million dollars
With 10 million dollars, I’d be the black Bill Gates
Stay up counting my money
Like 1 million, 2 million, 3 million 4 million, 5 million, 6 million, 7 million, 8 million, 9 million, 10 million, 10 million dollars!

Artist: The Coup
Song: Heven Tonite

==========

[Chorus]
Preacher man wanna save my soul
Don’t nobody wanna save my life
People we done lost control
Let’s make heaven tonite
Preacher man wanna save my soul
Don’t nobody wanna save my life
People we done lost control
Let’s make heaven tonite

Now as I sleep may the oxygen inflate my lungs
May my arteries and heart oscillate as one
If police come may I awake escape and run
In the morning may I have the sake to scrape the funds
And if I take the plunge
May it be said that I wasn’t afraid to shake my tongue
Show the state was scum
Makin’ sure that the callin’ bell of fate was rung
Cuz if they could the would
And probly tried to
Rape the sun
Someone said that this is just my body
Wait for the Afterpary
Where ain’t no shut-off note
And every wallet there is knotty
Feet are on the asphalt
Dick in the dirt
This system take vickin’ to work
Listen alert
Check out the introvert
In the corner with the rip in her skirt
Stomach pains so she grippin’ her shirt
Ain’t never had dinner
So she know she ain’t gettin’ dessert
Don’t try to tell me it’s her mission to hurt
I got faith in the people and they power to fight
We gon make the struggle blossom
Like a flower to light
I know that we could take power tonight
Make ‘em cower from might
And get emergency clearance from the tower for flight
I ain’t sittin in your pews less you helpin’ me resist and refuse
Show me a list of your views
If you really love me
Help me tear this muthafucka up
Consider this my tithe for the offer cup

[Chorus]

I used to think about infinity
And how my memory is finna be
Invisibly slim in that vicinity
And though the stars are magnificent
Whisky and the midnight sky can make you feel insignificant
The revolution in this tune and verse
Is a bid for my love to touch the universe
Strugglin’ over wages and funds
Let the movement get contagious and run
Through the end when it’s gauges and guns
And if we win in the ages to come
We’ll have a chapter where the history pages are from
They won’t never know our name or face
But feel our soul in free food they taste
Feel our passion when they heat they house
When they got power on the streets
And the police don’t beat ‘em about
Let’s make health care centers on every block
Let’s give everybody homes and a garden plot
Let’s give all the schools books
Ten kids a class
And give ‘em truth for their pencils and pads
Retail clerk - "love ballads" where you place this song
Let’s make heaven right here
Just in case they wrong

[Chorus]

John Smith and I met last Friday afternoon, as I worked out of The Press (Wine Cafe) across the street from my home/office. We rapped about driving in NYC, women, music… dude was just real and at times, a riot.

I think I caught him in the above photo thinking about whether or not he could retain his manhood while drinking beer from a frosty glass. That entire conversation killed me, because as he vociferously defended the mechanics of the bottle and the presentation of “guy” it projected, he had a slice of lime swirling around in his beer bottle.

Heh.

Meeting cool locals like John isn’t the only new thing happening across the street. The spot has quickly become both my office of choice for calls & non-design intensive work (the WiFi connection is really strong) and my default lunch spot (Turkey Panini, chips and a coke, gracias). And while I wasn’t quite digging the music much before, the vibe has begun to shift a bit.

First of all, the live shows — what I’ve caught at least — have been damn good.

They had a solo, acoustic act a few weeks ago; the guy moved smoothly from Stevie Wonder to Mark Cohn to Neil Young and sounded amazing. Last week, I stumbled in on the Thursday night show and people were cuttin’ up the rug by the sofas. And this past Thursday, I swear the senior member of the jazz quartet couldn’t have been any older than 24… and their improv was as sick as their flow was tight.

Greensboro talent representing.

My only real complaint of the day to day experience — the CD rotation — has changed a bit as well. I just don’t know if Mike and Aaron know about it.

I’ve been slipping the staff mixed CD’s with jazz, hip-hop and electronica, shifting the vibe a bit from the afternoon elevator jazz we’ve had to endure this past month. The vibe is definitely still jazzy, but there’s now some freshness to the mix. I’m hoping that down the road, the guys invest in some form of a jukebox solution, something that customers can influence at no cost.

Until then, it’s all good.

Artist: De La Soul
Song: Ego Trippin’ (Part Two)

==========

DOVE:
I’m buggin’

POS:
E-ghostbusters

DOVE:
Mercy, mercy, (ego trip, ego trip)
Mercy! (ego trip, ego trip), Mercy!!!

MASE:
Aaah!!! Aaah!!! Aaah!!! Aaah!!!
Aaah!!! Aaah!!! Aaah!!! Aaah!!!
Aaah!!! Aaah!!! Aaah!!! Aaah!!!
Aaah!!! Aaah!!! Aaah!!! Aaah!!!

DOVE:
Yep, yep big trucker man’s rollin’ in town
How ya do, how ya do
I got the joints to make ya…(JUMP!)
Because I’m headin’ eastbound
Tired of the merry go round and around
And everybody’s talkin’ bout you’re so funny
But they still tellin’ lies to me
I got the trees in my backyard
And it’s hard for them to tell a lie to me
And who’s the foot, I’m the foot but who’s steppin’
(Ain’t no half steppin’)
You know where I’m steppin’
Skirts play wit it cause I’m slick like that
I’m the greatest MC in the world!!
You gots to gimme gimme mine cause I’m heavy when I weigh it
Watch the way I say it (ego trip)
Change my pitch up, smack my bitch up
I never did it
The flavor’s bein’ butt but brothers ain’t gettin’ it
Get it; or else you’re a goner
When I rolls over ya gonna have to wanna lamp
Cause it’s the chattanooga champ
Takin’ a train…Takin’ a train…Takin’ a train…Takin’ a train…

POS:
Now I’m somethin’ like a phenomenon
I’m somethin’ like a phenomenon
Well I’m the hourglass cat
Drug it out of jack

DOVE:
For jill

POS:
Cause I spilled the phenomenon
Pack the holes in my lawn
The girls in my saun[a]
Word is born I’m a livin’ phenomenon
Well