Color Crisis

Lots of folks are talking about Bakari Kitwana's incisive look at how concious black rap artists have heavily white live audiences.

Some of the more insightful comments from the piece:

Zion I's Zion: "...Black folks will say that they aren't trying to hear hip-hop artists remind them of their problems."

Wendy Day: "I can tell you as someone who works with independent labels in parts of the South and Midwest that if you are breaking a record at the street level in these communities, and you don't have young Black kids buying your record, you will not go anywhere."

Brother Ali: "One of the hardest things we're dealing with now is the underlying feeling of white supremacy among fans who feel they are a part of hip-hop, but are listening to and prefer mostly white MCs..."

Kitwana asserts correctly that white folks dig politically charged hip-hop. Though there's no way to prove this, i've been to enough shows myself to concur. Brother Ali's comments (I believe he's a Black albino--though am honestly not sure) are pretty interesting. I know fans like those he mentions. However, there are still plenty of hip-hop heads that don't have white supremacist feelings when it comes to melanin-deficient MCs. In fact, when it comes to yours truly, I will undoubtedly cast a more critical eye when hearing a white hip-hopper spit and must admit that even before I hear him or her bust, i'm automatically assuming that it's going to be more Brian Austin Green than Emimen.

Random Rundown

This is what's been running through my domepiece as of late:


1) George Pelecanos is the best crime writer I've read in a grip. He's absolutely meticulous when it comes to music. You're likely to read his Chocolate City characters spinning tunes from The Stylistics to Neil Young. Ideal summer reading.

2) Why the heck to realtors have to post their glamour shots on all of their paraphenalia? Seems to be the only profession outside of the entertainment world that feels the need to do this. Do they think they'll actually be selected if they're good looking folks? Do people actually pick them over someone else for this reason? Seems completely absurd. Why do I care about this? Not sure, quite truthfully.


3) Watching Tom Cruise deny the relevance of psychiatry is fantastic television. He's so wacked out, he appears to be playing a movie role in real life. Maybe he should pop a couple Ritalin to chill out.

Frontline

If NoCal's Frontline is at the Bay Area's hip-hop forefront, i feel thousands of miles away. Not feeling the sound, which I liken too much to the crunked out jams that blast on BET daily. They have some lyrical chops, but i'm not getting it.

Double P

Witnessed a pair of 16th letters the other night: DJ Premier & DJ P. They played for free courtesy of that toaster like car line Scion. More on that in a minute. Here's the review.

Just by strolling onto the dance floor to his spinning area, Premier had the crowd in awe of his mere presence. Sort of a Jerry Maguire-ish "had me at hello" type thing. He was tight on the decks (lots of precision cuts), but not into much turntable trickery. Hearing him play a gang of jams he produced from MCs like Jay-Z and Nas was truly a thrill. He didn't have to do much--heck, he's Primo. To see him is to love him.



DJ P had the unenviable task of prepping everyone for Premier and he won the D.C. crowd over with his seamless, oddball mixes (not an easy task). Some sample pairings from P:

Beastie Boys "No Sleep 'Til Brooklyn" & Fat Joe "Lean Back"

Tears for Fears "Shout" & Motley Crue "Shout at the Devil"

Notorious BIG "Gimme The Loot" & Mystikal "Danger" & The Beatles "Help"

At the end of his set, DJ P actually breakdanced smack dab in the middle of the crowd. His moves deserved an honorary Rock Steady card. Check out a video of P b-boying here.

Still tough to believe this was all FREE. As much as I joke about Scion's cars looking like lunchboxes, I've gotta give 'em props.

Perception Is Reality

I know i'm made late on this, but The Perceptionists record is downright dope.

Pissed, pensive and funny as hell, the trio of DJ Fakts One, Mr. Lif and Akrobatik deliver. Oh, don't miss Shock G's guest appearance on the most hilariously incisive joint on the disc, "Career Finders." Check out the album samplere here.

Testifyin'

Dave McKenna writes live show reviews for the Washington Post. He's probably the sharpest and most hilarious concert reviewer i've ever come across. Check this recent review from the metal band Testament:


Testament at Jaxx

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Metalheads prefer the old Testament. The band, that is. The recently reconstituted and influential menace-metal outfit pummeled a full house at Jaxx Friday with its first stateside show in more than a decade.

Testament formed in Northern California in the early 1980s and seemed bound for Metallica-level success later in the decade. But such prosperity never came, and the band has been in disarray since the the1992 departure of guitar hero and onetime childhood prodigy Alex Skolnick. Now that he's back with others from the band's glory days, it's clear Skolnick has aged differently from his mates. While they have grown creepier-looking over time -- singer Chuck Billy, whose gargantuan body is covered by hair and tattoos, cuts as scary a figure as anybody who sings for a living -- Skolnick now exudes regular-guyness. He has a short coif and -- horror of horrors! -- no visible body ink or piercings. (For perspective on how odd this purity is, consider that Testament's lineups since Skolnick left the band have included musicians from groups with names such as Death, Obituary, Disincarnate, Cancer, Dark Angel, Sadus, Forbidden, Slayer and Evil Dead.) The band's hard-core followers are as ornery-looking as four-fifths of the band, which, layoff be damned, produced about 90 minutes of metal so heavy the CIA might want to prevent its export to Iran. Yet when Skolnick -- who while on hiatus from Testament composed big-band jazz for, among others, the Westminster Kennel Club broadcasts -- threw his trademark faux-classical licks lickety-split into the solo on "Thrown in the Fire," the fans cheered him as if he'd gotten "666" branded on his forehead. During "Disciples of the Watch," Billy, who in recent years won a bout with cancer that once had fans wondering if he'd ever screech about Beelzebub again, commanded the crowd to scream along with him lyrics such as "Obey! Or I'll burn you to that cross!" The moshers were too scared not to comply.
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Talk about having fun with the material. It ain't hip-hop, but I'm loving it.