Paid in Full 3: the Hella Fresh Fest

Thats right yall, back again for the love of Bay Hip Hop...came Paid in Full 3, the Hella Fresh Fest! First of all, we'd like to thank all the fans, heads, and supporters that came thru to kick it with the family. Yall made it another memorable year, helping us to sell out the legendary Fillmore! Much love for being present and being in the house. The idea behind the Paid in Full festival is to showcase the diverse talent in the Bay, and to give new crews the opportunity to rock large crowds.
This year was alittle different, in that we had two shows instead of one. The first show jumped off on November 10th at the Catalyst in Santa Cruz. From the gate, we were up against some adversity because of the persistent drone of rain throughout the night. But, the fans prevailed, packing the house regardless of the sloppy weather outside. Berkeley natives, The Cataracs started off the show to a luke warm reception. It seemed that the weather did have some effect on the restless crowd. Next up were Ashkon and Sayre, a local Santa Cruz clique that held it down with multisyllabic flows and wordplay. San Jose rep Traxamillion then got on and jump started the party with symphonic beats, and a ruckus of stage show. Triple Threat DJ's educated the young crowd with varied hits which stretched throughout hip hop's diaspora. At the highpoint of their turntable wizardry, they were joined by Kafani, and Jern Eye who rallied behind the trio with verses from "Fast" and "Burnin'". To round it out, we hit the stage to an eager, but obviously fatigued audience. They rocked with us, but the constant rain had taken its toll on the overall hype of the night. The show was dope, just alittle bit soggy.
The next night would return to the original birthplace of the festival, the historic Fillmore in San Francisco. From the jump I could tell that the energy was different than the previous night. People seemed lighter on their toes, quicker to smile and breeze forward. Nice. I immediately noticed how young and enthusiastic the folks filling in the floor were. Once again the Cataracs set off the evening's ritual. This time however, their offbeat antics excited the crowd. The best part was when they pulled out two fake spliffs the size of baseball bats and started smoking onstage. What was even funnier was the way the throng of people clawed at the sinking bat as it was gobbled by their hands.
The Bayliens would come next, dropping heat despite technical difficulties. Z Man stormed the stage with his quirky bop and "eeerrrrrreeeeeeyys" intact. A foggy cloud of haze rose above the dimly lit club, the night was just beginning. Traxamillion came in clean, once again with his barrage of slaptastic production. San Quinn, Big Rich, and the Jacka bolstered his already solid stage presence. After this performance, the bar was surely set for the rest of the night. Go hard or go home.
Triple Threat DJ's came thru with some suprises of their own. Once again they brought out Kafani, and Jern Eye, but when special guest Mistah Fab hit the stage with "New Oakland", the crowd went nuts. Clyde Carson backed by Mayne Mannish got busy with his signature brand of radio slumps. I saw a gang of jaws moving in unison as he slid thru his arsenal.
Finally, Zion I shut it down with a multimedia show! It was our first time incorporating visuals synched to the show, and it was ill. The visuals definitely add depth and perspective to the presentation. My favorite parts were: 1. when we dropped into the Heroes set, and Grouch came out, 2. watchin' the crowd go dummy to "Lose Ya Head", 3. Amp's freestyle, mixing into C Holiday and Joy's improvisations.
All in all, it was a truly great night for Hip Hop. One more shout out to all those who helped to make it happen: Live Up Records Staff (thank you!), Cleezy's production class at SFSU, all the artists, Aebl Dee for the tables, OnPoint Productions for the visuals, Myx TV, Traxxpad, and all the fans!!! One love for coming, and see yall next year at "the Hella Fresh Fest"!

Zion I & Redman: Live from Hamburg, Germany

As I write this, bear in mind that I'm off of about 6 hours of sleep for the last 72 hours. Its been a long night to say the least. In fact, its been an extended past 3 days. Here, let me back up and explain.
It all started off on Halloween in Calgary, Canada. It was a brisk night on the windy plains of the oil rich city. Lean towers of glass and metal leaned to and fro as we weaved thru the streets. An anxious crowd awaited us as we pulled up to the spot. It seemed that the two opening groups had neglected to show up...which resulted in a listless crowd at best. We ( Zion I & the Grouch) rumbled to the stage and shook the dusky cavern to life. By the time we arrived back to the hotel it was 4 AM.
At 9 AM we were rolling back to the airport to fly out to Zurich, Switzerland. After layovers in Montreal, and London it felt like I'd slipped into a wormhole. We left on Thursday afternoon and arrived Friday afternoon. Reflecting on the cranky nature of the turbulence and the plastic seating of the plane, I began to think that there was a conspiracy against my much harassed sleeping patterns.
At the Zurich show, we rocked with a plethora of indie stalwarts. In in the house were OC, Eternia, Reef the Lost Cauze, and Illpoetic, amongst others. The youthful crowd, persuaded by the rivers of beer spilling on the floor, bounced and rocked thru the night. I even met a kid who threw up the thizz sign, and requested a set in honor of Mac Dre. In Switzerland though!! Life is a trip. This time we didn't even get to go to sleep. After the show, I went to the hotel, showered, and hopped in a car stuffed with baggage. As we headed to the airport I looked at the time, 4:30 AM. This is becoming a trend. The wackest thing about it was that we had to drive an hour outside of Zurich, to Basel to catch our flight.
We landed in Hamburg, Germany at 9 AM. As soon as I got to the hotel, I fell out and stayed asleep till 5 PM. By 5:30 we were already gliding to soundcheck. We hit the stage at 10. Coming out thru the haze of artificial smoke and lack of ventilation, we gazed out into the sea of eager heads. Yeah, this shit looked dope. There must of been over 1,000 people crammed into the large hollow of a room. All those expectant faces must have done something, because we gathered strength from the ethers and pushed past exhaustion.
Let me not forget to mention that it was hot in the club. I mean, so extreme that both Deuce and I had bouts with lightheadedness from goin just alil too hard. Yet in still, the enthusiastic crowd roared with approval. Hands swayed and faces reeled as we shocked with every ounce of energy in the tanks. It was easily one of the illest shows we've done in Europe. Germany is one of those places that truly appreciates hip hop as an art. Here, the game is not so saturated, the culture is not sold to you with a side order of fries. It is at once more innocent, and less affected.
After we finished, Redman came through and left the spot obliterated. He bounced thru classic after classic proclaiming between songs "Remember when Hip Hop was good??!?" The audience screamed back, in an attempt to rekindle the fires that first sparked Kool Herc and Bambataa.
In the immortal words of R Kelly, "after the show is the after party." Indeed it twas. A rich assortment of ethnicities grooved inside of the club, right across the street on the world famous Reeperbahn. This spot is any party animals dream, as it is known as the red light district of Germany. Strip clubs, sex shops, and ho houses clutter the lenghty blocks which comprise the area. On this night, it was a veritable free for all as young folks, drank and smoked their way into oblivion in the chill night air.
Inside the spot, Africans, Turks, Arabs, Germans, and Asians bounced to the rugged beats pumping out of the system. I couldn't help but smile at the fact this was nothing like the Germany I had ever imagined. I could have been in LA, or NY by the feel of the club. The only difference was that the dancing mass thrilled in "tru skool" beats just as much as Soljah Boy's "Superman". There was even a point at which the dancefloor broke out in a prolonged scuffle of bottle throwing and cursing. I must admit, it was entertaining.
Once again, at around 4:30 AM, we wound up back at the hotel, only to catch a cab to the airport at 5:15. No sleep till Oakland! It was a live trip in all. But, especially Hamburg. It showed me that its the same worldwide, different toilet, same shit.

Zion I and the Grouch @ the CMJ in NYC

Once a year, tens of thousands of hardcore music addicts cluster together in the Big Apple for CMJ. For the uninitiated, CMJ is the College Music Journal which is a music events/publishing company. This is a festival for any kind or type of band on the face of the Earth. From the corniest of pop to the grimiest of punk, to the slickest of hip hop...this is a music festival for music lovers and creators. If you're one of the above, welcome to heaven...
We arrived around Monday evening. I was feeling alittle under the weather, so I chilled at the hotel and watched football, while the rest of the crew went to a Fela party. I can't believe I missed out on it, but it was better to rest at that point. I woke up on Tuesday and headed to Brooklyn to check the homey J Period at his Truelements Studios. The spot was bustling with interns as I waded thru the slew of mixtapes and gadgetry. We chopped it up for a minute..then I headed back to soundcheck.
I met the squad at the Sullivan Room on the Lower East Side. Amp was on stage tinkering with the mpc, grouch teetered in the shadows, and Tim House sqauked on the celly. We checked the system, and it sounded pretty good. Thats always a plus. We left the building feeling a quiet confidence about the night to come.
Upon returning to the club, LadyBug Mecca was on stage. Her steady swag and laid back nonchalance created a heady mist of chill throughout the crowd. Only thing wrong is that the speakers sounded like we were listening thru 10 feet of thick water. The bass warbled out the snare, and made a muddy mess of the whole room. Yuck.
By the time that we limped to the stage it was 1AM. An eager crowd still huddled around the dimly lit stage. We came out to "Smack" and allowed the slump to energize the audience, as well as ourselves. They were slow to warm, but by midshow we had the small multitude with their hands in the air. Grouch slinked side to side with his hat hovering over his face, Amp clapped beats from the 5th dimension, and I bounced sweat to the stars above.
After the show, a couple of ol skool homeys showed up. We chopped game outside in the warm New York air, then decided to keep it movin. We pushed to another club where we posted up, and caught up on old times. Afterwards, we got some pizza, talked more shit and hopped the train to the hotel. Another good night...at the CMJ.

Libra Rising

Thats rite yall...we were all the way live from the Black New World in the Lower Bottoms of West Oakland..Saturday October 6th, 2007. It twas my birthday throwdown, along with that of Marcel Diallo (the mayor of the Bottoms and club owner). Shout out to all the good peoples that came thru to share in the revelry..many blessings to yall. We were doin it family...ol skool wit no holds barred. There were dj's, there was a live freestyle (including 8 musicians and about 12 singers/mcs), there was hip hop, there was reggae, there was church music. The nite waxed and waned like the pulsing ebb of the tides.
We started off wit my folks Raashan Ahmad and Amp Live on the tables. It really didn't even start crackin until around 1:30 in the mornin. An electic assortment of blackness crowded the room. There were artsy cats, spiritualists, turfists, nondescripts and revolutionaries all huddled there under the blanket of big beats. Once we started the cypher jam, the entire energy of the party shifted. Its as if those who wanted to dance eventually faded towards the door, and those who wanted to get involved clustered around the stage. During the 30 minute journey, I felt a drastic degree of feeling. At times I recall feeling elated, as I bounced in ecstasy around the stage. At other times, I felt confounded by the cacophony of word sound. It was like living on life's brutal edge, and embracing the most beautiful and hideous parts of yourself. Deep.
As we unwound from the freestyle bazaar, Afrikan Science took us into the advanced stages of dubhouse texture. Yet, as the night moved forward...the collective yearning for another freestyle spawned itself. Suddenly, the club turned into our holy house of worship. Its hard to explain the music at this point. But I know that it was unlike anything I've heard before. It sounded like black peoples punk rock music. Somethin like Bad Brains, but mixed with gospel roots and blues. It was ill. There were only about 10 people in the club left besides the quintet on stage. Everyone of us was dancin! It was magnetic and alive. There were many bouts of ecstatic leaps and tumbles as the energy engaged every soul that it touched. The spirit was truly in the house.

Stay tuned for further news on the next installment of "the AfterLife" party series....ase..

The Energy Crisis (PEAK OIL)

When I was around 6 years old, I recall the frenzied paranoia of "the Energy Crisis" being slammed thru the media. This was around the late 70's. At the time, the price of gas suddenly jumped to unexpected levels within the course of a few weeks. The impact was felt right away. On the news there were stories of people fighting, and even getting killed trying to purchase gas. There were lines at gas stations that made it feel like we were waiting to get into a packed club. It was both surreal and frightening to my young mind. I was relieved when the prices finally dropped and life returned to normal.
I was first introduced to the concept of "Peak Oil" about 3 years ago. With my memories from childhood, the idea immediately caught my attention. In short, the concept is that in the near future, the maximum production rate of petroleum will be reached. At this point, petroleum production worldwide will enter a terminal decline. This does not mean that oil will actually run out, but that the supply of cheap conventional oil will drop dramatically. After this happens, supply will decrease, while demand will increase. This will create a steep increase in gas prices, as well as all other petroleum based products.
We must understand that it requires energy to discover and refine oil. The "cheap conventional" oil that has been discussed is also known as sweet crude oil. It is light and easy to refine. Once this supply is gone, it will require more time and energy to process oil so that we can use it in the capacity that we are used to.
It sounds rather simple, yet, below the surface is a foreboding truth. In a sense, we live in a carbon based society. Gas is the most obvious thing that will effect us directly. Prices at the pump will never return to the .75 cent prices that I once knew. From here on out, its only going up. But, all plastic products will also become more expensive, as oil is the basis of our most pliable material. This means computers, cars, toys, bottled water, and the list goes on. In fact, think about air travel, or the trucks that deliver food to our grocery stores. As travel becomes more expensive, the products delivered will bear the price tag.
From my standpoint, this gives me greater insight as to why our government is so persistent in having a foothold in the Middle East. Its all about controlling oil, intimidation and maintaining power. In order to secure our luxurious American lifestyle they send young people off to die. Yet, if our government knows that oil production will inevitably peak, how come our so called "leaders" are not making a push to create viable energy alternatives?
Lets be clear, oil cannot be manufactured. It is a by-product of this loving Earth, which we have used and abused. Now, she tires of our greed, and soon will no longer supply us her life blood. Well, she does offer other ways to produce energy. There is solar, geothermal, hydroelectric, and wind power which could all help to bear the brunt of the impact of lessening oil supplies. Why hasn't the United States government alerted its populace to the growing menace that oil has become. Why wait till the 11th hour to take strides to address the situation? With the Bush family's oil legacy, the questions abound.
I am simply writing this to stimulate thought about a situation that could have dire consequences. I pray that our government in the near future has the presence of mind to encourage proactive response. We can no longer accept this irresponsible leadership.

My First Erykah Badu Show

Yeah...I know..some a yall gon call ya boy late. Okay, I can accept that. I mean, it has been almost 10 years since Badu came out and altered the landscape of R&B as we know it. Her decidedly bohemian flair, fused with hip hop authenticity "changed the game"...so to speak. On Sept. 29th she along with, After 7..Loose Ends...and Guy swept thru the Bay.
To set it off, possibly on the wrong foot, we arrived slightly late. By the time we parked the car, and walked to our seats, After 7 was wrapping up what appeared to be a energetic performance. My girl let me hear it about that. Keep it moving. Next up was the British soul of Loose Ends. This was also a revolutionary group back in the day. They introduced a more digital sound to soul music during the early 80's. As they cruised thru their set, I have to admit that the crowd didn't seem to know much of their music. Guy, or rather, Aaron Hall with a band pimped the stage next. Really though, after seeing this dude, its quite obvious where R Kelly derived his swag. He came out to start the show in a clean suit, trump tight. By the second song, dude had his shirt off and was in the crowd! The "nasty man" lived up to his ol skool accolades by declaring that he needed more than one woman as a small sea of black women clawed at him. It was entertaining, but overall, underwhelming. He seemed more concerned with exhibiting his star power, than rocking the stage. Still, I got to give him props for his preacher gon awry steez.
After much anticipation, Ms. Badu hovered to the stage. Her poofy beehive hair, and stunners with no lenses blended perfectly with her jetsonesque black space girl vibe. From the intro, it was on. The most impressive thing to me was her willingess to fulfill her audience's expectations. She had her tea, her willing assistant to give her towels when she perspired, and a skirt which fit her curves quite lovingly. Some of her lyricism appeared to go over the head of the crowd. When she gave a shout to J Dilla, a chill went thru the air. This is that real. Another aspect of her show that was dope was her use of an MPC onstage. At any given moment, it seemed she would pull the MP close, and tap out a booming beat. It was raw, unpredictable, and at the same time grounding.
In essence, she killed it. Her confidence, swag, and ill finesse convinced me. Next time she's in town, I'll be there to witness both the spectacle and the myth of Ms. Erykah Badu. Ites!

For those who don't know...here's a taste...

The Big Deal over Michael Vick

Oh woe to the avid sports fan who drools over the fantasy lives of professional athletes. Woe to the media for overvalueing athletes and entertainers in a country that is in desperate need of economic and educational reform. In 2007, it is obscene that an athlete, albeit great, can be crucified on national television for dog fighting. It is almost illogical, though I do understand the underlying message being sent.
In my estimation, the message is "entertain us like a good little n**** and we'll treat you like royalty, get out of line and we'll make an example of you". Now, in no way do I sponsor the wanton violence of dog fighting. Nor, do I sponsor animal cruelty in general. But I wonder if these same people question the savage practices which bring beef, pork, and chicken to their dinner table. Its okay to be cruel if we eat the animal. Allright, I get it. In fact, I have two wonderful pups of my own. Yet, I do question the importance of dogs in human society. Yes, they are fun and lovable pets, but is the life of an animal more important than that of a human being? I guess it depends on who you're talking to. I can't count the number of times when I've encountered stories about old well to do ladies that have lost their dogs on the news. They are willing to offer tens of thousands of dollars in order to get their dog back. But, when a young black or latino man gets shot in the "hood", it doesn't even make it to the news. In reality, the most you may see about it is a quick paragraph in the back of your local paper somewhere. To add to this, never is any money given "publicly" by individuals to aid in social causes which would benefit these communities in dire need. With that being said, are the lives of dogs more important than the lives of lower income citizens in America? In many cases, yes.
Indeed, Michael Vick broke the law. A high level athlete of his calibur should know what he's dealing with. It is impossible to be that visible and go around making bone head moves. The media in this day and age spares noone. Just look at how Britney Spear's has cracked under the spotlight, but the spotlight still refuses to give her the privacy she needs to heal. It is a cruel and resilient irony that the same system that builds you up, can tear you down just as fast. Yet, there is still the question of entertainment value via reality news. Its as if we like to see those viewed as infallible to show their weakness. The weaker they become the better for ratings. The lower our "stars" come down to earth, the more we prey on them. It is rather sadistic, sick and twisted.
I wonder if any of these hillbillies who currently want to lynch Michael Vick would feel the same way if it was their son being carted away for dog fighting. Would people be lined up coast to coast to chime in with their chants of "throw him in jail"?? I doubt it. The son of a hillbilly would be expected to fight dogs in America's eyes. But, a Michael Vick, thats alittle bit more interesting. Honey, get the popcorn ready..the shows about to start. Think about it.

Friday Night

This last Friday night, I had an epiphany. I discovered that I've been desensitized...numbed to the casual waste of lives around me. Its quite scary to even admit that. At the same time, its just a result of living in a warzone. After a while, the gunshots just fade into the backdrop, and life goes on.
My awakening occurred this past Friday night. I was rolling with my girlfriend from Taco Bell of all places. She had the idea to go check out "Black New World" a club near my house in the lower bottoms of west Oakland. Cool. Its something that we always do since its so close, and its generally a chill vibe there. As I made a left on to Pine street, I was immediately shocked at the sight of a man laying on his back near the next intersection. Something about it sent a feeling of dread through me, and I wanted to turn the car around and go home. Instead, we drove up to the figure, and found a man with gunshot wounds in his stomach, struggling to stay alive.
It must have just happened, because one of the neighbors from nearby was already calling the police as people slowly streamed out of their homes. I couldn't believe that we had haphazardly discovered this grisly scene. We parked the car and joined the growing cluster surrounding the man, encouraging him to live. As I looked at his wounds and his breathing pattern, it became apparent to me that he would not survive. One girl starting crying as her spouse implored her to do CPR to save the man. People prayed and counseled over his body, trying to give whatever help they could. Yet, it didn't seem that anyone actually knew this man.
As the police arrived, the small circle surrounding him dispersed. Seconds later, the fire department rolled up with a stretcher. Yet, as they inspected the poor man's body, they found him lifeless. My girlfriend shed a tear. I sat dispassionate, disgusted by what I've become accustomed to, and to some degree accepted in my life.
Violence surrounds us at every turn. On the television, in movies, videogames, and music. So rampant, and easily digested, that we barely recognize its hideous head. Well, last Friday night, I witnessed the ugly face of gun violence. Its less entertaining in person, it cuts deep, and snatches away dreams. I can't accept violence in my community as a side effect of the hood. It is my duty to get angry enough that I'm inspired to fight against it. Otherwise, I'm the silent majority, accepting the crude legislation of socioeconomic hardship.

re: The Jena 6

Greetings to the worldwide blogging community. This is my first blog, and you can probably tell that I'm quite elated. But, since I'll be speaking about the infamous Jena 6 case, this will be a baptism by fire. The whole situation reeks of 50's era conservatism, ignorance, and the classic fabric of American racism.
The following video gives an indepth analysis of the social underpinnings of small town Jena, Louisiana. A town which is 85% white, where several black students were beaten and even threatened with a shotgun in the previous weeks leading up to the retaliation beating of the white student. Since when has it been okay to beat black students and go unpunished, but when one white boy gets knocked out, all of a sudden the charge becomes attempted murder!?!
We can no longer, as the Hip Hop communitiy stand to the side and allow unjustice to go unchecked. Rappers are quick to guntalk when its beef with another artist, but won't step up and say anything when our young brothers are getting mistreated like jim crow is still in effect. Its really quite sickening. Yet in still, the news blasts the latest update on OJ Simpson's latest catastrophe, but barely whispers about the galvanizing protests arising in Jena.
It is my hope that we take note of the rushing tide of ignorance that has swept thru our country as of late. From Don Imus's "nappy headed hoes", to Michael Richard's n word tirade, to Megan William's being tortured for days by 6 white people (2 men, 2 women, a girl and boy), back to good ol' Jena, Louisiana. We...need to wake the fuck up.