Look Ma, No Skillz

This is for you, Scott. You asked for it.

Suge got Knock'd.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen. About a decade ago, Marion "Suge" Knight held the keys to the rap kingdom. He had Snoop, Tupac and Dr. Dre on his label. He was revered and feared in the industry due to reputation for "hands-on" business negotiations. He added the word "Untouchable" in front of label's moniker and it seemed to fit, for him at least. Even as his empire splintered and Death Row went bankrupt, his name still commanded attention and respect and he became the only star on his label.

Now, Suge appears in reality shows and low budget films with Jean Claude Van Dammme and silly movies like "Reno 911!: Miami" trading on his reputation as an music entrepreneur and an enforcer. After the images from a Sunday night altercation hit the net, Knight may have a hard time selling that image.

According to TMZ, Knight interrupted a conversation between two men outside a night spot. Knight was apparently unaware that one of these men was a member of IKSRFO. A scuffle ensued and Knight took one to the jaw, leaving him on the sidewalk for three minutes, out cold, according to TMZ.

The Arrogant Voices of Musical Truth Speak

After the demise of their smart and critical hip hop magazine, the brilliant minds behind Ego Trip didn't stop churning out controversial and provocative ideas. They published two excellent books, "The Book of Rap Lists," and the essential "Big Book of Racism." Later, the content from the latter publication led to a VH-1 show called "Race O Rama," a show that twisted the channel's typical rehashes of the past with insight from rap artists mixed with informative content.

The crew then jumped on the reality show bandwagon, tapping MC Serch for "The White Rapper Show," and partnering him with Yo-Yo for "Miss Rap Supreme."For the most part, the collective have let their work speak for itself. Recently, however, they sat down with Jesse Thorn of The Sound of Young America, and offered insight into the process behind their creative and compelling productions. Listen in below.

25 Rappers that suck ... according to Yahoo

Yahoo music writer Rob O'Connor has compiled a list of the 25 worst rappers of all time. As you might imagine, his list has inspired some debates among people who care deeply about such things. He might look like the Spin Doctors, but he's writing for hip hoppers. The list follows, along with my humble analysis of his selections.

25) Chicago Bears: The Chicago Bears are a professional football team based in Chicago, Illinois. In 1985, before winning the Super Bowl they daringly commemorated their proud achievement with "The Super Bowl Shuffle," a rap tune that made this group of on the field tough guys look like an ineffective glee club. Did they really psych out their opponents with this? So why didn't they record a follow-up? They didn't win the Super Bowl the next year. Honorable mention goes to the Miami Dolphins, the San Francisco 49ers, the L.A. Raiders, the Cincinnati Bengals and the L.A. Rams, other football teams who couldn't resist the urge to kick back a few beats and look more than a little silly.

The Chicago Bears are a football team. So they would be 32 bad rappers, not just one. Picking on a novelty group this early in the list places the integrity of this project in doubt.

24) Bubba Sparxxx: Cut from much of the same cloth as Fred Durst, here's another earnest white boy looking to earn his street cred by exhibiting talents he doesn't actually have. You know how a kid will brag that his TV is bigger than your TV and then never get around to showing you this "Big TV"? That's kind of what a Bubba Sparxxx album is like. You keep hearing about how cool and assured he is, but you never actually hear any music that backs up the claim. Guest appearing on tracks by Limp Bizkit and Justin Timberlake should make you very nervous, despite some legit rappers claiming he's OK.

I never listened to Sparxxx long enough to determine just how wack he was. I'll take your word for this one, Rob.

23) Mike Jones: He can't rap, but he sure knows how to make friends. Putting his cellphone number on his T-Shirts ensured that Mike would never be lonely. But can you really trust a rapper whose track "Houston Dynamo (Don't Play)" is the official team anthem for the Houston Dynamos? A soccer team?

Can't argue with this choice. Nobody would remember the name of this one hit wonder if he hadn't repeated it a jallion times in his one hit.

22) Bobby Jimmy And The Critters: In the 1980s, it was only a matter of time before someone decided to parody rap music. Weird Al was slow on the draw here. So this Los Angeles group did the honors with such "timeless" classics as "Gotta Potty," "Ugly Knuckle Butt" and "Somebody Farted." I know it sounds pretty good, classy even, but fart jokes get old quick no matter who's doing the telling.

For someone to be considered for a list like this, they should have to take themselves seriously. Bobby Jimmy aka Russ Parr, and his Critters were a joke. But it was funny.

21) 2 Live Crew: Oh, I know they stand for the first amendment. And "Me So Horny" deserves its rightful place in our cultural lexicon. But take away the historical importance and the one-joke wonder of it all and you're left with a crew of dudes who had to break up before everyone figured out they didn't know what the hell they were doing.

You can't discount the social impact of the 2 Live Crew's music and their struggle to be heard. They took rap to a place you never thought it would be, The Supreme Court. Move to strike this group from the list.

20) Nelly: Whoa, Nelly! Yeah, the band-aid was a great gimmick and noting that when it gets hot, it's man's natural instinct to want to take off his clothes, well, that's priceless, too. Maybe his next album Brass Knuckles, slated for release in a few months, will show us a new side to this flat-screen rapper. Surely, he's had time to find qualified producers and to bone up on his diction to make it sound like something more than reading off of cue cards.

Good pick. Nelly has no skills whatsoever.

19) Dan Aykroyd And Tom Hanks: Dan Aykroyd at least can claim he's a comedian but Tom Hanks is just an actor who's been cast in comedic roles and worn dresses. "City Of Crime" runs through the credits of their 1987 film Dragnet and they even made a video for it, suggesting they had ideas of branching out beyond their acting community. The hip-hop community apparently didn't welcome them with open arms, saving us from further inept endeavors. They make Rodney Dangerfield, Chevy Chase, Joe Piscopo and Eddie Murphy's rap attempts sound nearly legitimate by comparison. That's going some!

Another novelty pick. I'm starting to think Rob O. had to pad this list to reach the magic 25 number. I'm surprised MC Skat Cat isn't on here.

18) Chingy: You know an "artist" is really hitting a nerve when they inspire an onslaught of negative reviews at every website you visit. The consensus seems to be: "This guy's beats are terrible and his lyrics are stupid, degrading and barely literate at best." And we're guessing that came from his mom. I didn't need to read all 385 one star reviews to be tipped off to just how much other people don't admire this man's talent. To think he owns houses in multiple cities, partners a restaurant in Miami and has appeared on The George Lopez Show as himself! Someone's got a bit of explaining to do.

I concur. Chingy should stop.

17) Elvira: Cassandra Peterson had a perfectly legitimate career as "Elvira" the devilishly seductive vampire. Had she formed a Goth Metal group, it might have made sense, but in 1988 she opted for "The Elvira Rap," a charmingly inept attempt at doing what she does poorly. But she didn't stop there. "The Monsta' Rap" followed. Fool us once, shame on us. Twice, it's your problem, sista!

One more novelty group and this place is starting to look like "The Gong Show."

16) Insane Clown Posse: Face paint, bad rap-metal, once out of rhymes begin spraying their audiences with soda, Insane Clown Posse have all the hallmarks of a bad hype and the terrible, terrible records to back it up. Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope don't do much of anything well. Which explains why they hide their true identities. They make Kiss, their obvious influence, seem like the apex of modern culture in comparison. On the bright side, perhaps it's ICP's lame attempts at rap that have stopped Kiss and their accountants from considering a similar move.

Never heard them spit, but l bow to your wisdom and experience, Rob.

15) Rappin' Duke: Any rapper who boasts of working the mic at Ponderosa isn't likely to be taken seriously. His other claim in his self-titled rap ‘Rappin' Duke" that Kurtis Blow and Run DMC wouldn't have heard of rap were it not for the "Rappin' Duke" is as ludicrous as his boast that no rapper would exist after him. The Rappin' Duke never had a career beyond this single (there is a second single believe it or not called "The Duke Is Back" on famed Tommy Boy Records, but he apparently was not, in fact, "back"). That's what you get when you choose John Wayne as your point of hip-hop reference. Sorry, partner.

The Rappin' Duke couldn't rap. Duh-huh. Thing is, he was so bad, he wasn't easily forgotten, and that almost makes him good. Technically, though, he probably belongs on this list.

14) Master P: It isn't until you get to the chorus of Master P's Grammy-winning hit "Make ‘Em Say Ugh" that you realize just how bad this is going to be. P doesn't show much promise on the verses, but the guttural, food poisoning groan of nausea that provides the tune with its "hook," is among the genre's dumbest and least appealing. He has made a career out of moaning "Ugh." Of course, this success has been off the chart, ranking him in Forbes as one of the most successful entertainers and entrepreneurs. Thankfully, he now serves as a Youth Ambassador for the NAACP, a move that should lead to fewer musical endeavors. Only God Can Judge Me may be the name of one of his albums, but I prefer to let the people decide this one.

One of the filthiest to ever pick up a microphone. Master P's flow is sloppy, unpolished and completely devoid of any artistic merit. Move this guy down to the top 5.

13) Tony Yayo: Being the weakest link in any ensemble brings its own cross to bear. Why do you think Professor Griff was always the most annoyed member of Public Enemy, after all? As a member of G-Unit, Yayo was clearly the caboose of the group. If he really calls his latest album I Am 50's Tax Write-Off, which wouldn't be a bad idea, it would save the IRS time when the audit comes due and blatantly remind everyone he was in a group with 50 Cent. A better idea than Thoughts Of A Predicate Felon. The guy goes to prison on a weapons possession charge, but decides it's better to hype being an Outlaw Of Grammar?

I hear nothing but bad things about Tony Yayo's music. I'll assume they're all right and that Yayo is where he ought to be.

12) Northern State: While some people assume that anyone who can speak can rap, it's not quite that easy. Just as a singer must master pitch and tone, a rapper needs to sound natural. Nothing about this female Long Island trio ever sounds natural. They don't try to pretend they're anything they're not. But being well-educated, literate nerds from Long Island who name-check Al Gore doesn't for convincing rappers make. Grabbing Ad-Rock from the Beastie Boys to produce their album doesn't lend "credibility" either. It looks desperate. And having your tracks featured on Grey's Anatomy is just weird.

Inspired choice. I heard an album from these girls and I wanted to get my ears coned afterwards.

11) Shaquille O'Neal: Now I love watching Shaq stand over the basketball net and push the ball in with his hand. Being 12 feet tall has its advantages. Rapping isn't one of them. It doesn't make you sound better. If a midget like the Geto Boys' Bushwick Bill can get it so right, how is it that Shaq could get it so wrong? Well, as Bushwick would tell you "Size Ain't (expletive deleted)." Sure he can wax personal "Biological Didn't Bother" but bad puns like "Can't Stop the Reign" and "Blaq Supaman" (that's not even a pun, that's goofy spelling) just don't quite match up to what he's capable of on the basketball courts.

Shaq is waq. He does make the mistake of taking himself seriously, which made Skillz's destruction of his rap career all the more enjoyable. 99 free throws, anyone?

10) Marky Mark And The Funky Bunch: I believed them when they rapped "I Need Money." That sounded like the truth. But I draw the line when they title an album Music For The People. Why? What did the people ever do to you, Marky Mark? We certainly didn't ask for this music and if we did we should have been more specific. We wanted it to be better, that's for sure. But Marky Mark saw it coming. He knew he had a better career in underwear ads (calling David Beckham!) and in movies. Which is why we don't get to enjoy any new music from him anymore. Somehow, I think we'll make it.

A well-deserved ranking. The whole bunch was garbage and Marky was just acting.

9) K-Fed: When being married to Britney Spears is your greatest artistic accomplishment, you join a long line of Yoko Onos waiting for their eventual artistic validation. Someday, an ironic hip-hop group will no doubt celebrate Playing With Fire, Kevin Earl Federline's debut album. But for now, we're content to pretend it never happened. We'll let him keep custody of his children, but he must promise us to never make another album for as long as he shall live.

Mr. Federline's MTV performance was as embarrassing and pathetic as his ex-wife's appearance a month later. K-Fed's breathless effort showed a lack of discipline and practice, the two things that could have compensated for his lack of talent. He never put in real work, but he did earn this spot.

8) Will Smith: The people who vote in the Grammy Awards might very well be drunk when they do so. Or maybe they don't listen to the records they vote for. Now rap music wasn't really enjoyed by the "establishment" back in the 1980s, so they were primarily guessing at what the "kids" were listening to. And "Parents Just Don't Understand" was obviously a pretty "wacky" "rebellious" little number with all that clever rhyming! And Will Smith was certainly still "safe" enough to not inspire too much controversy. Which is exactly why he's a lousy rapper. And why Smith got out of there and into acting before everyone caught on.

A travesty that nearly discredits this entire exercise. I'm not a fan of Mr. Smith's work, but I do recognize its significance. "Brand New Funk," alone should keep him off roll calls like this one, not to mention his partnership with pioneering D.J. Jazzy Jeff. Mr. O'Connor, I just don't understand.

7) Mr. T: Yes, I pity the fool who thought Mr. T had a career singing, rapping and wearing extremely short camouflage shorts and stretched to the knee tube socks while telling you to treat your mother right. From his instructional video Be Somebody Or Be Somebody's Fool. Why take advice from a guy who seems to have opted for the latter?

I wonder if Rob O'Connor, the writer of this list, suffered through the scores of rap albums made by actors and comedians, and then picked the most horrible. Imagine listening to the Chunky A album and that record that Bud from Married With Children released and trying to decide who sounds worse. No wonder he looks so angry in his blog photo.

6) Fred Durst (Limp Bizkit): You have to question anyone who participates in a group that applauds its own erectile dysfunction. "Rap-metal" sounds like a bad idea, even before you hear how poorly it's executed. Ice-T couldn't pull it off with Body Count and these clowns can't even get the metal part right. So you can only imagine what happens when a rhythmically challenged singer attempts to show his "street cred" by enlisting the help of Method Man, who should've known better than to associate with a group whose stage props have included playing in a toilet. Some hints are more than hints.

The total dissappearance of Mr. Durst and his band from the music scene makes me happy when I'm sad.

5) Puff Daddy: P. Diddy, Puff Daddy, no matter what name you give him, his rapping doesn't improve. Sure, he's been a successful entrepreneur. Apparently, he can sell anything. He sold the idea of talking over a perfectly legitimate hit single by the Police as one of his own creations and winning a Grammy for his troubles. Again, are these people drunk when they vote?

Puffy's not one of the greatest rappers. But some his ghostwriters are. So that almost makes him ... okay.

4) Dee Dee King: As the bass player for the Ramones, Dee Dee Ramone was very good at counting off "1-2-3-4" and then playing his bass notes very fast. He didn't sing particularly well, but as a punk rocker he didn't need to. He wrote a handful of great songs. But then he decided he wanted more. He wanted to escape the artistic box that was the Ramones and establish his own identity--as a rapper! We only acknowledge what Dee Dee himself acknowledged. He truly was the "baddest rapper in Whitestone, Queens." R.I.P.

I had no idea this existed. Thanks for the warning.

3) Brian Austin Green: Brian Austin Green from the hit TV program Beverly Hills 90210 released a rap album in 1996 with tracks such as "That's Right" featuring the Black Eyed Peas, "Style Iz It," "Didn't Have A Clue" and "Beauty and Da Beats." I believe these titles reflect his passion. And if "sounds great while sleeping in a shopping mall" can be construed as a compliment, then I'm among his biggest fans and--though I hadn't realized it until now--have been anxiously awaiting his "comeback" for 12 years now!

Okay, he sucks. Next.

2) MC Hammer: "U Can't Touch This" was first described to me as someone repeatedly yelling "Stop, It's Hammer Time!" over Rick James' "Superfreak." Sounded like a bad idea. Sounded like a bad joke. Then I heard it. MC Hammer went on to sell millions of albums. Some people even took to dressing like him. Yet somehow he never managed to turn this into another marketing line, not even for glasses. That's how he ended up on reality TV, I guess.

Hammer dirtied the game with his hollering and trite lyrics, lowering the bar and paving the way for a sea of wackness that drowned hip hop. He's probably a nice guy, though.

1) Vanilla Ice: Whether Suge Knight ever actually dangled Robert Van Winkle, Mr. Vanilla Ice, from a balcony or not, the point intended is an important one: STOP MAKING RAP RECORDS. "Ice Ice Baby" isn't so much a bad song as simply an insult. Instead of making a low-rent porn video, Ice makes Cool As Ice, a film so bad it almost makes you wish he'd stuck to making records.

A given.

Let's recap. 1 Football Team. 5 Novelty acts. 10 White acts. 1 Legend. 3 Pop Stars. 3 Women.

Just Phrontin'?

Pharrell Williams, tennis shoe pimp and the face of The Neptunes production team, stands accused of beat jacking. House and soul music artist Peven Everett says that a track with Britney Spear's voice that found its way onto the blogosphere, "Sugarfalls" closely resembles a song by Everett called "Party of the Year."

The songs are compared in the clip above, so you can judge for yourself. You'll have to endure Mr. Everett's chest-thumping narrative directed at Skateboard P, but the music speaks for itself –- this was a heist.

Alas, the case is not that simple. In the video, Everett says that during a dinner meeting with Q-Tip, the rapper asked for his opinion of the N*E*R*D frontman and mentioned that he's been "giving Pharrell music." Later that day, Everett discovers the Britney track on the internet that Pharrell produced, which closely resembles his own song.

This kind of thing would probably wouldn't matter to to two industry cats. Money or favors would be exchanged under the table and all would be forgotten. But Everett isn't that type of guy. He's built his career creating his own music and controlling it, while typical producers push buttons and wait for things to happen. P.E. is not the one to fool with and he let it be known.

But, let's put ourselves in Pharrell's ice cream shoes for a minute. Imagine you're a successful producer who's part of a team that's sold millions of records. You hear a
track from a relatively unknown producer and you like it. You remember how you came up, producing music with your friend and afterwards some guy named Edward Theodore Riley puts his name on it and takes credit. So you let a troubled pop star "sing" over the track and worry about the details later. It's a reasonable scenario that might have played out differently if Peven wasn't so sensitive about his sh*t.

Everett is currently at odds with 2/3 of the Glow In The Dark tour. He's also upset with Kanye West for some reason and has diss track aimed at the dropout on his myspace page.

Isn't there a six month waiting period after somebody's mama dies before you can diss them? I think it's part of the Geneva Convention.

Some Ol' Bullsh*t

After three posts about death and grieving, it might be time to lighten things up around here. Here's a street rehearsal from two of the Supa Friendz crew, Lonnie B. and Danja Mowf from 1998. The duo were about to perform without their somewhat famous third member at one of Richmond's popular nightspots.

The camera loses them a few times, I think I was laughing too hard. I have some scenes from the performance on tape as well. Drop me a note in the comments if you'd like to see them posted here.

Another reason I'm throwing this up is that I had to deal with some bullsh•t today. This little song reminds me I'm not alone.

The Other Brother

I had the unfortunate experience of telling a friend of the Levert family about the death of Sean Levert this week. The day after the singer's death, I was interviewing public intellectual Cornel West for my day job. Since I knew he had worked with Gerald Levert on one of his spoken word projects, I asked him for a comment about his brother Sean's passing. The skilled orator struggled to find his words. He hadn't heard the news.

I I read him the AP article as he listened in disbelief. I felt like the grim reaper as I transcribed his stunned reaction. I managed to work in one last question, but the conversation I had enjoyed was over. Nothing kills an interview like a death notice.

Breath Control

Screwball's KL died this week from asthma attack. Screwball was hard to the core and I loved their music from the first moment I heard it. The were like five Freddie Foxxes or M.O.P. at the end of a really bad week.

I saw them at the next-to-last Impact Convention in Miami. They were performing at a Tommy Boy party hosted by Prince Paul and were onstage when I walked in. It was an typical industry gig, with people milling around the club, glancing at the stage occasionally during lulls in conversation. They did a short set and closed with F.A.Y.B.A.N., a banger as politically incorrect as it is a heartfelt and justified. A lot went down in Miami that weekend, but this performance alone would've made my trip.

As a longtime asthma sufferer, I've always had a deep respect for the spitters in the game with this chronic disease. Rapping is all about breath control and for those of us with asthma, so is living.

Steady As She Goes

Of all the R&b songbirds to come out of the U.K. in the last years, Corinne Bailey Rae seemed the be one most likely to enjoy a long career. While Amy Winehouse and Lily Allen fought battles against themselves, Bailey-Rae kept putting out good music. She released an expanded edition of her self-titled debut with a handful of new songs, an Itunes exclusive live session EP and her voice graced songs by Amp Fiddler, Al Green, Herbie Hancock and Marcus Miller. She's also got some great covers of Justin Timberlake's "Sexy Back" (which she almost dignifies) and The Raconteurs "Steady, As She Goes," flowing through the internet tubes. You can also find her on tribute albums to Fats Domino, John Lennon and a planet earth.

Bailey Rae always seems to hit the mark just right. Even though the songs on her debut are all about being in love, the emotion she brings make each one seem like a singular expression. If there's a feeling I got about her after hearing the album, it was that this was a woman who loved her man.

Corinne Bailey Rae's husband was found dead in his apartment on Saturday. Jason Rae, 31, was a saxophonist who backed his wife, Amy Winehouse and Mark Ronson. Police are investigating his death and have charged a man with distributing controlled substances.

It doesn't take a therapist to figure out that Corinne Bailey Rae is probably devastated. If she grieves as hard as she loves, I hope she's being looked after by those close to her in this time. It's a tragic situation that will take time to overcome and process. For those of you who do that sort of thing, keep Corinne in your prayers. She may need our voices now.

More from the Left Coast

More from my brief visit to the West Coast back in '99. Warren G was also on the bill with Ghostface Killah at this party during the Billboard Music Video Conference in Santa Monica. Kelis, Blaque and Pink also performed. Kelis had just come out with her screaming song and Pink was just a white girl singing typical R&b and hadn't yet thought about flipping the "i" in her name upside down.

With the exception of Ghostface's performance, it was a typical industry concert, where the performers are largely ignored by record company people and their associates, who are too busy chatting to pay attention. The discussions continued throughout Warren G's performance and he let it be know that it wasn't unnoticed. The talking died down for a minute, but they eventual went back to doing what they do. Makes you wonder why they got into the business in the first place.

More Ghost for Your Face

Ghosts need to drink, too.

Another Shameless Promotion?

Back in 1999, I was introduced to a young lady at a music conference worked in video promotion. That was odd enough. After nearly 10 years in the game at that point, I thought I knew everybody. Yet, here was this person who I had never heard of who worked for a company who'd name I didn't know. I asked a couple of questions about her work and she wasn't forthcoming. The more I pried, the less she said and soon the person who introduced us was giving me that look.

Later, I found out what she and her company were up to. She was in video promotion, all right. The outfit she worked for, named after a popular condiment, performed a special service for record companies. They would make repeated calls to MTV's request line in support of the project of whichever label was paying them. They were able to move songs up the charts and appear more popular than they really were by plugging up the phone lines with dubious "requests." I was floored.

I was also very naive. When mentioned this practice to a friend at one of the West Coast's top rap labels. She mentioned she was doing something similar in her office. They were using a mentally retarded person who worked in the office to call video channels when he wasn't dumping wastebaskets.

When I read this morning that Youtube's most watched video ever( 89,750,739 views), a blogger-made clip for Cansei de Ser Sexy's "Music Is My Hot, Hot Sex," might have had its ranking inflated by "bots," it reminded me of what I learned about the inside of the promotions game. I can't say a record label or a saucy marketing company is behind this effort, but I'm sure they're taking notes.

Ghost in Santa Monica

There's one thing I 'll admit to missing about my days in the music business. The traveling. Free airfare, free hotel rooms and the occasional per diem, there's nothing like it. I managed to scrape together one out of those three of favorite things and that was enough to get me to the 1999 Billboard Music Video Awards in Santa Monica, CA.

At one of the parties associated the show, the bill was this: Blaque, Pink (this was before she started her punctuation fixation), Kelis, Warren G and Ghostface Killah. Since this was a video convention, the front of the stage looked like a paparazzi central.

Ghostface's partner in rhyme, Cappadonna would find himself out of the rap game and on the streets of Baltimore a couple years after this performance. He reportedly worked as cab driver for about a year before returning to the clan.

Skillz Wants Change, Too.

"Crazy World" is the latest single and video from Skillz taken from the perpetually forthcoming Koch Records debut "The Million Dollar Backpack." For some reason, Koch is treating the project like a heated seat cushion at Lambeau Field during the playoffs.

The veteran rapper is at his DIY-video best here, with an helpful assist from his fellow Virginians at Illusive Media. While not as BET-ready as his clip for the 2008 Wrap Up, its creativity and energy compensate fully, even without Skillz constant presence onscreen. The existence of this video magnifies his persistence and ingenuity, which is why he's still in the game.

A good buzz like this video creates only lasts so long. There needs to be a properly distributed Skillz CD in stores yesterday.

I've Seen the Future

Although he lived more than an hour away in Virginia Beach, everyone in Richmond was excited when Teddy Riley decided to move to the Old Dominion. At the time, he was a seasoned hit maker, who continued to be successful even after the demise of Guy, a group that changed the landscape of R&B in the nineties. He went on to make hits with two different versions of Blackstreet and nearly every important urban artist of that era. Even Michael Jackson came to Riley's studio, "The Future," tucked behind what was a office building and completely invisible from the road.

The latter details led me and a lighting tech to drive past the studio at least once back in 1994. We had been asked to film BLACKstreet singing Happy Birthday to the then-editor of a new magazine called Teen People. Finally, we found the path behind the building that led to the studio. It was remarkable how well-hidden and accessible this place was. We walked into the studio two steps and that was as far as we got. A security guard woofed loudly, "Take off your shoes." We put our shoes in a pile of footwear on the plush beige carpet and stood there a few minutes before the diminutive Riley appeared. He said we would be doing the shoot on the tour bus, so we could wait outside. That was my five minutes in The Future.

Riley came onto the bus with a business associate that he was giving a tour. The man was well-dressed, didn't seem to know much about the music business, but acted like he had some money. He nodded knowing when the producer discussed his political dilemma of as traditionally voting for democrats, like good black folk, when it was really republicans who looked out for wealthy people like them.

The bus had a recording studio in the back, which was revolutionary back then. Riley explained that he used naval engineers to build the sound proofing so the rattle and hum of the steel horse didn't disturb his grooves. We were impressed.

We weren't on the bus long when the other members of BLACKstreet began to arrive. They assembled at the back of the bus and ran through the birthday song twice while we filmed. After the first take, Riley finished the song with some ad-libs about the editor of Teen People, who none of us knew. He then made sure I rewound the tape (he insisted on looking into the eye piece) and went over it with the next shot. After we broke everything down, I stepped back into The Future to hand off the tape to his assistant, but I kept my shoes on.

Future now
Yesterday, I noticed this article about Riley's former studio. I knew that his fortunes had taken a downturn lately, so I wasn't surprised to see the old place for sale. I'm sure its sure full of state of the art technology like CRT monitors, DAT machines, ultra-clean carpet and probably a couple of cassette decks. For Teddy Riley, the present caught up with The Future.

photo Vicki Cronis-Nohe | The Virginian-Pilot

Will Says Yes

Say what you will about Will.I.Am. I know I do. He dresses funny. He turned his cutting edge hip hop group into a radio-friendly pop construct, led by a pretty white girl. He recent solo album tanked and he gave Nas a reheated beat for his title track, "Hip Hop is Dead," confirming the premise of that concept album.

But deep down, Will is a down-ass brotha. Even when he makes predictable pop records, he sometimes laces them politically astute messages, something your average rock star is afraid to do. The music of the Black Eyed Peas these days isn't hip hop, but their stage performance, with their well-rehearsed choreography and energetic vocals may be the closest thing to it.

So, I wasn't surprised to see that Will chopped up Obama's New Hampshire speech, added a guitar, a piano and a few of friends to make a inspiring political statement. Unlike Diddy's ill-conceived "Vote or Die campaign," Will's work realizes political action is more than a fad or gimmick. It may start in the voting booth for some of us, but it shouldn't end there.

On this morning after the defeat of football juggernaut by team of misfits led by a young man many said wasn't ready for the job, Will's message is powerful strong.
I'm almost ready to believe that BEP can make another decent album, which they haven't done in years. Yes I am.

Wayne of Error

Lil Wayne visited our city this weekend, arriving for his concert at the time it was scheduled to end. Newspaper reports say he was booed after performing two songs and leaving the stage. Upon his return ... well, take a look at the above video.

I know I'm an aging rap nerd and ultimately not the target audience for this type of act. But damn.

The Industry Made 'em Do It.

After a couple of ill-received efforts that had some fans asking, "Are We Done Yet?,"Ice Cube has apparently resumed his rap career. He's back with a street song about culture commentators who hold gangsta rap music responsible for airthang that's wrong in America. He used some of that movie star money lens a provocative video, making use of graphic news clips coupled with stripped down performance scenes.

Maybe that's the new formula for aging rappers. Download some stock footage, rap in front of an empty background and drop it on the youtubes. Seems to be working for the guy in the post below. Don't let me see Father MC next week, rhyming in front of posterboard with clips from the evening news thrown in. It's too early in the year for that type of sh•t.

But wait. O'shea isn't just ripping critics. He ends "Gangstar Rap Made Me Do It," with a diss to rappers who appear to talk shows to discuss gangsta rap, but aren't gangsta rappers themselves. When he delivers this coda, clips of Oprah Winfrey appear on the screen. Now, who did Oprah have on her show about gangsta rap ... oh, yeah. Common. O'Shea, maybe you forgot, but you don't want it with this guy - again. If Lonnie Lynn gets wind of this, it won't be all peace, love and Gap. Hope you still have the minster on speed dial.

Like he always does at this time.

Lest old acquaintances be forgot ... Here's the Chris Robinison-directed video for Skillz's annual recap of 2007. 

It's been a long time.

Next year, I'm taking this blog to the next level. I'm hopeful that the results of my work will be greater than those of the 148 rappers who used that phrase on my show.

Here' s a clip from from Digital Underground offshoot, Raw Fusion in the meantime. See you in 2008.

Fed-ex Crack

Temptation never fades for those of us in recovery. The lure of the so-called good times never stops it tug on our consciousness, even when we know better. Just one more time, we think to ourselves, it'll be different - we can handle it. It's been said that the only way to get control of an addiction is to admit that you're powerless to stop it.

My moment of weakness came in the mail last week. I still maintain the business address for Wavelength, and occasionally music videos trickle in from companies who don't update their mailing lists. Usually, it's nothing I'm interested in and they sit unwatched for weeks until I can get to the thrift store. Last week, however, they were three videos, all of them for music that I don't hate. I looked at the DVDs resting in their slim cases and shining under the lights of the Mailbox and Packaging Center. Three videos, I thought to myself. With just two more, I could have a show. I could use some old videos, create some kind of excuse, I mean theme, to air them with the fresh clips. I kept programming the show in my mind while I walked to the parking lot and the plotting continued well into my ride home.

I had a moment of clarity at a stoplight on Mechanicsville Turnpike. Suddenly, I was ashamed for spending the last half-hour of my life pondering a return to television. There are so many other things in my life to consider and prepare for and there I was daydreaming about taking one giant leap backwards. I couldn't continue to entertain the possibility of such a mistep /. It was time to move on. The light was green.

It Came from 1992 Pt. 2 or Illegal Search

So there we were, four young black males, shivering beside the interstate in northern Virginia as the po-lice illegally searched our car. The high of hanging with the hip-hop elite at the rap conference had fallen off fast as we watched two troopers turn a Thunderbird inside out. When one of them held up a pistol he found beneath the driver's seat, I thought our long night was just beginning.
"It's a b.b. gun," the driver said.
The officer considered the weapon with his flashlight and offered, "If someone pointed this at me, I'd shoot 'im."
After a moment of silence, the search ended and they let us off with a couple of smart remarks. As we carefully rode along at 55 mph, the mood in the car shifted. The warm vibes were replaced by cold reality as race and civil rights drove our in-car discussion. We debated whether the search should have been "allowed" and the reasoning for carrying an air pistol in your vehicle. Moments before the stop, we were thinking about our future in the music and television business, now we were content with getting home.
My association with this show ended a few week after this shoot. They continued to produce "Soundwave," their program, as I jump-started Wavelength. We wouldn't be friends again, but we'll always have the connection of shared experience.

It came from 1992 - Hip-Hop at Howard University Pt. 1

While I waited for Wavelength (the video show that landed me here in VJ rehab) to gather momentum, I continued to assist with the production of another video show. I had worked with these guys for about a year and we had been through all of the ups and downs typically associated with a neighborhood garage band: egos, arguments, disappointments and rare moments of cohesion. It was one drama after another, but like a soap opera, it was hard to turn away and it seemed the story would go on forever.

Eventually things came to head and we went our separate ways. I would love to paint myself as the O'Shea Jackson of this situation, but perhaps that's not as accurate as I would like it to be. For the short time our shows were on the air together, there was some on-air static and a competitive vibe that drove both of our productions. Nobody got hurt and we're all cool now, as far as I know.

In February of 1992, before the separation, we took our one and only road trip. We attended the Hip Hop Conference at Howard University, sponsored by a group called The Cultural Initiative. It was a very progressive thought at the time, that hip-hop could be discussed and debated at a university. We packed the co-host's Thunderbird with A.J.'s gear and hit the road.

Shortly after we arrived, we realized how well-attended and serious this conference was. Rappers were walking the campus, in the hallways and hanging out in the parking lot. Some of them actually showed up for the panel discussions on sampling, commercial rap music and the role of hip-hop publications. I saw Tim Dog, Sen Dog, B Real, Marly Marl, Jam Master Jay, Posdnous, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Organised Konfusion and Sister Souljah. It was a great day for hip hop and for getting drops for low-budget video shows. The way back home wouldn't be as fresh.

We, four black men in a speeding Thunderbird with tinted windows, were stopped by police on I-95. I think they may have been state troopers, but I don't recall what state they were from, it was dark. They got us out of the car and asked us if we had any "drugs, paraphernalia or loose women." We amused them with our claim that we were in the television business. I would recall this unfortunate moment years later, as I watched Robert Townsend's mythical quintet forced to perform a roadside concert by racist cops at the Southgate Cinemas.

We stood on the side of interstate in the cold darkness as they began to search our vehicle without permission. I knew I was clean, but I didn't know what someone else might be holding. Things grew tense as one of the show's hosts grew impatient with the police action. They continued despite his protest, while we all shot him the shut-the-fuk-up look. Then, one of the troopers emerged from the driver's side holding a gun by the trigger guard with a pen. I think he said something dramatic and original, like "What do we have here?"

Part 2 ... posted upon sufficient request.

I Just Can't Live With My Radio

There's one move I'm glad I never made in my days in the music industry. Radio. It was tempting, though. I knew the music, the artists and owned a pocket full of fame. There was certainly more money, prestige and perks to be had. But I knew I could never conform to the rigid parameters imposed on the modern day disc jockey. Say your name. Give the time. Call Letters. On to the next song. Not me. I need to tell you what I think before I play what I want you to hear.

In radio, the personality of a DJ is kept in check, while some of the P.D.s and G.M.s, enjoy exerting their strong personality traits on record promoters, local artists and their staff. It's funny to watch a radio exec get drunk on the power that a corporation has allowed them to hold momentarily and funnier still to see the look on their faces when they realize it doesn't last forever.

Another thing about radio. The music sucks, and they know it, too. The men and women picking and playing records at radio today are of the generation that witnessed the golden era of hip hop. They know a good record when they hear it, but they seldom have the nerve to play it. Radio's become a corrupt, moribund medium that's lost any kind of real connection to the needs of the community it claims to serve.

I was reminded of the best non-move I ever made when I picked up a copy of what my grandfather used to call The Black Dispatch tonight. The first FM station to play hip hop in Richmond, Va. , Power 921, gutted its staff, firing longtime personalities Stress, Rosetta Devine and the Bad Boyz. I listen to the radio just enough in the last few years to know who the latter couple is. I'm sure their games and gimmicks will transfer easily to another market and they'll be missed here, for however long a dedicated radio listener with a short attention span does that kind of thing.

Stress and Rosetta Devine however, have strong ties to the community and have been a part of Power 92 for a long time. The sound of their voices meant you were in capable, experienced hands. I didn't listen Power that often and I'm still shaking off the shock.

I guess after a three quarters of getting trounced by the competition, something had to give. Ties were severed, changes were made and the beat goes on. It's not personal, its radio.

After having my TV own show, I couldn't imagine someone stopping me from doing something I love, abruptly and without warning. I stopped Wavelength when I wanted to and on my own terms. DJs never get to say good-bye.

Shootwhutyulike

In 1997, Digital Underground were well into the downswing of their career. After four records on Tommy Boy with diminishing results, they came to Alley Katz in Richmond promoting a independent release called "Who Got The Gravy." The club was nearly as empty as a bag of chips at Aretha Franklin's crib.

It wasn't normally a hip hop spot, and the event could've been promoted better, so the small turnout wasn't all a reflection of D.U.'s declining significance.
The band didn't stop us from filming, so we shot until the tape ran out. I had another SVHS stashed for the interview, but that didn't happen. Money B told us that Shock was tired and didn't feel like it. This was around the time when he was doing a lot of drug talk, on stage he mentioned "some ecstasy on the tour bus" and he had recently given a revealing interview with XXL about his experiences with illegal substances. I mentioned the article to Shock after the show and he said the interview was upsetting as he had assumed that some of what he told the reporter was off the record.

Despite the half-empty club, Digital put on a devastating show and left the with something to remember and those close enough to the front got something take home.

Never Can Say Goodbye

The rumors of my release from the DBC are less than true. The lack of activity here and reports like this one, (scroll down, it's there) may have led you to assume I've finally made sense of it all, but that's not the case.

Over the last few weeks, I've been dismantling what remains of my video production company. After nearly ten years of treading water, it's time to let this part of my life float away. This ain't easy. It's like pulling the plug on a dying relative or putting your childhood pet to sleep. Saying goodbye is hard, as those boys from Philly sang.

Once everything is given away or sold, I'll be left with the tapes. Boxes and boxes of music videos. I have hundreds of these these, many are on the the antiquated format of 3/4 inch tape, which have made them a hindrance to transfer and forces me to cling onto bulky U-Matic machine to view them. The music video industry eventually moved to mini dv, which is less of a hassle to transport, but my collection is so huge, they're still in the way.

Should I hold on to these things? I've considering digitizing airthang and recycling the media, but that project never seems to get moving. I wish there was a hip hop museum I could bequeath my archive to. Maybe one day.

Until I find a home for my analog archive, it'll stay right here with me, next to the rap music and lies.

A Salute to Captain Video

There's a crucial part of the music video industry called video promotion. In the early days of Wavelength, a 3/4 video delivered in the mail would be followed up with a call from a video promoter asking when you were going to play it. If you decided to add the video to your playlist, you could expect additional calls, which usually led to a sense of familiarity and kinship. Some of these people worked at record labels, but many of them were independent contractors, slinging Nas one week and Home Team the next.

Mark Weinstein was one of these independent promoters. He ran a company called RNR Freelance, which at one time was one of the largest of its kind. He and his staff were experienced and knowledgeable about the music and artists they hocked, two qualities that were undervalued at similar outfits. At least three of his employees had done time in established rock bands and Mark had been involved in hip-hop video since the days of UTFO. He was a staunch advocate for local and regional video shows, fighting for us in places we couldn't get to. He also wrote for The Source, back when it was readable, under the name "Captain Video." He was one of the music men.

The word "promoter" has some negative connotations. I have certainly encountered a few who were ethicly-challenged. Let's keep it real, Don King is a promoter. I didn't know Mark well enough to vouch for his moral upstanding, but do remember that if someone at his company promised something, they tried to make it happen. Concert tickets, vinyl, t-shirts, advertising, interviews or whatever else I badgered them for, I usually got it. Except for that "Warm It Up," twelve inch by Kriss Kross. But I've forgot all about that, really.

I got a call from one of Mark's former employees this week, telling me that Mark died on Monday. The circumstances regarding his death are unclear and rumors are circulating, as they often do in these situations.

Industry folk in New York will gather next week to remember Mark Weinstein, a true music man who earned his rank.

Wrath of the Damaja

Artie Jefferson, the owner of the record store where this interview with Jeru the Damaja took place, was known to share his theories about artist development. I recall he and I discussing some of the thematic elements of "The Sun Rises In The East," and he said something I never forgot.

"You've got you're whole life to make that first album," he said, and then explained that coming up with another one within a shorter time frame was a challenge some new artists weren't up to.

I can't say whether Jeru's second record was rushed, but it didn't have the impact of his debut. Soon afterwards, he fell out with the Gangstarr foundation, which left him without the signature sound of DJ Premier and a association with recognized movement that's a prerequisite for rappers today.

On his second record, Jeru had the audacity to confront the forces that threatened the artistic integrity of the music he loved, while other rappers were either complicit with their silence or going with the flow. Jeru continues to fight the good fight on independent releases, but the damage is done.

My 25. Finally.

I know I'm late with this, but my access to the internets is restricted at the DBC, outside of these mandatory posts. My tardiness can't be argued, but my choices are up for discussion.

1. It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back/Public Enemy
Conceptually sound, impeccable production and powerful lyricism. I memorized every word, sample and sound of this record. I might still know it, too.

2. 3 Feet High and Rising/De La Soul
A groundbreaking declaration of individuality and creativity. The album proved that its okay to be different, as long as you're dope.

3. Amerikkka's Most Wanted/Ice Cube
Anchored by Bomb Squad production, Ice Cube make one of the edgiest records of his time. Nothing set me off like hearing these songs back in the day.

4. Black Star/Mos Def and Talib Kwelli
Indisputable proof that real hip hop can still be made, if you're willing to try.

5. Ilmatic/Nas
Perfect poetry and production from hip hop's greatest beat makers. No one tells a story like Nas.

6. Bazerk Bazerk Bazerk/Son of Bazerk
I've already written a lot about this group on this site. The most explosive release of the '90s.

7. Criminal Minded/BDP
KRS-One's voice was the primary instrument of the minimalist production of BDP's debut. His timing, inflection and emphasis are impeccable. The politics and philosophy were often confusing, but that only made things more interesting.

8. The Cactus Album/3rd Bass
Deadly serious and seriously funny at the same time. The best hip-hop duo, pre-Outkast.

9. De La Soul is Dead/De La Soul
A skillful reinvention complete with a read along storybook. I listened to this so much, the lyrics became part of my everyday conversation. Sometimes this manifests at inopportune moments, like when we group last week, and there was a debate over seating arrangements, and I said "I'm Hemroid! I'm the leader!"

10. Hard to Earn/Gangstarr
Consistently indestructible beats and rhymes. It took a guy from Boston and another from Texas to make some of the best NY hip hop ever.

11. And The Winner Is .../Chubb Rock and Hitman Howie T
Chubb Rock's compelling delivery belies his intelligence and sharp sense of humor: "Some artists mix me with go-go/Def lyrics but it sounds so-so. Howie T's production chops were at their apex here and the Chubbster was in rare form.

12. Young Black Teenagers/Young Black Teenagers
The Bomb Squad and four guys rapping at once, none of them black or in their teens. That's keeping it real. The Bomb Squad nearly outdid themselves here, giving the YBT a potent sonic landscape that matched frustration and rage of their lyrics.

13. All Hail the Queen/Queen Latifah
One of the best releases from the Native Tongue collective. The Queen rapped and sang over beats from hip hop's A-List of producers with gratifying results. The chorus of Wrath of My Madness still haunts me. What is she saying?

14. Straight Out The Jungle/Jungle Brothers
I really got into this after the Native Tongue had begun. I was aware of it when it came out and I was attracted to their laid back style. This was an innovative record that launched a musical movement and the first rap hybrid - hip-house.

15. Blue Funk/Heavy D
The Heavster didn't make this one for the ladies who loved Keith Sweat and Bobby Brown. Blue Funk, with production from Pete Rock, DJ Premier, was for the heads. Classic material.

16. Sex Packets/Digital Underground
The closest any hip-hop group got to the conviction and spirit of P-Funk. Shock G came with dual identities, tales of fictitious sex drugs and everything on the one. I still have my ticket stub from Gutfest '89.

17. Outkast/Aquemini
Hip-Hop's most consistent duo proved they were here to stay with their third solid release. The ultimate Oukast record is tainted only by the ungroovable "Mamacita."

18. Brand Nubian/One For All
Politics, religion and social commentary over phat loops and inspired production. Puba, Derek X and Lord Jamar's relaxed deliveries made making a classic look real easy.

19. Eric B & Rakim/Follow the Leader
Rakim's verbal dexterity grew more complex on their second album. The instrumental tracks, a rap rarity these days, were needed to digest Ra's vigorous wordplay and furious styles.

20. Run-DMC/Raising Hell
This record is so full of timeless tracks, it sounds like a compilation of hits. Raising Hell was a landmark moment for hip hop, after "Walk This Way," there could be no turning back.

21. The Notorious B.I.G./Ready to Die
Radio friendly hip hop with a street edge from Brooklyn's finest. This record would be the blueprint for any rapper dreaming of commercial success. But nobody could do it like Biggie.

22. Dr. Dre/The Chronic
The Doctor prescribed a heavy dose of funk, replaying the sounds of soul hits interspersed with the original voices. Rhymes from Snoop Dogg and humor from the D.O.C. made this operation a success. Dre created a professional reputation with this record that remains unshakable. However, his personal reputation ... let's just say were it not for Dre, the would be no DBC.

23. Pharcyde/Bizarre Ride II the Pharcyde
The Pharcyde rapped songs about lost love, regret, drugs and ya mama. J Swift's production on this record was jazz-influenced by it's samples and spontaneity. It was the roller coaster ride the record cover promised, thrilling from end to end.

24. Redman/Whut? Thee Album
Redman introduced the WTFF factor to hip hop. He steered clear of preset categories of rap music and created a lane for himself, with fearless approach to making songs. He even freaked in Korean.

25. A Tribe Called Quest/The Low End Theory
The promise of "People's Instinctive Travel ..." was fufilled on this release. The sounds were sparse, yet more effective and integral to the work as a whole. Phife came into his own as Q-Tip continued to perform at the top of his game.

Anyone surprised?

Redman: Exploited on TV

Reggie Noble lit up the Phono Booth during his second visit to the store in 1995, in more ways than one. He kept things moving fast, but my capable co-host Dre was up for the challenge.

Enjoy Redman at his illest, as he critiques the music industry, explains his idea of success and ridicules our audio equipment.

P.S.The microphone used in this interview went on to bigger and better things.

Moments of Truth Pt. 2

Outside of Public Enemy, Gangstarr was my favorite rap group. Peep my myspace handle. Their formula never changed from record to record, but it was enhanced and updated with each release.
They remain one of the most consistent duos in hip hop, even if they're taking a break from each other right now.

The first part of the interview was posted in November of 2006.

Part 2.

CRAIG: How did you get the idea to put jazz in a rap record?

PRIMO: Well, I use anything that's funky ... It ain't even about bein' funky. We have to make it funky. It could be a sample that just fits the atmosphere of what we're doin'. It could be jazz, R&B, soul, rock, classical, anything that has a that type of sound, that sounds like a Gangstarr vibe, I use. There's a lot of jazz elements in a lot of our songs, but the intent is not to try to do jazz rap or try to just use jazz samples. I use anything that just sounds fly.

CRAIG: Okay.

PRIMO: If I rub your hat, and it sounds fly, I'm a loop it. You know what I'm sayin'? Like "Just to get a rep." Good example. That wasn't jazz that I sampled, but when you heard it, it has sort of a scary type of a bass line, a haunting type of a track. The way he told a story, it went together, the way he said it, the music had that little eerie type of feelin'. Same way with "Take It Personal." They way he sounds like he's angry about situations, it's like a creepin' up on ya track, the piano sounds like its comin' out of the woodworks and shit. Oh, Excuse my language.

CRAIG: "Take it Personal" sounds angry. Was there anything you were angry about? It's a very specific record.

GURU: It's specific. I mean, everybody has feelings like that. Some people say 'don't take it personal,' I'm sayin' take it personal. If you have a so-called friend, and they backstab you, you don't feel like 'don't take it personal.' You feel like Take it Personal.' When I see you I'm gonna be be mad, so don't say nothin' to me or we gonna be fightin or whatever. I'm sayin' –

PRIMO: Like you and your man right here, if y'all believe in each other and what y'all are doin', if all of a sudden he don't come through or – Say he took the camera, not sayin' you go'n do it my man, say he took the camera, took the film, and sold it to CBS or somethin' to air, and you'd be sittin here goin', 'I can't believe that!' Instead of just sayin' "Damn!" to yourself, I'm sure you want to have feelings of "Man, I wanna get back to him, for what he did, 'cause he really hurt me here, (Primo thumps his chest.) When it's someone that you really believe in and trust, it hurts here, when they actually backstab you. And that was one opinion in the song. There were three different opinions. The second verse was about sampling, about how we hate how people are blowing the sampling thing out of proportion. We feel the same way Stet and Kane said back in the day, if we didn't bring back alive old beats, you wouldn't survive.

CRAIG: Would you consider working with R&B artists?

PRIMO: It really depends on what the song is about. The song, the subject matter the artist, it all has to go like a hand and glove.

CRAIG: Anything else y'all wanna say?

GURU: I just wanna say keep watchin'' this program. 'Cause they got the real stuff, underground hip hop at its best.

PRIMO: Be yourself, be yourself, be yourself, Know yourself. Much respect to these brothers right here, yo, cameraman too, film yourself real quick, man.

MAURICE: I got a question.

PRIMO: The cameraman has a question, hold up.

MAURICE: DJ Premier, I want to know, other than yourself, who is the best dj out there?

PRIMO: I got a few. I like Jam Master Jay, my main man DJ Scratch form EPMD, that's my boy. Richie Rich from 3rd Bass, Mister C, Grandmaster Flash, Jazzy Jay, aw, it's too many. DST, Grand Wizard Theodore, Tat Money with Kwame, Miz, DJ Alladin, DJ Muggs, Baby G from Dallas, it's so many man. Flamboyant, Plastic Man ... aw man, I know I missed some. Steve D from Harlem, that brother's nasty, Chill Will and Barry B. It's a lot of good DJ out there. Whoever I missed, I know what's up, but my brain is on the gin and tonic tip right now. Peace out and much love to all you black people out there. Peace.

A Bag and a Prayer

Preparing for a live broadcast of Wavelength was a soothing ritual I relished almost as much as the show itself. Hours before we went on, I picked out the videos from my ginormous collection of 3/4 and VHS tapes. Three quarter inch tapes, if you haven't seen one, about the size of 5 subject notebook and usually encased in a hard plastic case. They were awkward and unwieldy, but very durable. After I scripted the show, I filled my official Chicago Bears duffel bag with the tapes, usually in the same order they were on my playlist.

This was a very special bag. I got it for cheap at my day job at Burlington Coat Factory. It had a plastic bottom, a side pocket and two spacious compartments with a large C printed on both ends. The videos went in the middle of the bag, my clipboard, cassette giveways, tape recorder stashed on the ends. I couldn't have designed a better bag for what I needed. Well, I guess if it was Steelers bag, it would've been perfect.

So one day I was driving in Churchill went it struck me that I hadn't brought my bag into the house after the show. I pulled over at a gas station and opened the trunk of my '76 Camaro. The bag was gone. All my music videos, scripts, equipment were now missing in action. I drove home feeling somewhat less than whole.

It didn't take me long to determine what I done. I had brought my bag out of the studio, set it down to open the car door and left in in the middle of street. I was always forgetting little things back then, but this time I had really done it.

I moped around for a few days, considering ways to get the labels to resend the videos. It wouldn't be easy, as the tapes were heavy and shipping was expensive. I thought about the cost of replacing the lost equipment and the sentimental value of some of the things I carelessly left in the street. Days passed and hopes of being reunited with my bag began to fade.

I was walking out the door one day when my mother, may God rest her soul, told me something that stopped me cold. She said she had prayed that I someone would find my bag and return it to me. I was embarrassed she had taken my pitiful case to such a high court and I wasn't even sure I deserved my bag back.

After a week without my bag and my usual swagger, I got a call from a regional vice-president of Coca-Cola Bottling. He had found my bag in the street the night after my show, but didn't have time to track me down because his vacation started the following day. Immeasurable relief swelled over me, a feeling I didn't allow myself to anticipate.

When I told my mom, she smiled and said "I told you."

Every hero needs one

In a classic film from the 1980s, the protagonist returns home after a stint in the armed forces to find his old neighborhood in shambles. With his military knowledge, and a little help from his friends, he rids the streets of criminals and gangsters. He even gets the girl. But he can't walk off into the sunset until he gets what every good hero needs ... a theme song.

So imagine my excitement when I learned that a local rap group, The Soul of Brotherhood, had completed the Wavelength theme music. It was moment of validation for all the work we had put in over the years. We knew we were the sht, but it was good to hear somebody else say it.

Lil Roc's verses about our program stand as a historical record of who we were at that time. In under two minutes he touches on our content, our competition and the rescheduling of the Arsenio Hall show that sealed its fate.

This audio deserves some video and will get its proper tribute at some point. For now, here's our song.

p.s. Five points to anyone who can name the movie I'm talking about.

p.s.s. Answers must be submitted as comments on this post. Points are not redeemable outside of the U.S.

The First Cut is the Deepest

L Leshaun cut an imposing figure in 1993, a tall and muscular woman in dark glasses and door knockers, standing in a b-boy stance. She entered our television studio arguing with her road manager and she remained combative for the entirety of her brief visit with us. As I prepped the television studio, I was relieved that Dre had volunteered for this one.

As I was cuing up her video, her mood shifted and things got worse. Apparently, her record label had ordered an edit of her "Ready or Not" clip, one that she wasn't aware of until that moment. She went off on her road manager again, but that wasn't enough. She called her label from the studio, and gave them some too.

Dre tried to get her to talk about a recent THE SOURCE article about female rappers, but she cut him off and vented about her label and the male-dominated rap industry. Some of her points still ring true today, as female rappers are more scarce than ever and are finding success hard to earn.

Tommy Boy and her road manger weren't the last people to learn that Leshaun didn't take disrespect lying down. Years later, when LL Cool J redid her hit, "Wild Thang," (redubbed "Doin' It") he used her voice, but left her out of the video. She wasn't cool with that and let it be known. Eventually, they recorded another song together. Somewhere along the way, I guess Leshaun learned the art of negotiation.

Ray "Coach" Brown 1935-2007

I met Ray Brown when I was scouting locations for a shoot for Impact magazine. I was looking for a boxing ring and I heard that Citywide Boxing Club had a good look. It was a hollowed out warehouse, complete with a loading dock and a porta-john. It was perfect. After some negotiation, Coach let me use the space on a Sunday for a few hours, for a $100. I had pleaded poverty, but he stood firm. When the day came, he slept while we shot the promo, occasionally opening his eyes for playback. The spot came out decent and I heard it was well received at the Impact convention, which I never made it to. (That's another post.)

A few weeks later, I heard that Coach wanted to speak with me. I stopped by the gym, and after some kidding about my Alma mater, a frank assessment of my potential as a fighter, he told me what he wanted. He needed a video made about what he did at the gym. He told me how the boxing club worked, young kids paid what they could, while he taught them about boxing, giving them purpose and guidance. Then he asked me to do it for free. I told him I needed $100. Coach wasn't trying to hear that. He repeated my offer to his employees with incredulity in his voice. After a few minutes of staring and loud talk, we shook hands. I came back with my camera the following week.

After a couple of edits, he was happy with the video. I was touched by the devotion and admiration his boxers had for him. They accepted his instructions without question and carried them out with conviction. Coach told me later that he sent the tape somewhere and it was shown at a banquet where he received an award. We shook hands again and enjoyed mutual respect.

I saw Coach occasionally after that and filmed one of his fighters matches at a boxing competition. I stopped by to see him a few times, but I kept missing him by minutes. One day, one of his assistants at the gym told me he had fallen down and wouldn't be around for awhile. Several months later, I visited again and met his son. He told me his Dad was ill and seldom came to the gym. The look on his face told me whatever Coach was going through was serious. I asked him to tell his father that Craig from VCU said hello.

Last week, on the back of sports page of our daily paper there was picture of Coach below the headline Local Boxing Patron Dies It wasn't a good start to my morning.

Ray Brown may have never produced a Sweet Pea Whitaker or a Ray Leonard, but he provided leadership and direction to people who needed it. He didn't have to coach a champion to become one.

Big Shug's Real Talk

In 1996, at the Phono Booth Record Store, Big Shug gave Wavelength one of the most personal and revealing interviews we ever recorded. For some reason, we never aired it.

I'm not sure what happened. But now, 11 years later, it's time to hear what Shug, a founding member of Gangstarr, had to say.