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Archive for the ‘C.R.E.A.M.’ Category
SNEAKER FIENDS UNITE!
Friday, April 7th, 2006A LETTER FROM THE MANAGEMENT
Friday, March 24th, 2006
the tune of ‘Welcome Back Kotter’ plays from an imaginary podcast that I wasn’t able to attach to this site, but you know the song gotdammit so sing along.
It’s time to get back on our grizzly if we want to maintain any of the relationhips with our readers that we had when the year began. There was so much promise in the air back then. The website’s statmeter was blowing the fuck up and we thought that maybe we were going to have a successful site on our hands, but the evil OPRAH that is Black History Month knocked the wind out of our sails and the readership dwindled to a handful of weekly visitors. Rest assured my faithful white readers (2): I will be posting some hot pics of SCARLETT JOHANSEN and DREW BARRYMORE in the next few days.
I am also hoping that a bevy of new material and some more real talk and true stories will bring some more of you back to table. MASTER P has a few video projects to debut, the INTERN is stepping up his game with added content and we even have our sexy webmistress chiming in with her own features. The goal is to finish this quarter strong and set ourselves up for a great second quarter.
We don’t need to have the lead going into halftime, but we want to show and prove that we have game…
I almost wish that JAYCEON was down with us cause that fools stock is rising like a rocket. We don’t care for his rhyme flow too tough over here at the site. but we do respect the youngbloods’ resilience. Counted out before the end of last year he has found a way to keep his name on people’s lips (no ANG LEE). He even has a new colorway being released for his crappy sneaker. Would you believe that all this good fortune comes to him just because he stares blankly and angrily at a camera lens.
This is what CHOCOLATE SNOWFLAKE was talking about to me at the executive meeting we had in Philadelphia. I need to get a meaner more hungry look on my face. I need to scowl a little more and stop giving up my seat to old ladies on the subway. I spent half my life living like an asshole shitbag taking advantage of anybody that I came in contact with because I knew that nice guys finished last. Why should I change now just because I can feel my chariot to the mothership is approaching? How the fuck else am I going to make this site work out for all of us.
I haven’t had the scrilla to take my entertainment writers out to dinner in a while. Its gotten so bad these chicks will read Concrete Loop before they visit D.P. dot C. Bitches! Awright, I admit that Concrete Loop is hell’a good, but we do our thing here too. Doesn’t anybody like the Separated at Birth series?!? What about the BeYONCE Factor? Don’t front and say that the Hot Azz Mess awards isn’t your favorite internets picture gallery. This is programming that you will not receive on any of your Viacom controlled television networks. No pimps, no dysfunctional married R&B singers, no ancient eccentric rap music hypemen, no Black girls wearing blonde wigs…
Okay, let’s not get too crazy now, blonde on a Black is always better than black on black crime. Especially when that crime is sanctioned by record labels and other media outlets. Keeping it real sounds good to the kids but it hasn’t gotten anyone too far in life. ISRAEL RAMIREZ’ killer walks right before my eyes and all I can think about are Mz.B’s creamy muscled thighs.
I am on my way to the FREEDOM Friday party tonight, but when I get back in let’s talk about your boy ERIC ‘EASY-E’ WRIGHT. Popular information says that he was a former drugdealer that began his record label with the proceeds from his illicit dealing. Truth is that EASY-E had a small family inheritance that he used to start Ruthless Records and the lawyer, JERRY HELLER, became a partner by hooking him up with his own connections to manufacture and press vinyl records. I know its not as romantic as you would like to believe in that whole mythic streetlife storyline, but keep in mind that the government would have seized the label long ago like they do for mafia assets if they thought that it was founded from the profits of narcotics trading.
Your favorite crapper wasn’t ever a bad boy and there is no Santa Claus.
You can hate me now, but I won’t stop now.
WE BUILT THIS CITY… (ReMix)
Thursday, March 23rd, 2006
The New York Historical Society has spent a grip of money on what could have been a meaningful, dynamic and far reaching exhibit titled “Slavery in New York”. The exhibit could have told the story of how the chattel slave trade allowed America to usurp the position of world power from the British by exploiting a base of free labor for the over 300 hundred years that it was in place. The exhibit could have told the story of the slaves that constructed the wall in lower Manhattan that was designed to fend off pirates and Indians. That location would later be known as Wall Street.
The story of Slavery in America has been opened by scholars before but I was excited to see a discussion of the subject as it was related to Early New Yorker’s mercantile successes.
Everyone likes to think of slavery as a phenomenon exclusive to the American South. And while it is true that the majority of the slave population existed in the South, the difference between North and South was probably less than the percentage by which Bush stole the election.
In fact, New York was the largest slave-holding state in the North. Brooklyn? Plantation city. Ditto for Queens, Long Island and Upper Manhattan. Funny thing is, not that much has changed. Only the jig masters now go by North Face and Starbucks instead of Hamilton and Lefferts.
The letdown for me with what could have been a powerful exhibit was the fact that so many names were withheld. Where are the Carnegies, the Vanderbilts, the DuPonts? For crissakes, where the hell are the Rockerfellers?!? No one controls more New York jigs today than the Rockerfeller family.
ROC-A-FELLA y’all.
Art or Commercial Bullshiite? (ReMix)
Wednesday, March 22nd, 2006
A few months ago we nailed home the concept that this Hip-Hop shit wasn’t thorough enough to be called a culture. After reading the latest Vanity Fair rag I found out that the Hip-Hop that I was brought up on wasn’t even art. Its all commercial bullshiite.
The Vanity Fair article detailed the true story of the Robinson family, the founders of SugarHill Records. The story decribed how the Robinson family was indebted up to their eyeballs to the T.I. mafia. They were desperate to find that ‘next nigger shit’. SYLVIA ROBINSON goes to the legendary Harlem World nightclub to see what kind of disco music the jigs are vibing to. She experiences a Hip-Hop party and right then she knows that she has stumbled onto her pot of gold. She can’t understand what is being said by the emcees and she could care less, all she knows is that this thing is going to be huge. She runs back to New Jersey and literally picks up three jigs off the street and brings them to her home studio. Listening to ‘Rapper’s Delight’ it wasn’t hard to tell that the music was stolen from the CHIC classic ‘Good Times’, but the hammer that was dropped on my head is this… most of the ryhmes used for the song were stolen from the rhymebook of GRANDMASTER CAZ. One of the emcees on the record was a manager for COLD CRUSH BROTHERS and asked CAZ if he could borrow his rhymebook for a meeting he had in New Jersey. CAZ thought that he might be getting put on so he gave up his book to that loser. How apropo is it that the very first incarnation of recorded Hip-Hop has jigs stealing other jigs creative talent? I won’t even complain now when JAY-Z does a cover of B.I.G.’s ‘Juicy’.
Fast forward to the present and Hip-Hop, ne, crap music is a global phenomenon in how it mobilizes and motivates the youth. Crap music determines what is of value to these kids. It constantly tells them what to buy. What has become even more insipid is that crap music tells people what to think and how to react. The pathos of ‘Get Rich or Die Trying’ is that you would do anything for money. That life has a transferrable price in dollars and cents. 50 CENTS.
CURTIS JACKSON is crap music’s greatest prophet for profit because he has maximized his popularity by being this multimedia juggernaut. You can’t turn away from the 50 CENTS character. The television plays his music videos and then incessantly airs commercials that hype the big screen biopic coming to theaters this month. The radio plays the soundtrack to his videogame. I walk into a bookstore in order to escape the madness and right in the center of the store is an entire table table filled with 50 CENTS’ book. Yes, his book! This last irony forces me to sit down in one of the oversized leather chairs and contemplate the future of the children that I see around me. 50 CENTS considered the only two options for his life were guns or microphones. He never mentioned books.
50 CENT says in one of the voiceovers segments for the movie that he got into crap music because unlike drugs he couldn’t be prosecuted for selling a lot of records. That was the motivation for this ‘bullshiite artist’. Crap music will never again be art. It’s all just commercial bullshiite.
Hip-Hop is NOT Culture (ReMix)
Monday, March 20th, 2006
I have been trying to wrap my head around this topic for several weeks now. Ever since I saw a subway advertisement for the VH-1 produced show ‘Hip-Hop Honors,’ I have been in a lousy mood. When I think about the history of VH-1 and MTV in relation to Hip-Hop, I get pissed the fuck off. I am old enough to remember the time when these cultural hustlers would not recognize Hip-Hop because the T.I.’s didn’t believe they could make money from it. They thought that because this art was originally produced and created by disenfranchised people, it would not translate to the suburbs and the exurbs of America.
Give RUSSELL SIMMONS and RICK RUBIN hell’a credit too. When the T.I.’s saw how many white were coming to see acts like KURTIS BLOW, T-LA ROCK, RUN-DMC and of course, the BEASTIE BOYS, they realized there was money to be made. Keep in mind that Hip-Hop’s prime demographic group is white males between the ages of 14 yrs old and 28yrs old (a/k/a the new teenage years).
I went to see 50CENT at the 70,000 seat Ford Field in Detroit and the only black folks that I saw were the ones tap-dancing on stage and the fools selling bootleg tee shirts outside the arena. Hip-Hop music is how white in America gets a chance to go on an ‘urban safari’. From the veritable safety of their iPOD.
PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE stop calling Hip-Hop a culture. This demeans the achievements of actual cultures that have shaped everything from language to economics to politics. Hip-Hop has not transformed any of the aforementioned standards. Hip-Hop in America is marketed as an alternative to securing an education, so much so that the word ‘bling’ now appears in the Merriam-Webster dictionary. Hip-Hop in America is marketed to promote consumerism without regard for fiscal austerity, so much so that people without a pot to piss in have a bottle of champagne in their refrigerator. Hip-Hop in America is marketed as an over-sized white tee shirt instead of the realization of socio-political responsibility, so much so that ‘VOTE or DIE!’ rolls off of my lips as easy as ‘JUST SAY NO!’
The actual culture is called capitalism. Hip-Hop is an artistic movement that is an outgrowth of the culture of capitalism, much the same way that 5000 years ago North African culture produced the pyramids. Though to tell you the truth, Hip-Hop isn’t nearly as great or everlasting as the pyramids of Giza. I don’t think any beings will look at the ‘Black’ album 1000 years from now and think that they missed some kind of cultural zenith.
I am not telling you not to enjoy watching a program that features performances from some of the artists that have crafted the soundtrack to our lives, just don’t get all longwinded and quasi-intellectual. No one will care what you have to say anyway.