Hey family,
Well, of course I have yet another story to tell. It's about when I first fell in love with H.E.R., aka "Hip-Hop." Flashback with me to the early 80's...
A young snot nosed kid was walking down the street in his hometown of Albany, NY, heading towards the basketball courts. The courts was buzzing with the usual people, but there was this one particular circle of "older heads" who I thought was "fresh to def." What had me mesmerized was the music that I heard coming from their direction. I was stuck on stupid when I heard the bass kick sounds booming from a LL Cool-sized "box". It was like nothing I'd ever heard before and much different from the Grover Washington Jr., Stevie Wonder and Parliament that my Pops constantly played. The "older heads" were smoking weed, drinking 22s and rocking shirt-king styled shirts, suede pumas and silk running suits talking about how dope the drum beats were to this strange new music. (I couldn't make this up ya'll)
The convo went like this:
ME: "What are you guys listenin' too?"
Young Hood 1: "This is grown folks music, lil' ni**a, get outta here!"
ME: "Okay, okay...but what is THAT you are listening to?"
Young Hood 2: Tell him what the fu*king song is so I can smoke my herb in peace...Shi*!
Young Hood #3: (annoyed) This is UTFO....You know who the fu*k UTFO is, lil ni**a?
ME: "No...."
All the Hoods laugh in unison...
ME: "What's so funny?
Young Hood #2: "Because only lames and squares aren't up on hip hop..."
ME: "I'm not a square... (tears well up)
All the Hoods laugh in unison again...
Young Hood #1: Well this definitely ain't music for no crybabys...get outta here!!
I walked away slowly, embarrassed, mad and...curious.
Needless to say, this semi-traumatic experience led me into into a journey that would remain with me forever. I went home and eventually asked a few friends about UTFO. None of my peers knew who they were, but my downstairs neighbor was a local DJ and he just happened to have two twelve inches of "Roxanne, Roxanne" that he just bought. He told me that if I had a tape, he would make me a copy.
I ran back upstairs tearing through the house, looking for a blank tape. By the grace of God, (literally) I found one of my mama's old Mahalia Jackson tapes. I stuffed the holes on the top with toilet tissue paper and brought it back down to my DJ neighbor. He made the tape and I rushed back home to play it in my old school, General Electric "box." (Mama, if you reading this, I am sorry that I took the tape and blamed my brother! LOL!)
That whole day, I kept rewinding it and listening to it, rewinding it and listening to it...memorizing the lyrics of Dr. Ice Kangol, and the Educated Rapper. I was particularly fond of Educated Rapper's flow and deliver. Those lyrics still resonate in my head today....
"She thought my name was Harry,
I told her it was Gary,
She said she didn't like it so she chose to call me Barry
She said she'd love to marry,
my baby she would carry
And if she had a baby, she'd name the baby Harry..."
Man, I love hip hop.... Cap-D
Well, of course I have yet another story to tell. It's about when I first fell in love with H.E.R., aka "Hip-Hop." Flashback with me to the early 80's...
A young snot nosed kid was walking down the street in his hometown of Albany, NY, heading towards the basketball courts. The courts was buzzing with the usual people, but there was this one particular circle of "older heads" who I thought was "fresh to def." What had me mesmerized was the music that I heard coming from their direction. I was stuck on stupid when I heard the bass kick sounds booming from a LL Cool-sized "box". It was like nothing I'd ever heard before and much different from the Grover Washington Jr., Stevie Wonder and Parliament that my Pops constantly played. The "older heads" were smoking weed, drinking 22s and rocking shirt-king styled shirts, suede pumas and silk running suits talking about how dope the drum beats were to this strange new music. (I couldn't make this up ya'll)
The convo went like this:
ME: "What are you guys listenin' too?"
Young Hood 1: "This is grown folks music, lil' ni**a, get outta here!"
ME: "Okay, okay...but what is THAT you are listening to?"
Young Hood 2: Tell him what the fu*king song is so I can smoke my herb in peace...Shi*!
Young Hood #3: (annoyed) This is UTFO....You know who the fu*k UTFO is, lil ni**a?
ME: "No...."
All the Hoods laugh in unison...
ME: "What's so funny?
Young Hood #2: "Because only lames and squares aren't up on hip hop..."
ME: "I'm not a square... (tears well up)
All the Hoods laugh in unison again...
Young Hood #1: Well this definitely ain't music for no crybabys...get outta here!!
I walked away slowly, embarrassed, mad and...curious.
Needless to say, this semi-traumatic experience led me into into a journey that would remain with me forever. I went home and eventually asked a few friends about UTFO. None of my peers knew who they were, but my downstairs neighbor was a local DJ and he just happened to have two twelve inches of "Roxanne, Roxanne" that he just bought. He told me that if I had a tape, he would make me a copy.
I ran back upstairs tearing through the house, looking for a blank tape. By the grace of God, (literally) I found one of my mama's old Mahalia Jackson tapes. I stuffed the holes on the top with toilet tissue paper and brought it back down to my DJ neighbor. He made the tape and I rushed back home to play it in my old school, General Electric "box." (Mama, if you reading this, I am sorry that I took the tape and blamed my brother! LOL!)
That whole day, I kept rewinding it and listening to it, rewinding it and listening to it...memorizing the lyrics of Dr. Ice Kangol, and the Educated Rapper. I was particularly fond of Educated Rapper's flow and deliver. Those lyrics still resonate in my head today....
"She thought my name was Harry,
I told her it was Gary,
She said she didn't like it so she chose to call me Barry
She said she'd love to marry,
my baby she would carry
And if she had a baby, she'd name the baby Harry..."
Man, I love hip hop.... Cap-D
PS: For you young'uns who don't know what UTFO stands for, it means Untouchable Force Organization.
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1 comment:
word.
put one up for the educated rapper.
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