Archive for the ‘The Guest Room’ Category

SNEAKER FIENDS UNITE!

Sunday, March 1st, 2009

dj pinky


Editor’s note: China keeps on making it and Australia keeps on taking it. The SFU chancellor from down under DJ Pinky hits us off with the story and pics behind another acquisition.


dj pinky

T’was a quiet Sunday morning in ye’ old geelong town, and after getting home from playing the club @ 4am I was kinda hoping for some sleep in….

Not today!

Being that my lady is 8 and a bit months pregnant and could pop any day she wanted to go out and walk around the shops and stuff. So we headed up the highway to check out a lil’ place called Werribee Plaza. We just looked and walked and looked and walked.

Then upon leaving I suggest, seeing as were already out, why don’t we go a few more kms down the highway and check out this sweeeeeettt spot that has a sheer knack of getting the crazy SB’s. And being that the guys there know what’s up they like to hold some stuff for back room sharing lol[ll].

Special sneaker fiend access.

So we get there and they offer me a pick of the SB Spidermans or the SB Big Gulps…

BIG GULPS?!?

Sold!!!

dj pinky

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And the rest is history…

Yours,

Pinky
SFU – Australia correspondent

dj pinky

Anti-American Graffiti And Post Apocalyptic Armageddon…

Saturday, February 7th, 2009

dilla rip

The assignment was simple in its design. BRANDON SODERBERG asked if people would like to create a drop or several commemorating a track from Jay Dee’s album ‘Donuts’. I already knew which song I wanted to discuss. I love the track called ‘Anti-American Graffiti’. I also knew I wanted to make a video that used the song as its soundtrack. I hope I did a good job of transferring my thoughts on the track with the images that I clipped and pasted together.

The song is almost like a marching anthem in the way that the drum kicks keep their time. I see an army stretching across the horizon goose-stepping in time. It isn’t a human army though. Well, not all human. They are cyborgs. Stepping on human skulls strewn about the landscape. Even though the human life has been muted there is still something lively about these man-machines and their march. This is the sad future of this planet.

In the last few weeks my thoughts have been on the war that the U.S. is still embedded in across the Middle East. From Afghanistan to Iraq and the tacit support and endorsement in Gaza there is so much blood on our hands as American citizens. I understand that everything that I enjoy as an American comes from the real sacrifice that is made by the U.S. military personnel. All the while their rate of suicide skyrockets to unimagined heights. Can the president wrest a control of this precedent?

When Jay Dee passed away in 2006 the country was almost three years deep in the tumult of Iraq and only six months removed from the disaster that was Hurricane Katrina. Jay Dee saw a world that was folding in on itself as if it had eaten a cosmic Black hole. Maybe we deserve this fate? At some point someone will have to take the weight and bear the burden for all of our complicit sin. With each generation the penalties and interest increase. Will our grandchildren even know what sunlight looks like?

Rest in peace James J.Dilla Yancey. Donuts forever.

J Dilla – Anti-American Graffiti from dallas penn on Vimeo.

dilla rip

DP versus COMBAT JACK: Public Enemy

Monday, February 2nd, 2009

rock em sock em

Let’s Get Ready To RUMMMMMMBLE!!!

It was back during the end of the summer last year that I visited upon Combat Jack and his family in the heart of the new post-riot, post-racial Crown Heights. It was a lovely Sunday afternoon and what could have been a perfect late summer cool out became a fierce yet friendly argument over substance and style.

Our opinions meshed and differed over Hip-Hop and the reasons for its decline and devaluation. At the same time we agreed that Hip-Hop was also alive and well in regions and places that we might have never expected. The arguments centered around old and new rap acts and the classics that are surely Hip-Hop’s legacy. We discussed at length some of the genre’s most influential groups. The Wu-Tang Clan, De La Soul and the most important rap group in the history of Hip-Hop, Public Enemy.

The debate between Combat Jack and I wasn’t about the iconic status of P.E. since C.J. and I both share a mutual respect for the group’s achievements, but about which of their albums is the greatest. If you visit Combat Jack over at his site, Daily Mathematics, I am sure he will tell his side of the story. But before you waste your time over there reading his Rolling Stone hyperbole take my facts with you so that you will have a better understanding of why I chose ‘Fear Of A Black Planet’

fear

If you had spent the majority of the 1980’s in and around the streets of New York City then you would remember that this was a town that simmered with racial unrest right below its glittering surface. NYC was just as populous then as it is today and it still held many elements that made it a cosmopolitan outpost. Though as soon as you left the island of Manhattan you were transported into neighborhoods that still reeled from the blackouts during the 1970’s. Urban blight was entrenched even before they were delivering crack to the ‘hood by the busloads.

Under this environment rap music was beginning to flourish, but it rarely addressed the conditions its artists emerged from with anything more than lip service. Being that was rap music, one might think that all it could bring to the table was words exiting lips. Public Enemy was the force that ushered in a new era of understanding about the urban centers that were being abandoned to poverty and depression. New York City was a focal point because it was not only the birth place of Hip-Hop but was a city where racial tension burst into the spotlight frequently.

public enemy

None of you will remember the name Willie Turks, or Eleanor Bumpurs, but you probably know of Michael Stewart and definitely Yusuf Hawkins. There was a steady stream of Blacks that were lynched by white mobs or the police and it appeared that there would never be justice for these victims. Oppressed people respond to their aggressors in different manners as you can see from the worldwide newsreels. The disenfranchised express their rage outwardly AND inwardly. Being Black in the center city was rough from all angles. It was the worst of times, yet it was still the best of times.

‘Fear Of A Black Planet’ is a summation of the Black experience during the 1980’s in America. Even more than ‘It Takes A Nation Of Millions’ could have dreamed, ‘Fear’ tackles the issues dealing with the Black experience head on. Where ‘Nation’ makes your body rock, ‘Fear’ makes your brain tick-tock. Public Enemy crafted this masterpiece when they were directly inside the cross hairs, as their classic silhouetted logo suggests. No one has since been so brave and so bold as to stand up to the mainstream media machine as Chuck D did to defend the message of empowerment that his music describes.


‘Brothers Gonna Work It Out’

‘Fear’ gets right in the face of the haters who want to obfuscate what this group really represents. ‘Fear’ is so powerful because it is the last album of its kind. The Bomb Squad easily sampled over 100 songs to make this Public Enemy album. You would never be able to release an epic music disk this dense with how nowadays the industry litigates what artists may use which samples. The clearance costs alone would shelve this album. Public Enemy changed how we heard music on several different levels. Chuck D challenged you with his lyrics, while the Shocklee-helmed Bomb Squad challenged you to name that sample.


Welcome 2 The Terrordome

The main reason I have to place ‘Fear’ over ‘Nation’ is that while ITANOMTHUB is clearly a music rich masterpiece that challenged me to do the knowledge, FOABP was the album that challenged me to be a better man. This was the griot call to take the knowledge of self and use it for good. This was the herald of change almost twenty years prior to Obama. Hip-Hop music in its essence is the sound of the drum and the voice. Ancient and everlasting. ‘Fear Of A Black Planet’ is the zenith of Hip-Hop. Drums, percussion, horn hits, sampled and live, selected for resonance along with the voice of the messenger. Celebrating life.


Fight The Power

SNEAKER FIENDS UNITE!

Monday, February 2nd, 2009

lobster

Editor’s note: Wasn’t I just having a convo with ProperTalks about lobsters? Yes, I was.

Since I can’t buy kicks right now I am living vicariously through my friends who send me their pics of their own kicks. DJ Pinky, one of the S.F.U. correspondents from Australia has been going in hard lately. Here’s his drop featuring the Nike SB ‘Lobsters’. Mmmmm, tasty.

lobster

lobster

hey dP,

I was checking out this skate shop spot near my house cos they were having a sale on old stock…

it was like they found stock in the back that they lost…lol, so after searching through seriously 100 odd boxes I found a golden nugget!!!

a SB box…

and my size!!! whoop…

inside is something a lil’ strange but you know me, who wants the same as everyone else? so I pull out these pink and red and white sneakers that look like they have a tablecloth as the liner.

hahahha, I put them back in the box and ask the dude (who is my boy) whats the damage? how much cash?

$60?

SOLD!

another successfull SFU mission completed!

peace

Nik “pinky”

lobster

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Let America Be America Again…

Monday, January 19th, 2009

obama lincoln

Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.

(America never was America to me.)

Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed–
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.

(It never was America to me.)

O, let my land be a land where Liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,
But opportunity is real, and life is free,
Equality is in the air we breathe.

(There’s never been equality for me,
Nor freedom in this “homeland of the free.”)

Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?
And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?

I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,
I am the Negro bearing slavery’s scars.
I am the red man driven from the land,
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek–
And finding only the same old stupid plan
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.

I am the young man, full of strength and hope,
Tangled in that ancient endless chain
Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!
Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!
Of work the men! Of take the pay!
Of owning everything for one’s own greed!

I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.
I am the worker sold to the machine.
I am the Negro, servant to you all.
I am the people, humble, hungry, mean–
Hungry yet today despite the dream.
Beaten yet today–O, Pioneers!
I am the man who never got ahead,
The poorest worker bartered through the years.

Yet I’m the one who dreamt our basic dream
In the Old World while still a serf of kings,
Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,
That even yet its mighty daring sings
In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned
That’s made America the land it has become.
O, I’m the man who sailed those early seas
In search of what I meant to be my home–
For I’m the one who left dark Ireland’s shore,
And Poland’s plain, and England’s grassy lea,
And torn from Black Africa’s strand I came
To build a “homeland of the free.”

The free?

Who said the free? Not me?
Surely not me? The millions on relief today?
The millions shot down when we strike?
The millions who have nothing for our pay?
For all the dreams we’ve dreamed
And all the songs we’ve sung
And all the hopes we’ve held
And all the flags we’ve hung,
The millions who have nothing for our pay–
Except the dream that’s almost dead today.

O, let America be America again–
The land that never has been yet–
And yet must be–the land where every man is free.
The land that’s mine–the poor man’s, Indian’s, Negro’s, ME–
Who made America,
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,
Must bring back our mighty dream again.

Sure, call me any ugly name you choose–
The steel of freedom does not stain.
From those who live like leeches on the people’s lives,
We must take back our land again,
America!

O, yes,
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath–
America will be!

Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,
The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,
We, the people, must redeem
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.
The mountains and the endless plain–
All, all the stretch of these great green states–
And make America again!

— Langston Hughes

via persuede