Completely Off-Topic:

UncleBiggy meets Chuck D.

Yes, let's get this outta da way: I did ask Chuck D. to come play with us.

For years, many of you have heard my lamenting about the segregation of indy-rock and indy-hop. Most of us have no idea how to even achieve first contact with the underground hip-hop scene, and even if we did, we'd really have to be sold into going. Face it, if there's no integration within an artists' scene, it's lacking cause it's all-cracka, or all-blacka, and we're reminded: if we can't groove together at venues, when can we?

Perhaps things are changing for the better. I know some white artists are reaching out, and trying to make a rainbow, and to others' credit, some have had diversity within their own bands. But for me, tonight was the worst possible rendering of what could have been an evolutionary evening, as experienced by, say, the mysogenal triumph in "Look Who's Coming to Dinner!", or the commeraderie of USA for Africa's midnight-oil session, if ya threw in no-shows (or non-inviteds) Prince, Chaka Khan, Run-DMC and ya' momz. Yes, really all I want is a bill giving me cool Eboneez and Ivories.

I always thought the Coral Room could have huge nights, and when I found out last week that Chuck D. was blessing the room, I imagined i would see see limos dropping off record execs while thumping, hydrolic 6-Fours unload J-Z, Missy Elliot and Bionce'. I was worried about getting in, so I called my friend and brother Chris, the owner, to make sure i get me and mines through the door. A surprising amount of people didn't come, which I found curious, but others I invited were there, in addition to old homies I thought might attend.

I got there at 9:35 with some activity outside, no hoopla though, and inside, the crowd was a bit light and very white. Most of the bands I routinely see draw better, and they've never been tapped by the FBI. The first thing I saw on stage was Chuck D. introducing what turned out to be the third band, a band so crappy they couldn't play a decent cover of "I Want Candy", which they somehow did without its trademark guitar line. The leader played guitar and bass, and had no problem showing he sucks on both. On bass, he was as agile and imaginative as Roger Daultry's guitar playing on Eminence Front. He just held it tightly and awkardly, always keeping his instrument at a perfect 45 degrees. His guitar style made you wanna kick his ass back to the schoolbus he came in.

We took a cigarette break, with a long chat: they were still on. Next thing i know they're doing another cover, "The Devil Went Down to Geogia", which always prompts my schtick that the devil won. So now, I hear the band talking, and just as I figure they're over, they're inviting Chuck D. on the stage to perform with them! I mean these guys aren't good enough to play the coke-room at Stinger's at 7:30 am on a Monday, and now they're Chuck D.'s backing band.

Chuck D. came up and explained their collaboration: one day he was walking to work, and he heard this band rehearsing a Public Enemy song. I think they might practice near his home. Anyway, he just decided to pop in to kinda freak them out, and now, he decides he'll do them a favor and rap over them. He even let them choose the song, By the Time I get to Arizona, and he didn't know their choice until he had to rap it.

Now, no doubt this part was great, and here's a picture:



Their choice of "Arizona" was decent, and they played it well. Chuck D. was awesome, and intense. After hearing me dis the band and assert that Chuck D. could command the best band in the city to play for him, Chris retorts, "Well, that's why it was nice for Chuck to play with them."

But I thought he would have a whole set; instead, he was just throwing a bone to a buncha metalheads with an average DJ.

Then another metal-rap band comes on, "The Answer" (i hope it wasn't an homage to Allen Iverson, because....): they blew too. When will I see a rising and fresh hip-hop band? Instead of sensing a step towards integration, "The Answer" basically strove to air on 92.3, and Chuck D.'s performance made me feel as hip and down as when my old boarding school brought in a Gospel Choir to sing for Black History Month. The night wasn't about bringing us together, it was just a neat treat before we go home and watch MASH (thanks Chris Rock).

Afterwards though, Chuck was wandering around and shaking hands, and that was cool. I did get a group picture, even made everyone wait so i get Aaron into the photo:


Mishka, Aaron, Chuck D., Alyson, Josh

I don't know what else to say except when are we going to get a crew and head up to see a show in Harlem, or wherever we can make a connection? Does anyone know?
- posted by Kevin @ 1:05 AM

 
Jensy chimes in with his report for the first 2 weeks:

Kickball Kronichles, Vols. 1 and 2

Oh hello. A rainy Monday, not entirely unlike the rainy Sunday we had yesterday at the Field of Dreams in the afternoon leading up to Kickball, Week 2. Regardless, just like the week before, we found our field with the lights that we are paying for occupied by baseball players. Unlike last week, though, it wasn't the Mexican Baseball League, but members of the Orthodox Jewish community, playing in dress shoes, with some other neighborhood folks padding out the rosters. And, as our ranks were a total of 5 - 6 if you include the photographer from the Village Voice who was sent to take pictures for their "Summer Fun Issue" on that laughably depressing (weather-wise) day, and 7 if you include her pet poodle named "The Snack" - well, we weren't about to ruin their game just so we could stand around the pitcher's mound waiting for people to show up. So, we took in a few innings of their game, deciding that rather than keep score, they should just award the win to the team who made the fewest errors. Finally, we'd gotten to 10 or 11 people and we announced our take over, of course inviting them to play with us, and about half of them took us up on it, including their star pitcher in an "A-Rod" jersey. So he became "Rodriguez." Two teams were formed, the turn-out increased and three games and a half were played, before our collective love of beer got the best of us, and we retired to the Turkey's Nest around 9pm, presumably in time for Josh Taggart to watch the damn Sopranos. You know, the name of that show still bugs me. But, keep in mind - and here is the lesson to be learned - Kickball Kev and i will be there *every week* regardless of the weather (we learned our lesson about this last year during "high wind day" at Red Hook Park), and we will play as long as there's enough people. So, if you want to play, don't worry about the weather. We had a great ol' time last night, even though i fear i left my gloves there by mistake. Ah well.

If you are reading this, then Kickball Week 1 must seem like ancient history. The sun was out for the first time since the late 90s, and the mood for kickball reached a feverish intensity. You are now familiar with the teamful of trash-talking Pirates, the impressive turnout, the season's first triple play, the field snafus, the Voice columnist (where's the goddamn NYPress? i ask you). Anyway, this is all to say that now we know this league will work out, during both nice days and bad ones, with drinky Pirates and our Orthodox Jewish friends, guys and dames, all uniting under a love of kickball and lit fields. Makes me proud to be an American, or at least a Brooklynite. See you next week.

- posted by Kevin @ 8:00 PM