Day 24: Food & Liquor (2006) by Lupe Fiasco

For having such a huge music collection, I've only done one hip hop album, which was Mos Def's "The Ecstatic." I figured I'd add one more to the collection since I'm a pretty big hip hop head. But I guess a little background on my experience with music is needed to better understand how I feel about this album. 


My first real introduction to music was when I was in 6th grade. Coming from a religious family, my parents wouldn't allow me to listen to any music that wasn't Christian. Up to that point, I had little knowledge of any secular music. I didn't even know who Tupac was when I heard he died! Crazy, huh?


But when I got to 6th grade, I got my first taste of hip hop (and r&b, to an extent) riding the bus every morning and evening. The bus driver would tune to Power 106, and I would listen to the songs until my stop came by, which was always the last stop. But I fell in love with it. I began to listen to music behind my parents' back, reciting songs and at points trying to come up with songs of my own. I sometimes stayed up til 2 or 3 in the morning listening to music on my clock radio. It was a whole new world for me.


That went on until high school. By that point, I began to learn how to play guitar. For those few years, I kind of dismissed hip hop as being crude, materialistic, and completely watered down. I had very few hip hop acts in my collection. In my opinion, rock music was the best music, and hip hop was just a sad excuse for taking advantage of people's ignorance. You also didn't have to be talented to listen to or to make hip hop. I was, at best, an elitist, hating on brothers and sisters who made some cash on their fame. 


It took my boy Illyz AKA John Cabiles to really reintroduce me back to hip hop. Hahaha...I remember how he got me thinking, although I may not remember the exact words. It was my first time living with Illyz. We were 19 and I was discussing the few hip hop artists that I supported at the time, including Kanye West, claiming that he was the exception to the rule of violence and misogyny within hip hop. Illyz began to discuss the artists that got no support, including one of the hip hop groups that I fell in love with known as Binary Star. He discussed the different types of rhymes that you can find by searching for music. 


Well, if I was an elitist before, then I Super-Saiyaned to an ultra elitist. Now, it was all about the "underground." Fuck the "mainstream." I was different and I was cool for it. Which is ironic, because people feel superior to others for not listening to their obscure music. But in reality, it's like being at a party where you're the only guest. No one else is gonna care.



Elitist super-saiyan: taking about 4 episodes to finish transformation. 


Anyways, it wasn't 'til I lived with my boy Rex that I actually began to listen to music from a different point of view. Living with Rex was like having a DJ in your house. Every day it was some new form of music (mostly hip hop, but he still had a diverse taste in music). Maybe it was because he was musician that he was able to understand the beauty of music in all it's different forms. Either way, I was inspired. It was actually because of him that I began this little mission.


There is one last dude that I have to bring up. And this will bring it full circle. My boy Ryan, one of the guys I met while working Camp Paintrock, was a living archive of black music. At that point, I still hated on mainstream hip hop. But then Ryan called me over one day and put his headphones on my head. On it was playing Lupe Fiasco's "American Terrorist." Holy shit, it blew my mind! It was honest. It was raw. And it spoke to me. I promised I would get that album one way or another. 


And this is where I'm at with my relation to music. It took me a while in my journey, but I got to a point where I realized: why hate? Music is subjective. That which I think is dope may not be dope to someone else. And why not look at music from a someone else's perspective? You may find that you like it. 


Now I love music. I love to listen to it, I love to create it, I love to talk about it. I want to dance to it, I want to sing at the top of my lungs, I want to smash guitars and just feel the energy rush through my soul. I just want music.

If Snoop says so...

I'm still a bit of a hater, no lie. But I'm more aware of it. I try to give all music a chance. There's still music I don't like, but hey, not everything is my cup of tea. But sometimes you can find gems like this album. This album is personal, enlightening, funky, and just straight good. And I just needed to be more open with myself to truly appreciate it.


It took a lot of growing up to begin to think of music in different terms, but a few of my boys definitely had to nudge me towards the edge. So thanks to my boy Illyz for reintroducing to a genre of music that I love dearly, Rex for helping me think differently about music in general, and Ryan for showing me that mainstream music can be good music. You guys were definitely catalyst in my musical journey.


Anyhow, love all music, and love each other. I'll see you on the other side.


Peace, bruthas and sistas.

Day 23: Buena Vista Social Club (1997) by Buena Vista Social Club

6:00 PM

So I'm taking a Spanish class this quarter that focuses on Latin American film. The professor is pretty chill, although sometimes he says some thing that are straight out of left field. "So this film is an example of neorealism that was popularized by Italian filmmakers, focusing on everyday aspects of life, like work, school and THE AMERICAN PIG MUST DIE!" Now imagine that being said in Spanish. 

Of course, I'm exaggerating just a bit. Just a little. But anyways, obviously, we must watch lots of Latin American films, all in Spanish. Tonight, I have to go to a screening of a film called "Harvest of Loneliness: The Bracero Program." From the little that I know, that shit was fucked up.

9:11 PM

Yeah...that shit was fucked up. I got out of the screening about 1 hour ago, and went to the library. But the whole time that I walked up Ring Road, I couldn't help but become distressed. In this film, I saw faces that looked like mine, except the joy had been beaten out of them. You can see how ashamed they were. And I feel ashamed. Agricultural industries took advantage of these men and their dreams. They were promised 10 times what they could make in their countries, only to have their overlords immediately go back on their word while working in the U.S. It pains me to see these men, now old men and with grandchildren, to break down at the mere thought of the hardships they had to endure. Leaving their families to hopefully send money home, only for them to have to spend their 15 dollars a week of money on food, food that was promised to them in a contract that was never upheld. In the end, many were left with only pennies to their name. 

Let's not forget the hardship that they faced in actually getting to the U.S. Many had to traverse to shipping stations, only to be wrangled like cattle.

IF chosen, they were packed into trains, where they would travel whole nights without sleep. Many couldn't find places to use the bathroom, so they had to do it where they were. It's reminiscent of the Middle Passage, where stolen Africans were forced to endure horrible conditions for months. In this sense, these laborers were lucky. But any injustice is still enough to bring a man to tears.

Once arriving, these men were to endure further dehumanizing examinations, many to only be told they were not good enough to work and sent home. Those that stayed were stripped naked and forced to be "decontaminated." This decontamination included being sprayed from head to toe in DDT. Yeah, that DDT. The insecticide that we learned is a possible carcinogen and a leading cause of the decreasing numbers in bald eagle populations. These poor men had it sprayed in their faces so as to not contaminate Americans. 

Once the decontamination phase is over, these Mexican migrants were given one of two shifts: 5AM to 5PM or 5PM to 5AM. They were denied water until they finished their work, many suffering from extreme dehydration. When not at work, up to 2000 men were crammed in small living quarters, whose temperatures would reach 120 during the summer. Many died, and no retributions were given to their families. Those that didn't die were left sick or injured for the rest of their lives.

This had deep effects on their families, many who had small children who could not see their fathers. Wives suffered, not having enough to spend on their children, falling into deep debt. And just the pain of being away from a loved one was unbearable. Seeing one of the wives of a bracero break down in front of the camera almost brought me to tears, reminding me of my own mother.

At first, listening to Buena Vista Social Club, a Cuban album, was a mere joke as to get me in the "mood" to see a movie about Latinos. But it's no longer a joke. It truly pains me to see my people and people of color from all over the globe being exploited by the greedy and corrupt. People always tell me I should be grateful that I have the opportunity that I have to study and be happy in this country. Many people have told me "You're an American. You enjoy these liberties. Stop bitching about it." 

I am grateful to have this opportunity. But at what cost did I get this opportunity? How many lives had to be destroyed for me to live in this land of milk and honey? How do you expect me to ignore the truth and not get angry? 

The sad thing is that we're so comfortable we don't give it a second thought. It's in the past; why should it concern me? But when you think that people to this day are being exploited and civil liberties are being abused in the name of "freedom," it's hard to ignore.

I found myself praying for the first time since my sister was in the hospital. I don't know to who or what, but I could only ask: why? Maybe the answer won't come from the heavens, but I know the answer is in the hearts of good men and women that see the truth of the matter.

That'll be all for tonight. I hope that maybe I have enlightened you in some sense. But as always, enlighten yourselves.

Nothing but love, as always.

Peace bruthas and sistas...

Day 22: The Information (2006) by Beck

Well fuckadoodle doo! This shit is annoying. I had a whole fucking post done, ready to be published, and BAM! Fucking blogspot says that there's conflicting editing going on at the same time, but instead of saving it, it just fucking goes and erases my post! Shit!


So lemme briefly summarize what I wanted to talk about. Also, I have some nifty pictures. Let's see...

• White people are my friends, although I may hate on them...a lot. Listening to Beck is my way of making it up to you.

• The Lakers won, so I shall celebrate by saying LAKERS!

• I think I have the dopest professor, Sohail Daulatzai. 

• Beck is all over the place. In a good way. 

• I want the kids at the camp to sing the phrase "One by one, I'll knock you out" from the song "Cellphone's Dead." Hopefully, Beck can make it out.

• I'm proud of my little brother for going out of his comfort zone and busting a flow with me. 

Let's see...yup. That's basically it. The rest of the sentences were just filler, anyways. But seriously...fuck!

Alright, bruthas and sistas. Sorry for cutting this short, but I really should get to sleep. If I even try to remember whatever nonsense was in the post that was meant to be, I'd probably go insane. In the meantime, hold tight, and tomorrow I promise I'll bring it better. 

Peace, bruthas and sistas!

P.S. With my last sentence, I curse Blogspot!!!

Comic Book Review: Miracleman Issue #1 (March 1982) to Issue #19 (November 1990)

Writer(s): Alan Moore, Neil Gaiman

Artist(s): Garry Leach, Alan Davis, Mark Buckingham

General Summary

Michael Moran is an everyday working class husband, unspectacular in every sense of the word. He's fat, getting old, and incapable of having a child with his wife. He's a journalist plagued by migraines and dreams of flying, only to wake up every night to reality of life. He is haunted by images he cannot understand, but most of all, by a word that he cannot remember.

One day, while on assignment at a nuclear power plant, the crowd of people he is within is attacked by masked men with machine guns. Suddenly, suffering from an intense migraine that debilitates him, he is dragged by the men, only to pass a sign. On the sign, he reads the word "atomic." Only he sees it upside down. Cimota...Kimota. Suddenly, it rushes back to him. He whispers the word, and with a flash of lightning, he becomes Miracleman!

Blessed with flight, super speed, super strength and invulnerability, he is the living incarnation of the superman. He is perfect, all that Moran wasn't. Things seem to finally be looking up.

This, however, is when his problems begin. The world's "first" superhero is not alone. He finds a formidable and terrifying enemy in his former sidekick, Kid Miracleman, whose alter ego has become more powerful as a result of never having reverted back to his secret identity of the young Johnny Bates. Also, as Moran continues to unearth his past, he begins to realize that his comical and fantastic origins were lies, discovering that the truth is more disturbing and chilling than expected. Men and former friends from his past begin to reappear left and right, and his marriage begins to strain from the weight of Miracleman. Add that to a growing inferiority complex, and we have a man who's blessings have begun to look more like curses.

But like any great hero, he gradually overcomes these obstacles one by one, but not without great sacrifice. After one final horrifying battle with Kid Miracleman, we see not the death of a man, but the birth of a god.

What I Liked About It:

So I was debating as to which comic I should start my comic book guide with. I consulted with my friends, all of which gave me sound advice, but I decided to start off with the most recent book that I have read. Technically, I am still reading it, but I've read enough to be able to give my critique on it. But I've also decided to start off with this book to prove a point: the superhero genre can be amazingly deep with social critiques and themes.

And this book is incredibly dense. You can read issue 1 and not realize that it's only one issue. Sometimes it feels that a whole story arc can play itself out in just one issue. In the first issue, we are presented with a backstory in the form of a 1950s-styled comic, an reintroduction of Miracleman (like Captain America, he had been forgotten), a possible origin story and the first major villain in Kid Miracleman.

Alan Moore writes in the manner that Charlie Kaufman wrote his movie "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind": sometimes dialogue and scenes don't make sense in the beginning, but the twists and turns start to make sense as you finish the issue. There were many nights where I could barely get passed an issue because I had to reread pages. I could barely get passed the first three issues for almost a week.

This, however, isn't necessarily bad. Just 'cause you have some critical analysis in a comic book doesn't mean it's boring. On the contrary, the amount of analyzing provides with some real questions about life. What is power? Who has it? Would one really be better if one were powerful? Or is this just a reflection of one's own self-worth?

The story ends with an examination of power. Even if intended for "good," is it justified?

Spoiler alert: Kid Miracleman has also become one of my favorite supervillains. Ever. Period. He is batshit crazy. And when I mean crazy, I mean way crazier than the Joker, the supervillain standard for insanity. Let's put it this way. While waiting for Miracleman to confront him, he passes the time by destroying a city and killing and mutilating all its inhabitants. And I do mean everyone: men, women, children, the elderly. Everyone. In one scene, he spares a woman, claiming that she was the only one to be kind to him. One panel later, he reappears and pounds her head in, saying, "I'm sorry. They'd say I was going soft, wouldn't they?" Holy shit.

Recommendations:

I would recommend this to fans of Alan Moore. And by that, I don't mean fans of Watchmen. I don't mean this as a condescending remark. Watchmen is by far Alan Moore's greatest work, his magnum opus, but it's also one of his easiest to read. If you've read his other works like V for Vendetta, Tom Strong or even Swamp Thing, you'll find that this man loves to place multiple layers in all his words and dialogue. His stories jump from one perspective, time period, and theme to another, which can make it hard to focus. Later in the series, it passes off to Neil Gaiman, which is a great writer himself, and the stories become more focused but broad in scope, focusing on not just Miracleman but everyone impacted by his appearance.

I wouldn't recommend this book if you're just looking for a fun superhero story. I highlight "just" because this is a fun superhero comic book, but it's also quite depressing and scary at times and extremely thought-provoking. Also, the artwork isn't as fun as, say, Todd MacFarlane's run on Spider-man. It's still beautifully drawn, but not quite as dynamic, focusing on a more realistic take of the superhero.

Day 21: Lay It Down (2008) by Al Green

I don't know if you caught the pattern yet, but I'm really digging Al Green right now. So far I've done his greatest hits and "Call Me." This is the last album I have of his, which I recently downloaded. It's also his most recent release. I saw that one of his producers was ?uestlove from The Roots. Hmmm, I said. I'm intrigued. But this will be the last one since I really should move on to other artists. I think in the future, I'm gonna do whole weeks dedicated to certain artists (Best of Barenaked Ladies week...we'll see). But that's for the future to decide.

It must suck for established artists to create new fanbases. They either have to change their whole style up and hope to not alienate older fans or keep coming out with the same shit they have been doing and hope their fans aren't slowly dying of old age. But every once in a while, just the right mix happens.

Okay, I know it seems like I've been straddling Al Green the last couple of days, but I really can't say anything bad about this guy. I love the fact that he has embraced youthful producers like ?uestlove and James Poyser. I also love that he shows mad love to younger cats like John Legend, Anthony Thompson and Corrine Bailey Rae. But what I love most is that he stays true to himself. He's not trying to be Justin Timberlake or R. Kelly or Chris Brown. He can only be Al Green, and he does it with grace and style like no other.

Don't be like this guy.

Or this guy.

Now, like I said, what he does best in this song is make an album with that signature Al Green sound but without sounding stale. Once in a while, you can hear ?uestlove's influence in the hardness of the drums, that boom boom bap that makes you bob your head.

My whole take on Al Green: can't go wrong with a legend. Sometimes there's artists that dog the new school method of thinking, but when an older cat embraces the youth, it's like going to the playground when you were little with your pops and playing ball with you, telling you bout back in the day, and listening to you rattle off about all the different colors in the Crayola box. Yeah, sometimes young people can seem dumb, but how can you not love them. They're so full of energy, willing to take what you teach them and applying it to their own style. Remember, at one time you were that kid sticking crayons up your nose.

Dopest kid I know right now.

So next time younger person annoys the shit out of you, just laugh it off. Gotta remember that you can't make an omelet without breakin a few eggs. Hey, soon, you'll be breaking a few hips and other important bones too. Hahaha...

Nothing but love over here.

Peace, bruthas and sistas!

Day 20: As I Am (2007) by Alicia Keys

I just somewhat challenged my Professor of Hip Hop Culture to a rap battle. Hahaha...not really. Someone suggested that for extra credit we should write a flow. He jokingly said that he finds that scary since it's hard to listen to bad rhymes. I yelled out, "How do you know we're bad?" The class laughed and kinda was like "oh snaps!" Hahaha...but again, not really.

Since this is my blog and my blog only, maybe I'll just write down my notes for class for today. I know this probably has nothing to do with Alicia Keys' album "As I Am," but fuck it. I could do whatever I want.

Hahaha...naw. I'm just playin. As much as I love hip hop and the politics of hip hop, I gotta get out of that mind set sometimes.

Aight, the last couple posts have been a bit political in nature. Tonight, I'm gonna do a little self-indulging.

First off, I didn't expect what I got from this album. I'm a huge fan of soul and r&b, but Alicia Keys just hasn't been bringin it for me the last couple of years. She had some really great early singles like "Fallin'," "A Woman's Worth," "You Don't Know My Name," and "Diary." And let's not forget "If I Aint Got You." But her last few singles were a bit bleh to me. A little more poppy, a little less soul.

So I have really been putting off listening to this album for a while. I believe I got this album from my buddy Daryl when he was giving me his collection of albums about two years ago or so. It was part of the package including T.I., some Daft Punk, Radiohead and Jay-Jay Johanson. I've listened to just about every other album, but this is the last one that I've taken time to listen to.

And damn. She surprised me. There are some pretty soulful songs in this album. Songs like "Where Do We Go From Here" and "Wreckless Love" made it easier to listen to songs like "No One." Like my girl Linda "Smash" from Culinary Combat said to me, the album is better than its singles.

Speaking of Smash, we been jammin together for the last few months, along with Tostada on rhythm guitar and Marino on drums. She mad kills it when we jam. Great singing voice. I play lead guitar, although I'm probably gonna move to bass. I think that's where my skill will be best used. Anyhow, together we are SOLO ENSEMBLE (shameless plug). All we're doing is covers for now, but once we get more accustomed to playing together, we'll come out with original stuff. Now if only we can get my girl Jean to come out. You remember her? The one that almost fought Humpty Dumpty in the first post. Yeah, she can fill it in with the keys.

Imagine this in a mini skirt.

Anyhow that is all for today. I'm dead tired and I gots to go teach some kids to read in the mornin. Join me tomorrow when I do another Al Green album, Lay It Down.

Peace, bruthas and sistas!

Day 19: The Ecstatic (2009) by Mos Def

Okay, this post had to be done a little earlier for two reasons. One, I just finished listening to The Ecstatic while studying for my Hip Hop Culture Class. Two, because I just finished reading a paper about a topic that has always made me reflect on myself and the state of the world, that is, misogyny and homophobia in hip hop.

I have to start by saying that I love Mos Def. He is and will forever be one of my favorite emcees. I think this album is his best since Black on Both Sides, maybe even better than that one. But for all the good that Mos talks of in his songs, there are some things that, as I've explained to many of my friends, truly depress me. His stance on homosexuality is one of them. Lyrics such as:

"Cats who claimin' they hard be mad fag/ so I run through 'em like flood water through sandbags"

-Re-Definition, off of "Mos Def and Talib Kweli are Black Star"

He aint the only one. Eminem (another emcee that I completely admire for his skill) has made a career as one of the most gifted lyricists through his excessive use of the word "fag." 50 Cent had this to say in an interview with Playboy:

"I ain't into faggots. I don't like gay people around me, because I'm not comfortable with what their thoughts are. It's OK to write that I'm prejudiced. This is as honest as I could possibly be with you…But women who like women, that's cool."

Sigh...it saddens me. I'll give it to Kanye, who openly brings the question of homosexuality and hip hop to the forefront. Other rappers blatantly ignore it. When emcees Busta Rhymes, Mos Def, an Talib Kweli were confronted with the question of homosexuality in the documentary "Hip Hop: Beyond Beats and Rhymes," Busta Rhymes said

"I can't partake in that conversation. That homo shit? I can't talk to you about that. I ain't trying to offend nobody, but what I represent culturally doesn't condone it."

I get it. Your religion doesn't approve of homosexuality. It's part of who you are. I get that. But Christianity (I'm sure Busta is Muslim, but for the sake of argument) disapproved of mixing different fabrics together. So all those Christians out there who are wearing 60% polyester and 40% cotton, you are blatantly sinning. Women who were menstruating had to leave their homes for a week straight. Race mixing was also thought of as sinful as late as this past century. And don't say I don't know the Bible. I've read it 3 times, front to back.

In this sense, at least Talib confronted the question. Mos and Busta left the studio almost immediately. So mad love to Talib. His name is truly in the middle of equality.

Let's not forget our women. I don't think I really have to say it, but hip hop has become an arena where we openly degrade our women. Bitches and hos are the norm. We praise a woman for being light-skinned and dog them for having "nappy" hair. Women lose any sense of identity in our culture, being referred to by asses and tits. Now, some emcees do this more often than others. In this sense, Mos is progressive with such songs as "Brown Skinned Lady." But it's come to a point where I can't ignore it. I've heard too many beautiful women openly say they didn't feel beautiful. Well, that's bullshit. All women are beautiful. Doesn't matter what shape, size, or color, I'm here to tell you that you are beautiful. It is in your so called imperfections that you stand out. Fuck it. We can be perfectly imperfect together.

I want to make it clear that hip hop is NOT the only perpetrator, nor does it create the conditions for these biases to reproduce. No, hip hop is only merely a reflection of this American hyper-masculinity. We idolize the strong, unyielding man who shows no emotion. Vulnerability is despised and we refuse to seek assistance. As a result, homosexuals, lesbians and women are thought of as weak if they don't conform to this white, heterosexual male standard. As a result, even men suffer.

Look, I'm not saying that men should cry at every sunset, we are all homosexuals, and we should bow to everything that women want. I'm not even saying that I'm exempt of this criticism, cause I'm not. I'm also guilty of homophobia, misogyny, and even racism. What I'm saying is that by portraying men and women in these limiting terms, in an "us vs. them" dichotomy, we are neglecting that which makes the world and our species so diverse. I am a man, but I am more than a man as well. We are humans, and that encompasses all aspects of being human.

Vulnerability is not this guy although it can be.

I don't mean to be preachy. It's just something that I've always thought was important to discuss. Anytime I try to have this discussion with many of my male friends, I almost immediately get called a pussy, fag, bitch, homo, etc. I get accused of homosexuality as if it were something negative. Fuck it. Call me gay. I rather be gay than ignorant. I rather be compared to a female than to be insensitive. I know who I am. Maybe it's time we all took a look in the mirror. Like Dr. King said, "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere."

Anyhow, nothing but love to all the children of the world. I hope you can feel me on this.

Peace, bruthas and sistas.