This week, DMX made his triumphant return to New York City, New York, performing a homecoming show with special guest Swizz Beatz at S.O.B.’s. But Dark Man X really stirred the pot when he did an interview with Power 105’s The Breakfast Club, stating that he’s not very impressed by Rick Ross’ lyrical content and that he “doesn’t like anything about Drake. I don't like his fucking voice. I don't like what he talks about. I don't like his face. I don't like the way he walks. Nothing."
Tony Two-Step - Summers Gone, Fall Back (Free EP)
by Tony Two-Step
So for the past couple months I have been working with Crate Logic a producer from San Francisco, California.
& "Summers Over, Fall Back" is the end result. The sound is real raw. Crate Logic's production gives a completely
different sound to tracks I have already sculpted. We will be doing more remixes in the next few months,
But I couldn't sit on these Tracks any longer. The songs that have been remixed are; 9am, Femme Fatale,
Get Down (Part 2), Rearranging Planets & The infamous "No Stress". Please don't hesitate to repost and share
this EP.
Download Here @ http://soundcloud.com/cratelogic
Hard to believe but this month marks 21 years since the release of Gang Starr’s sophomore album, Step In the Arena. The LP’s lead single, and some would argue, the definitive Gang Starr song, “Just To Get a Rep,” neatly encapsulates all the group’s signature musical elements (e.g. Guru’s detailed street narrative with a conscience; DJ Premier’s peerless production and precisely dispensed scratch hooks). But nearly as important to the record’s success with hip-hop devotees upon its release was its accompanying video. Inventively directed by Yo! MTV Raps host Fab 5 Freddy, shot in stark black and white, and prominently featuring several Gang Starr Foundation members, the “Just To Get a Rep” music video is perhaps the ideal visual rendering of the song imaginable. Ever the gentleman, Fab 5 Freddy recalls the making of this classic music video. Along the way, Fab talks no-budget shooting constraints and casting concerns, Williamsburg before the hipstaz took over, and how Guru and Premier captured the essence of a BK street institution: the stick up kid.
What stands out to you about this particular video?
Fab 5 Freddy: I guess a lot of what I feel is my best work had a strong narrative. I tell a story. Not just [show an artist] running around performing in the obligatory video fantasy world. I would find a way to pull a narrative out. And “Just to get a Rep” that was kinda like [that]. Just that real grimy street shit that I grew up around. I was very confident that I could tell this story dictated very clearly by the script, meaning the song. At that time [in hip-hop] the West Coast had got really strong. They was coming hard. So gangsta rap was beginning to become this big, impactful thing, and many of the West Coast artists had a lock on how [street subject matter] was seen. I felt like New York had gotten a little bit soft at that particular time when I did the video. And I wanted to show, like, yo, this is real street shit here – let me show you. But the thing about that video was the budget was mad low for that time. I think I barely had 20 grand.
How familiar were you with Gang Starr to that point?
Fab 5 Freddy: I had known Guru and Premier when they were hanging around [on the downtown club circuit]. “Amazon,” “Milky Way” – those were the types of clubs that were going on then. They were on that scene waiting for their shit to really pop off and blow up. I guess “Manifest” had come out, which was the first single, which everybody loved. But they were still like kind of up and coming. So I knew those dudes from just being around – and [I also knew] Patrick Moxey, who managed them.
[Gang Starr] had been on Wild Pitch Records. Wild Pitch had got at me numerous times [to direct videos] and they had a lot of acts that I liked. But I couldn’t find a way to work! I got a [professional film] crew [to pay], and to do something effective and to make a few dollars it was almost impossible. Wild Pitch had great acts and they squandered so much of what they had because they were so fuckin’ cheap. And they would eventually lose a lot of those acts. [Step In the Arena] was Gang Starr’s first album after Wild Pitch [for Chrysalis Records], “Just To Get a Rep” – the first single from the album. But even then they had a dumb low budget. But that song was just something where I said, man, I gotta do this. And we went in. Cats did it on a reduced rate because the budget was so low. But [since some of them] had did a few other jobs with me and dug the work, everybody cut their rate. So it was the most raw dog low budget joint I had done up to that point.
What besides the low budget was the biggest challenge?
Fab 5 Freddy: When we had the first meeting I told them, dude, the key thing is casting. We gotta get the right kind of dudes. And in [doing previous] casting sessions I had learned that all these wannabe actor cats show up – a lot of times pretty boy GQ looking dudes, and they were never right. And so I knew this was gonna be the problem. And I remember Preemo and Guru and them were like, “Nah, man. We got these dudes for you. Here are these dudes in our crew.” So I remember meeting them, and it was like Lil’ Dap, fuckin’ Jeru. Now, none of these dudes had come out [with their own records] yet. So I looked at these niggas, and I’m like, yeah! They were all down with the whole gang Starr clique with what they was doing. I think LIl’ Dap might have been down with the Decepticons – some ill Brooklyn gang at the time. They was young, grimy dudes and shit. So I was like, okay, yeah, all these dudes got the right look.
It was so dope to see the video a year or two later as Group Home came out, as Jeru came out with “Come Clean.” And dudes would begin to be like, “Oh shit… that’s the dude in the video!” That was what was so dope about Gang Starr – how they developed this little clique and had all these grimy motherfuckers around them, and they did look out. A lot of those cats got put on.
A pre-Group Home Lil’ Dap as seen in “Just To Get A Rep.”
Where was this filmed?
Fab 5 Freddy: Right there at the Brooklyn side of the Williamsburg Bridge, practically under it. In and around Williamsburg, right off of Broadway.
Kind of a different place these days.
Fab 5 Freddy: It’s ironic because when I did the video there the whole artsy scene had not yet come to Williamsburg. I’m from Bed-Stuy, which is just 10 minutes from there. But I never ventured that deep into [Williamsburg]. Especially those areas because it was heavily Puerto Rican when I was coming up, and I just didn’t go that deep into that hood. Williamsburg was still rough and dusty and very kind of edgy ghetto, so to speak. That little pocket [where we filmed] was residential, but it was poor. And then on the other side was Hasidics. But the immediate area was just poor, working class type dusty shit, you know. And we just went and got it in and just banged that motherfucker out.
Off Broadway: Scenes from a pre-gentrified Williamsburg, Brooklyn.
What was the process of the actual shoot like?
Fab 5 Freddy: The key thing when you’re budget is that low is you gotta do it all in one day, and mostly under daylight because we didn’t have much money for lights. So it was basically a type of shooting that we call “run and gun.” It was all run and gun practically within a one-block radius. But I was able to get enough different looks to change it up and get a story. I remember going from one location to [another], runnin’ across the street, grabbing equipment going, “Come on, come on we gotta hurry up and get these shots!” We had a tight shot list and we need to get all these story elements, which were critical to filmically capturing all this shit with a bunch of non-actors. [With other shoots] you might have the leisure of getting three or four takes of certain shit. I didn’t have that.
MTV’s censorship of the content of rap music videos was a very big concern for the directors, artists, and labels at that time. Yet one of the things that’s most memorable about “Just To Get a Rep” is you managed to get around the issue of guns appearing in this video in a creative way.
Fab 5 Freddy: MTV was starting to come with these different [restrictions], like okay, you can’t show this, you can’t show that. And a lot of it was some bullshit. But you had to be [mindful of it]. I obviously had more info on these things than anybody because I was working at MTV. I was very savvy about [what we were able to show].
Everybody else was runnin’ around trying to be gangsta this, gangsta that in various videos. And what would happen was the video would come in and then they’d send it back and tell you: you have to cut this, that and a third. And a lot of time with small companies, since it was more money, it would delay the video for periods of time. So my whole thing was, I’m gonna have to figure out a way [to address this through] filmmaking. Okay, we can’t show guns. But nothing is real in a movie. Some guy points a gun at you and shoots – that’s not a gun. You don’t get shot. So how do I do this and keep all the elements of that real street shit? [And I decided to just] show this dude [in the video] pointing his finger. I felt like it would be just as powerful, and everything that happened as a result of it would still make a strong statement. You get the story.
How did that idea go over with the group and everyone else?
Fab 5 Freddy: I had to talk to them and explain that to the group and that we were gonna do this. Because if we wanna pull this off right, there’s no way we can do this and not have to blur the gun. So why fuckin’ do that? Let’s tell the story as if it’s theater on stage: Nigga, I point, you hear the bang, you fall. In the fuckin’ creative language of theater – of film, of storytelling – you understand what I’m telling you.
Lil’ Dap pulls the trigger, with no gun.
I’m going through all this emphasis of explaining it now because I still remember being on set, and motherfuckers are like, “Yo, what the fuck are you doing?!? Pointing the finger?!?” I’m like, trust me. I knew we was gonna cut that shit together and you would still get it. It’s like little kids – bang, nigga, you’re dead! And it was an ill thing that I went there, but I felt strong about it. Because the [rules of the network had led to folks] butchering videos.
What are your other recollections of working with Guru and Premier?
Fab 5 Freddy: I remember Preemo being a stickler that I had to get a shot of him doing those scratches. So that was one of the last two set-ups we did it. We had one turntable going and I had Preemo do those little things with his hands where we could cut the scratches in. I remember Preemo and Guru – they had total trust and confidence in me because they knew my steez and knew who I was.
I think another great thing about those dudes – and it’s fascinating when you think about it – is that Guru’s from Boston, and Preemo’s from Texas, but these dudes surrounded themselves with the right cats. And they absorbed all this energy to be able to tell these stories. And it’s a perfect thing that hip-hop does when it’s done right – where they can articulate the story [so well] you would think these dudes was [from Brooklyn] they way they did it. Growin’ up in Bed Stuy in the period when I grew up, Brooklyn in terms of every other borough was the home of the stick up kid. Like one of the street hustles that was most common. It was just something that was very, very, very much a part of the existence here. And [with “Just To Get a Rep”], it was just like, oh my god, they just caught the essence of some real, grimy New York shit. They damn sure did.
Born in Chicago in 1936, Cornelius grew up in the Bronzeville neighborhood and worked numerous jobs: he sold insurance, worked as a TV newsman and deejayed at WVON, which serenaded the South and West Sides with soul music. While employed at WCIU-TV in the '60s, he started hosting soul dance parties around the city and eventually approached station management about a show based on the same idea. They accepted.
"Soul Train" debuted in 1970 with low expectations and overhead. Color cameras weren't in the budget and the dancefloor was the size of a typical living room. But the show struck a chord with an audience that had been largely ignored by other teen-oriented dance shows, most famously Dick Clark's "American Bandstand." For young, African-American kids, "Soul Train" was must-see after-school viewing because it presented mostly R&B artists that other shows neglected. And, perhaps most importantly, it showcased the hippest dance moves.
Besides calling in favors from stars such as Curtis Mayfield, the O’Jays, B.B. King and Jerry Butler that he had befriended over the years, Cornelius brought in young dancers he met at parties or on the street to cut loose in front of the cameras. They were the unpaid star attractions who popularized enduring dance moves such as the "robot" and "pop and lock." One of the show’s most avid viewers, the young Michael Jackson, was clearly paying attention when one of the show’s dancers debuted the "moonwalk" in the '70s. The high-stepping "Soul Train" alumni include actress Rosie Perez, singer Jody Watley and rapper MC Hammer.
The show moved to Los Angeles in its second year and entered into national syndication, turning Cornelius from local celebrity into a music-industry tastemaker. Stars such as Sly and the Family Stone, Al Green, James Brown and Aretha Franklin appeared. Indicative of the show's burgeoning reach (and bigger budget), Barry White showed up in 1975 wearing a black velvet tuxedo and conducting a 40-piece orchestra. White performers wanted in, too, and Elton John,Sting,Hall & Oats,Michael Mcdonald and David Bowie were among some of the guests.
Indeed, "Soul Train" -- which was syndicated by Tribune Entertainment from 1985 until 2007 -- provided the first wave of national television exposure for acts such as L.L. Cool J,De La Soul, Snoop Doggy Dogg,Krs-One,Big Daddy Kane,The Beastie Boys and Public Enemy. The host finally bailed in 1993 and the show continued until 2006 without him, though it was never really the same. By the end, "Soul Train" had been eclipsed by other outlets showcasing cutting-edge African-American talent, but it remained the template for many of them.
Aaron Howell and Sharon Shattucks’ short documentary entitled Records covers a quick history of records, the pressing process involved in their creation, and explains the many reasons why otherwise normal people spend a greater portion of their lives chasing after vinyl.
The video includes quick snippets of interviews with DJ’s, collectors, and even the production manager of Brooklyn Phono record plant and touches on various aspects of vinyl such as DJ’ing, Sound Quality, Artwork, and Collecting.
Lord Finesse talks about the meaning behind Diggin’ In The Crates, hardcore crate digging, the importance of music knowledge, and tells glorious record convention stories.
Notable Quote:
If you’re gonna get in this game. Do it because you genuinely love music. It’s not about the records. It’s not about the drum machine. It’s always about the individual, the creativity of the individual. And most importantly… chase your dreams and not the competition. Do what you feel.
She scored her first hit when she was just a teenager with the suggestive "Roll With Me, Henry," which had to be changed to "The Wallflower" in order to get airplay. Over the years, she'd notch many more, carving a niche for herself with her husky, soulful voice and her sassy attitude, which permeated her songs.
But it was her jazz-inflected rendition of "At Last" that would come to define her and make her legendary. The song, which starts with sumptuous strings before James begins to sing, was a remake of a 1941 standard. James made it her own, and her version became the new standard.
James did get her accolades over the years. She was inducted into the Rock Hall in 1993, captured a Grammy in 2003 for best contemporary blues album for "Let's Roll;" one in 2004 for best traditional blues album for "Blues to the Bone;" and one for best jazz vocal performance for 1994's "Mystery Lady: Songs of Billie Holiday." She was also awarded a special Grammy in 2003 for lifetime achievement and received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.
Clare Fischer, a Grammy-winning pianist, composer and arranger who crossed freely from jazz to Latin and pop music, working with such names as Dizzy Gillespie, George Shearing and Natalie Cole as well as Paul McCartney, Prince and Michael Jackson, has died. He was 83.
Fischer died Thursday at Providence St. Joseph’s Medical Center in Burbank of complications from a heart attack he had two weeks ago, said family spokeswoman Claris Dodge.
Regardless of genre, Fischer’s arranging and composing invariably possessed a rich harmonic palette, one that attracted and influenced other musicians.
“Clare Fischer was a major influence on my harmonic concept,” Herbie Hancock said in a statement on Fischer’s website. Hancock credited Fischer’s arrangements for the 1950s vocal group the Hi-Lo’s with significantly influencing his 1968 recording “Speak Like a Child.”
Cal Tjader-vibes
Clare Fischer-piano
Poncho Sanchez-conga
Robb Fischer-bass
