Calling All Hip-Hop Heads!!

Mainstream hip-hop is dead, at least to most of us over the age of 30. We hip-hop heads have fled to a thriving underground where, thanks to the internet and word of mouth, we are enjoying life and are listening to good beats and thought provoking lyrics—some actual meaning. I miss when this was the norm.

I haven't done a post like this in a while. It's just my little way of saying "thank you" to the folks who give us great music to reflect on, stir our creativity, mellow us out, hype us up, whatever we need it to do.

For today's homage, I'm taking it back, sharing three oldies (but goodies) that have made me wish that I was living in NYC in the 90s and able to travel locally to see these dudes perform these "joints" in person. Just wish I could have been in the crowd, soaking up that energy.

Jeru the Damaja



KRS-One



De La Soul

I'm In Love Again....Yes, This is About Music

I want to introduce you to Stalley. I'm "feeling him" right now. I first heard him on a track with Curren$y called "Address" and was very intrigued by his beard, his smooth flow, and calm delivery. His rhymes made sense. And so I listened. Tonight, I found myself in need of something to mellow me out. I have a project I'm working on and needed something to put in the mood. Not for love or romance, but to help me interpret the written word. I went looking for Stalley and to my surprise found some good tracks to share. He seems to be a conscious thinker, which I love, and his producer has found the right beats to accompany his style.
[Editor's note: Stalley, are you single? If not, will you consider becoming my husband? Let's talk offline. Thanks in advance.]

Here's "Wet Dreams," in which he asks his love interest what she can do for him besides turn him on physically. Wow, not just taking what's offered, but asking, "what else can you do?"





And here's "Babblin," where he visits New Orleans to commemorate the 5th anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. He's accompanied by Jay Electronica and Curren$y, who both rep the Crescent City and are two of my faves.




Don't worry, I'll be back with some more musings of an editor, writer, and storyteller. I'm tied up this week with something though, but I will deliver to you.

Thanks for visiting, and if you're a lover of hip-hop, show my man Stalley some love.

Give This Dude Some Love, Won't You Please.

I found another gem. No, he's not a hip-hop artist. This young man is a contemporary violinist who goes by the name of Daniel D. This is his cover to Billie Jean. He sounds great. I absolutely admire the dedication and skill it takes to learn to play and later perfect a musical instrument. I want to learn to play the piano, and one day I will. I have a few songs in mind that I want to hear myself play. I just love music, and wanted to share Daniel D. with you. (I'm sure his family is so proud of him. I know I am.) Enjoy, and check out his other videos as well on YouTube.

KanKick: Oh My God What I Have Been Missing?

Hello, gentle readers. Right now my ears are experiencing a type of auditory pleasure that is both rare and inspiring.

Excuse me for a moment, I think I hear something.....Is that one of my characters calling out for me? Ronald? Oh hey baby, hold on I'm coming, just let me finish this post. I last left you on the edge of your bed, didn't I?

Let me hurry this up, Ronald awaits. He comes when a delicious melody begins to court me.

So, I'm listening to a fellow by the name of KanKick. Remember the guy I mentioned in the other post who introduced me to Asheru? Well he also told me to check out a guy called KanKick who was pretty good. I wrote the name down, but it slipped my mind. Until tonight. Today was one of those days where I wanted nothing more than to hurry to the security of my home, lock the door, and not leave until I absolutely had to. I blew off a networking event tonight at a trendy spot where the area's "BUPs" (black urban professionals) like to hang out and impress each other. I wanted to be alone with Jennifer, to talk to her, listen to her. Just "do me" as they say. I have a lot on my mind these days. Mainly the future, what should I do next, what life is trying to tell me. Stuff like that. I arrived home to find another shingle had escaped from my roof (they've been sliding off for about two months now, causing me great anxiety). Discovering it pitifully hanging on my fence so that I would notice it immediately seemed like an appropriate ending to "just one of those days." So as I pondered the journey of finding a reliable contractor to climb atop my roof and hopefully not take advantage of me, I reached for my nightly comfort. YouTube. After listening to Jeru the Damaja kill his verse in "Return of the Crooklyn Dodgers," I remembered KanKick.

And oh boy.Let's just say that right now I'm feeling sooo much better. The day is now a memory, this whole week really. So I grabbed my cell phone and was planning to snap a pic of myself for this post, but they all looked terrible. Cell phone pics make me look fat, or should I say, don't hide it. So I said screw this, I'm going to make a video instead. Narcissistic videos are all the rage now, so I figured I'd give it a try too. Of course the quality is awful and I look better than what this video is claiming, but oh well. I'm posting it anyway. It's so odd to hear my own voice and see my facial expressions. I don't get to see myself like this.

So here's me listening to KanKick's "Deleting Programs" featuring God's Gift. Don't laugh too hard at me. It's my first time, OK?

"Yo, Hip Hop is My Lady'" - Asheru

I met a fellow hip-hop head recently (a guy), and honestly can't recall the last time I felt so excited and rejuvenated. Talking about my favorite artists and songs, and getting introduced to others I was unfamiliar with. It reminded me how important music is to my soul and the spirit. I rarely meet people who I vibe with like that, and it felt nice. To talk about Curren$y, Count Bass D, Top Quality, Tribe Called Quest, and so many others. I hate to say it, but I think I’ve been spoiled from here on out. It’s going to be hard to meet guys and have the typical boring DC conversation of what I've accomplished; where to find the best networking organizations; how great it is to be a black urban professional; what school I went to; and of course, my job. I had gotten so used to that, and knew I was bored, just not how much. Creative spirits who are as moved by music as much as me is a rare find. Until I met this particular guy and got turned on to Asheru, among a few others. To my surprise, Asheru’s from the DC area, and has my mind gone. I’ve been jamming to him for a few days now and can’t stop. Though me and this guy’s paths only crossed temporarily, I’m so appreciative of the opportunity to share something I love with someone again. Be it music, food, travel, literature, history, or gardening, it’s so important to find someone with whom you can share your passion. It creates a bond so powerful that it supersedes the on-the-surface superficiality we impose on our prospective partners. Would you say you agree?

So, as someone did for me, allow me to introduce you to Asheru. He’s certainly not new, he’s been around for a while, and is the voice behind the Boondock’s theme song. My favorites of his are “Think About,” “Soul,” and “Dear You.”







If you’re a hip-hop head and have stumbled across this, please leave a comment and post some other artists who I need to give a listen to. I just got an ipod and am ready to load it up with as much as I can.

Will They Reminisce Over You?

So as you know by now, all I do is think. If not about the present, then the past or the future. I decided to take a brief walk down memory lane and share some of the simple things I routinely hear and smell that make me reminisce. (Don't laugh at me).

Scents

Cool Water cologne

This scent will always be with me. It belonged to a boy named Walter who wore it in high school. I've smelled the scent on other men since then, but Walter must have added something to it. It was intoxicating and fit his demeanor so well. Laid-back, smooth, and deep. He was so mature, seemed like he belonged in college instead of the 10th grade. I had a thing for Walter because of that smell. I'd envy the popular girls who had the chance to hug him and walk with him. I wanted to do it too. I just wanted to tell him how good he smelled.

Jergens soap
This scent reminds me of my nighttime baths as a child. The ones after mom would call me inside after I'd been playing outside for hours and demand that I get in the tub and clean myself. My memory often mixes Jergens with the smell of fried chicken. Mom would usually be cooking dinner while I took my bath.

Male sweat
Ahh yes, the smell of teenage boys. I started to notice this scent when I was in middle school. I would walk into a room and could tell boys had been there. It wasn't a funky scent, but I could smell they had been sweating nearby. Girls didn't smell like that. Funny, I don't smell it anymore. Could it be my pubescent senses were heightened for only a short time and as I matured I lost my keen sense of smell? Perhaps because we use so many chemicals to mask our natural scent? I just know I remember when boys started to smell different to me.

Sand de Sable perfume
This perfume used to be one of my cousin's favorites. It smelled so good on her that I pestered my mother to buy some for me. I remember her telling me I was too young to wear it. It took forever before I got my first bottle. I think I was so old I was able to buy it for myself.

Music

"White Horse" (Laid House)
A boy who lived in the same housing development as me had a crazy dance he would do to this song. His mother would put the song on, "White horse, don't ride the white horse..." and he would dance and entertain the adults. I don't remember how old I was, maybe 8 or so. I still see his face so clearly.

"I Get Around" (Tupac)
My biggest high school, Kenneth, was the coolest boy at school. I was a freshman and he a junior. Man I was in looooove. Anyway, he brought a boom box to school one day and was outside during lunch playing music on it. My best friend and I passed him and giggled as usual. I turned around and he was looking right at me. The realization that the guy I liked actually noticed I existed, whilst Tupac flowed "'Cause oh they sweat a brother majorly, I don't know why, your girl keeps paging me..." caused an instant memory burn.

"Before you Turn off the Lights" (The World Class Wrecking Crew)
Not too much to report other than this song would blast from everyone's car stereo. I believe it was around 1987/1988. Man that song was so hot! "Before you turn off the lights, let's get one thing understood, if you plan to make love to me, you got to do it good, 'cause I'm a helluva woman, and for me it takes a helluva man, so don't you dare turn off the lights unless this you understand." I remember riding in the car with my cousin (the same one who liked Sand de Sable perfume) and her friend during one summer she came to stay with me and mom. Listening to them talk about teenage stuff while the music played made me feel like I was one of the girls too, though I was just their annoying tag-a-long.


So, will they reminisce over you? I wonder who will reminisce over me?

My 3 R's: "R"ejoicing in the "R"write "R"hythm

This Sunday evening I'm rejoicing the rwrite rhythm. What does this mean? That my ears are rejoicing (i.e., eargasming) to the rhythms that are evoking my desire to write. I thank the universe for melodic sounds and for voices that carry notes with such passion that the listener feels a sincere feeling of oneness. Interestingly, this ability was supposedly something I was born with. I'm a Cancer, member of a special group of people categorized as "often emotionally intelligent and sensitive to the feelings and moods of others."

Writers, specifically those specializing in fiction, receive inspiration from just about any source you can imagine. Aside from the people that I've encountered or the people I've fantasized about encountering, music is my major energy source for writing endeavors. Which brings me to where I am right now. Right now, I'm being held captive by a cover of the Beatles' song "Yesterday," performed by someone whose name is no stranger to this blog. My lyrical soulmate Donny Hathaway. His voice has complete access to all of me. It takes over and makes me feel what he's saying. He was a gift to this earth. I was six months old when he passed away. We never crossed paths, not in this life anyway. Our lives haven't mirrored. But 30 years later, I can sit here and listen to his words and relate to their sense of urgency; longing; unrequited desire.

How is that possible? For the human condition to be so timeless. That no matter the technological advances or societal changes, emotions remain the same. And much like the scent signal that bees leave to direct those coming behind them, Donny's left music I can listen to and nearly get teary eyed to because >>we are here<<. I feel what's he's saying. Magic I suppose.

I'm feeling this, can't you tell? You should see me, sitting here swaying from side to side like I'm receiving the spirit, and all I want to do is write. After my post yesterday, I hadn't planned on posting for a minute, but I messed around and started playing Mr. Hathaway. Then started rejoicing in my rwrite rhythm. Then I got that itch that only creating words could relieve. This is what he does to me and I'm so very thankful for it. Donny's songs, not all, but the ones I particulary love, provide the water I need for the seeds of my sensual and dramatic scenes to grow. Take these two sentences:

Chris walked up to her and kissed her hand. She looked at him with love in her eyes and led him upstairs.

This isn't bad for a rough draft. Not bad at all.

But, check out how I can work this with a little help from my rwrite rhythm:

She was beautiful, everything about her. Even when she wasn't trying to be. Like now, just standing there at the kitchen sink peeling sweet potatoes. Chris rose from the couch, heart starting to race in anticipation of what he was about to do. He turned off the tv, loosened his tie, and slowly made his way into the kitchen. His wife had only a moment's warning before she was spun around and her moist hand brought to the eager lips of her insatiable husband. Her eyes beckoned him with filthy taunts as she snatched off her apron and led this incredible man upstairs.

*fanning self* Whew chile, see what I mean. Let me stop before I write something I'll regret later.

Think about what or who provides the nourishment for your characters and scenes to flourish. Give thanks that they exist. Now get to work.

Note: You know I wouldn't publish this without leaving the link to hear Donny's version of "Yesterday" for yourself.
Listen here for my private little rwrite rhythm.