Archive of posts tagged with "juke"

October 24th, 2007

Global Ghettotech vs. Indie Rock: The Contempo Cartography of Hip

“Hipster hedonism takes many forms,” wrote Ned Polsky in reply to Norman Mailer’s hipster manifesto of 1957. “Some hipster groups,” Polsky continued, “have everything to do with motorcycles, whereas others have nothing to do with them.”

Similarly, but more in the abstract, in his genealogy of the hipster, “Hip and the Long Front of Color” (1989), Andrew Ross notes that “Hip is a mobile taste formation that closely registers shifts in respect/disrespect toward popular taste.”

Ingrid Monson provides a more specific historical view of these various shifts in hipster style in her 1995 essay, “The Problem with White Hipness,” while attempting to find some unifying themes across time&space:

The idea of hipness and African American music as cultural critique has, of course, detached itself over the last fifty years from the particular historical context of bebop, circulated internationally; it has inspired several generations of white liberal youth to adopt both the stylistic markers of hipness, which have shifted in response to changes in African American musical and sartorial style, and the socially conscious attitude that hipness has been presumed to signify.

Each in their own way, and all together, Polsky, Ross, & Monson thus help us to think through the contemporary “problem” (or problematique, as ebog would have it) whereby the ontology of the so-called “hipster” seems to have had its connotations loosed from Mailer’s sense of the term — that is, an existentialist rebel attuned to the Negro’s “Messianic mission,” as contemporary critic Jean Malaquais sniped. At this point, at least for some, the hipster simply mediates novelty. From such a perspective, there’s nothing much wrong, beyond a certain superficiality, with being a “hipster” — and I appreciate the critique that the term itself has become an overused stereotype that may obscure far more than it reveals. (Srsly, for all the folk I know who might fit facile descriptions of hipsterism, I can’t say that I would call any of them a “hipster.” Stylee, sure. Hipster, no.)

Indeed, some “dirty pigeons” (thx, ebog) so clearly reject any significations of negrophilia and embrace cultural notions of whiteness to such an extent that poptimistic music critics feel a need to pull their card. Dirty pigeons look even dirtier when white, it seems.

It is deeply interesting to me that so many commenters on my earlier post seem to feel that hipster has lost its race-y meaning. Clearly the whiter-than-white indie rock hipster formation is part of what gives us this sense of a “deracinated” hipster. But Sasha’s provocative piece on “musical miscegenation” (or a certain lack thereof) reminds us of the dialogic relationship between the hipsters who, on the one hand, embrace the signs of blackness in a way that would seem rather consistent with hipsters of the past and those who, on the other, seem to do the exact opposite, to retreat into whiteness, as I’ve called it in the past (& Sasha also employs the term retreat in his critique, notably).

If we see Sasha’s critique of lily-white indie rock as articulating the two sides of the hipster coin, diverging manners of engaging with (or retreating into) racial stereotypes, then we see the way that even that form of hip which seems to reject the symbols of African-American culture is still, in its own twisted ways, bound up with the romantic, raci(ali)st caricature of black masculinity and sexuality that so seduced Norman Mailer into thinking that middle-class whites using the right slang and seeking “the good orgasm” were existential rebels a half-century ago. Rock’n’roll, right, SF/J?

Against all of this hairsplitting, Mailer’s essay remains illuminating. It’s quite amazing how much some of its sentiments still resound with contemporary hipster discourse, even if, as many commenters here have protested, being a hipster today seems, in many cases, to have very little to do with a “fascination with / appropriation of” black culture. But as far as I’m concerned — that is, in my attempt to clear my good name understand the circulation of nu-whirled music — those issues of fascination and appropriation are still very much in the foreground. As is blackness (as a lens into an engagement with the exotic). And the way that I’m trying to articulate that side of the hipster coin is to pose a question about, as I’m currently calling it, “the postcolonial hipster” and in particular the resonance of what we might conceive as “global ghettotech.”


the face of ghettotech (RIP)

A quick search on MySpace returns 42 pages worth of artists or groups identifying as (at least one third!) “ghettotech.” And while the majority of those drop-down menu picks may be simply cheeky or whimsical, there are certainly a good number among them that attempt to wave the banner of ghettotech in some earnestness. (Contrary to popular discourse about hipsters, I think that “ironic distance” is actually kinda overhyped as a mode of reception.) Even if somekinda earnest, we have to ask, what the hell does ghettotech mean to all these people? Is it the same thing it meant to Disco D, the popularizer of the term (according to this primer)? Is it the same thing it means in Detroit or Chitown or Bmore or elsewhere where the term is less likely to be used than, say, the far less ghettotastic, “club music” or “dance music” or “booty music”? I doubt it.

Although my own coinage, “global ghettotech” as a term seems to identify a certain sphere of circulation and a certain (in this case, actually ironic) celebration of the ghetto therein. The irony in the celebration is not a distanced form of appreciation, but a product of the glaring (material) contradictions between those who are celebrating and those who are celebrated.

In a timely, reflexive reflection on the rise and fall of kuduro (at least in the hype machine), Guillaume comes right out and talks about the “hipster blogosphere” as the site for these exchanges, these representations of “hard ass” music. (He also calls himself a “white nerd,” which is an important part of all of this, no doubt. And there’s no way I can duck that label.) It is telling that a commenter at the low-bee forum Guillaume points to, asks of kuduro: “could this possibly be the next world bass bashment after baile?” And that sort of says it right there, or at least draws the connections quite clearly. Moreover, a lot of the discourse around kuduro on that forum marks the search for “NEW SOUNDS” and “staying ahead of the curve” as crucial to hipness in a constantly differentiating economy (of cool, of hot, of sounds and ideas), hence creating new niches for exchange value, as Nabeel points out. Returning to Ross, we find some resonance in the following characterization: “Hip is the site of a chain reaction of taste, generating minute distinctions which negate and transcend each other at an intuitive rate of fission that is virtually impossible to record.” In this sense we certainly see how the hipster mediates (and seeks out) novelty. But the novelty here is, I contend, not simply about newness. It’s about black newness (or is it new blackness?) — coded, often enough these days, as bass.



So I wonder whether the ghettobassosphere is not in some sense feeling the same as Sasha: let’s leave behind (or chant down) whiteness and all it represents, let’s embrace bass, space, and syncopation and all the things we could be if middle-class white women weren’t our moms (to paraphrase Charles Mingus).

This sort of critical move, which can no doubt be read as progressive in certain respects, also gets us into some tricky turf, at least vis-a-vis the historical hipster’s problem with primitivism. As Monson contends,

Whether conceived as an absence of morality or of bourgeois pretensions, this [hipster] view of blackness [as transgressive], paradoxically, buys into the historical legacy of primitivism and its concomitant exoticism of the “Other.”

Sasha’s conclusion then, a winking reference to the etymology of rock’n’roll and the “risk” that came with it, brings us right back to what Monson calls, in reference to Mailer’s celebratory tract of 1957, “the bald equation of the primitive with sex and sex with the music and body of the black male.” And though I’m not accusing Sasha of perpetuating these stereotypes too blatantly (and indeed, I think we should go easy on Sasha and applaud him for painting in bold, broad strokes), there’s no avoiding the resonance, the lurking essentialism, no matter how explicitly we may decry or attempt to avoid it.

This relationship between the primitive, blackness, and desire gets rather directly to what seems like a major part of the contemporary problematique of white hipness: the internet permits new “engagements” with the “Other” that are so thoroughly mediated (by discourse, by distance, by comcast) that the sense of “risk” which once animated hipsters heading up to Harlem has become really quite virtual, and hence, hardly constitutes a risk, or transgression, at all.

Global ghettotech projects old loci of authenticity outward: foreign black is the new black. And in this sense the lens through which we hear something like kuduro emerges inevitably from the cultural / economic logic that makes African-American music global, as well as, I suspect (unfortunately), the (post/neo)colonialist logic that carries forward some rather old, if perhaps not outmoded, modes of reception — the ways we hear and make sense of such new, whirled music as funk carioca, kuduro, and the next flavor of the month.

Sure, this is about (the insidious distinctions of) connoisseurship and perhaps there is no getting past that (indeed, expressing a taste for Bourdieu itself stands as a form of distinction within an academic economy of ideas and status), but I really would like to think that what I am doing here on this blog, even when I’m boosting an Argentinian mashapero or an African-American DJ, is much more than engaging with the “hipster” economy — that somehow my own (hopefully explicit and reflexive) exercise of taste on this blog, not to mention as a DJ or professor, has more to do with calling attention to critical blindspots and ways of reading (or not reading) contemporary culture than with a kind of unreflective circulation of the new (black) that largely serves to boost my own status. Call me naive, but don’t call me a hipster.

Getting down to the nitty gritty, this is about class (as Carl Wilson notes w/r/t Sasha’s piece), and hence race, and — crucially — about the digital divides of the internet: the paradox of an unprecedented degree of access to the sort of exotic cultural symbols (from baile pics to grainy youtube vids) that some “hipsters” employ as cultural capital, coexisting with an actual, racialized, class-based process of gentrification in which the very objects of affection / fascination / appropriation are being forced out of the same local spaces that now provide wifi connections for hipsters to do some DLing on the DL. As I wrote in a comment to my hipster post:

The coexistence of this celebration and embrace of difference against a social reality in which, for all the signifiers of cosmopolitanism around us (esp in, say, Brooklyn, or London), the forward march of gentrification continues apace, makes for a vexing paradox: in other words, our post-colonial neighbors are cool enough to download at a distance, but we don’t really want to live together (or do other things together, as Sasha would have it).

— or as Ross concludes: “Hip is the first on the block to know what’s going on, but it wouldn’t be seen dead at the block party.”

To close (for now), I have to admit that even if the idea of “race” is (perhaps) receding in importance for newer generations, or if hip today signifies yet some recognition of “the far from ideal conditions and circumstances under which racial integration [is still] beginning to feel its uncharted way” (to revise Ross), given the enduringly racialized lines of class inequality in the US (= the other side of the white privilege coin) — never mind the way things look when we extrapolate from the “West” to the “Global South” — I find that Ned Polsky’s bracing conclusion, responding to Mailer, remains rather relevant for a cultural moment that puts 50 Cent on a pedestal / virtual auction block (whether he gets money or not in the transaction is, I’d wager, fairly inconsequential):

Even in the world of the hipster the Negro remains essentially what Ralph Ellison called him — an invisible man. The white Negro accepts the real Negro not as a human being in his totality, but as the bringer of a highly specified and restricted “cultural dowry,” to use Mailer’s phrase. In so doing he creates an inverted form of keeping the nigger in his place.

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September 3rd, 2007

Labor Day Special: End His Career!

The NYT published a long profile on Rick Rubin yesterday. It’s a innaresting piece and Rubin’s a helluva producer, executive producer, A&R man, and new-age exec — but he’s not gonna save the music industry.

DJ Nate (via s/fj), on the other hand, provides a good glimpse at the new non music industry. On his MySpace, he shows himself to be an expert uploader-promoter, stacking YouTube videos w/ feet wurkin’ to his beats and embedding an auto-play imeem playlist of his own hopped-up, bass-propelled, fruityloopy productions —

— deese are HEAVY jams, making my laptop speakers vicariously feel woofish, as if the tiny speakers hope to emulate bass with the way they shake, all pathetic plastic tryna vibrate along at lower frequencies than their polymers permit.

DJ Nate’s music is deeply entwined with, engaged with, and inspired by the local scene. It could care less, it would seem, about anything beyond Chi-town & the suburbs. imeem and YouTube are visible from space, sure, but these tracks and vids are for the kids on the block. They’re about burning the nextman footwurker nem, ending his career, and no doubt, if more implicitly, launching one’s own.

This is not the music industry. It’s music industry. It’s how music works, the cultural work that music does, how we work it. We don’t need executives for that. In the words of the wise Rick Rubin, “too many people make and love music for it to ever die.” Even capitalism can’t kill it. Cue ominous outro —

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August 3rd, 2007

Outsourced Analysis #745639: Kwaito Resonance Reflex

On 8/2/07, Sonjah Stanley-Niaah, Dr wrote:

And this one, check this out.. I am interested in your analysis of the dance and music…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IKxhKhLhlb0

Sonjah Stanley Niaah, Ph.D.
Lecturer, Cultural Studies
University of the West Indies, Mona Campus
Crossroads in Cultural Studies Conference 2008: www.crossroads2008.org
Wadabagei: www.lexingtonbooks.com/Journals/wadabagei/Index.shtml

To which I replied:

This one’s (more) interesting (to me right now)! Whereas the last one you sent (which I blogged back in April) seems fairly typical to me in terms of kwaito musical style and perhaps dance style (though it’s obviously quite well choreographed, and to be honest I know far less about kwaito dance), this one seems rather atypical in a number of ways. Musically, it reminds me a lot more of kuduro (that style from Angola I was telling you about) and even Chicago Juke (which a commenter notes as well); you might hear it as similar to soca, which also has some musical overlap with this particular track.

It’s only the drum track that suggests that to me, however; the singing seems a lot more characteristically South African (and perhaps the melodic/keyboard elements, though I’m not sure). Some of the group dancing reminds me of the wedding video — looks like similar moves/choreography, which suggests (to me) that that’s closer to kwaito style. Some of the moves, though, especially the solo dancing, seem to me to perhaps be inspired by Jamaican dances (such as the butterfly-ish stuff at around 3:30). Lots of dance styles being drawn upon here, it seems. Around 4:15 it looks to me like some classic breakdance / robot / bboy stuff — if with a little more bounce in it (those “inverting” feet [there’s probably a better term — my dance vocab is rather impoverished]). Finally, toward the end (around 4:36) there’s some back-to-front grinding that could easily pass for perreo, or just good ol’ win(d)in’, freakin’, jukin’, you-name-it. Great montage! (But I really don’t know what to make of that whole laborer / overseer series of scenes, esp the dancing-in-the-fields denouement.)

w

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May 21st, 2007

It’s Time for the Blog U Later

Sorry for the silence. It’s that time of spring — all mango-con-chili in the park and classes to finish up and articles & anthologies to tie together and whatnot. More soon, tho, I promise.

Meantime, for an early summer bubble fix, I meem you Cajmere‘s classic Chicago house, maximinimal, proto-juke joint, which was apparently a big chune in the Bmore scene way back, and moreover, is a living, breathing, downright YouTubospheric phenom, vying with the Wu-Tang in Philly and who knows what else & where

// 2011 update //

imeem got nuked a long time ago (and all I got was that lousy orange ad), so here’s a YouTube —

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April 10th, 2007

Stage Show Excerpt & Counter Canonical Discourse

If we’re listening for the presence of Jamaica in hip-hop (and hence in NY/US/worlwide), we could attend to such a thing on any number of levels: 1) the occasional 3+3+2; 2) the influence of dub engineering on hip-hop mix aesthetics (e.g., echo, layering, lowend); 3) double-time, flip-tongue, fast-chat flows; 4) accents, cliches, Rasta mantras, and various textual/lyrical references (incl cover songs and interpolated hooks); 5) actual allusions via musical motifs, sampled and sung (a la the Zunguzung meme) —
[audio:http://www.wayneandwax.com/academic/zunguzung-meme.mp3]

Another way to get at such a thing would be to take stock of the specific reggae records that have become staples in the crates of hip-hop DJs — the sorts of sides one hears, almost as a matter of course, at hip-hop events across the US. With the exception of the odd Bob Marley joint, these records are mostly dancehall reggae, esp from the early 90s and around the turn of millennium (see, e.g., this tracklist). This alternate oeuvre offers an interesting representation of reggae, departing significantly from the core repertory for, say, reggae selectors (in the US or elsewhere, bashment or roots). In that sense, given the difference with respect to what might be thought of as a more authoritative position on reggae, hip-hop’s reggae selects a special slice of the genre — and speaks volumes about hip-hop.

It also says a lot about canons. What makes the reggae selector’s reggae canon, for example, any more legitimate (or revealing about reggae’s character) than the hip-hop DJ’s reggae canon? What might hip-hop’s take on reggae tell us not only about hip-hop but about reggae? What would we lose by overlooking hip-hop’s “counter canon,” if you will? I’m not crazy about the term — or about perpetuating canonization — but what I like about the idea of the “counter canon” is the way it decenters canon’s commonplace claim to truth about greatness, calling attn instead to the role of perspective, to (contextual) differences in aesthetic values, to the subjective rather than objective nature of what comes to define a genre.

I’m not prepared to offer an in-depth treatise on hip-hop’s reggae “counter canon” on this humble blog at the moment, but I bring all of this up in order to throw it out there — I suspect there are parallels to other dialectical if asymmetrically interpenetrating formations (to coin a phrase), and I’d love to hear some ideas along those lines — and because last night’s gig proved no exception.

Typically Zebo, Hess, and Chump tend to keep it pretty hip-hop-centric on Monday nights, if with the occasional dip into reggae, bmore, and general clubb eclectica. For my guest visit, tho, they decided to devote the night to reggae. Although I was impressed with the range and depth of the reggae selections they pulled out, including plenty of tracks I’d never heard, I was also happy to hear lots of the classics I figured I would hear (and which I therefore left out of my own set — for the most part — lest I be scooped): Sister Nancy’s “Bam Bam,” Chaka Demus & Pliers’ “Murder She Wrote,” Mad Cobra’s “Flex,” Shabba Ranks’s “Ting-a-Ling,” and so on.

Toward the end of my set, which otherwise mixed 80s digi dancehall (via Jammy’s, Tubby’s, Winston Riley, George Phang) and a fair number of early 90s classics (Super Cat, Cutty Ranks, Buju, Shabba), I started dropping in some more recent reggae/hip-hop remixes, which perhaps point to another (emerging) area of activity in all of this overlap. If nothing else, they offer yet another way to play reggae to a hip-hop crowd, familiar acapella as anchor.

During one mini-set within my set — jugglin riddimcentric as reggae mixes often do — I dropped a number of tracks on Dave Kelly‘s relatively recent Stage Show riddim. If the dancehall tracks themselves weren’t already replete with references to contemporary hip-hop (check Cham’s verse, e.g.), I segue into a couple remixes putting hip-hop pellas ‘pon top. So after the official voicings by Cham, Assassin, and Spice & Pinchers, you’ll hear Ross Hawg — whose been cooking up a slew (stew?) of specials along these lines — walking it out, followed by DJ C mekking you know why we ot, as Junior Reed puts it. At the end of the segment I couldn’t resist dropping a DJ Funk-produced juke remix (via) of that ubiquitous Mims track, which lasts almost as long as the preceding dancehall/hip-hop medley. Sound for thought —
[audio:http://wayneandwax.com/wp/audio/StageShowExcerpt.mp3]
(mpfree)

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April 2nd, 2007

Videyoga #4355: Kwaito Wedding to Popeye’s Parkinglot

Now that’s some footwurk —

&here’s the Chi-town version: jukin over 80s power-ballad refixes —

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January 28th, 2007

What’s Real eHood?

Hot off a week of steady jukeboxin, I got to see/hear/feel DJ Nehpets — Chicago radio’s juke ambassador — alongside localtronix partyrockers Flosstradamus Friday night at Sonotheque. It was a treat to hear those bassy beats through something other than my laptop, and I love that juke — at least as represented by Nehpets — can range from the kind of minimal, synthetic bangers that would swerve the Berlin massive to straight-up Miami-style handclappin partychants. Thanks to Catchdubs for the timely tip, and props for (putting me on to &) putting together this fine piece on the new juke generation, published last summer. (Dude’s got his ears open, nd.)

///

Following on last Sunday’s thoughts on musico-social networks, local production, and DIYDJ culture, I’ve been wondering whether such vibrant, media-rich, share-centric spheres as imeem might provide not only a great way to finally freethedjs but for producers and musicians of all stripes to walk it out.

Right now, tho, it doesn’t seem as if imeem is prepared to tap into this activity and, say, allow someone like DJ Clent to make a little change each time his track is added to someone’s playlist (or, perhaps, purchased by an Abletonero, a Seratonero, etc.).

As something of a sidenote, I came across another interesting, rather active socialnet last week, elhood, which seems to fall somewhere in between imeem and myspace. The site is appealing in its Spanish-language (or bilingual) orientation, and clearly has a good number of dedicated users (attested to by the number of bigname acts — from calle 13 to pitbull — courting their favor), but it also fosters something of a weird (and for me, specious / pernicious) separation between “gente” and “artists,” “fans” and “friends.” One of the things I find so appealing about the OurSpaces of the world is their leveling potential, their one-degree of separation (or at least the appearance, or possibility, of it — I realize the cult of celebrity reproduces itself quite well there, too; & I wouldn’t want to preclude the possibility of maintaining multiple selves or avatars just to get rid of agents and proxies).

Which makes me wonder: are there similar but better sites out there that I just haven’t found yet? Is MiGente really hopping, or has it just become Friendster en Espa├â┬▒ol? Is there something in the works — maybe even open source — which will put all of these spaces out of biz? Or are we all resigned to do our thing at MySpace, as well as at more specialized spots, given the incredible critical mass that has gathered there?

Apparently (and perhaps promisingly — but I’m skeptical), MurdochSpace announced a licensing scheme for its millions of music-makers last fall, though I haven’t seen anything recent about it. (has this happened yet?) If the cut turns out to be around 60% after all, that’s (ironically) better than a lot of the other (digital) distro deals out there, making it fairly appealing (&easy). And surely YouTube, etc., could follow suit (or are already planning to). But how about giving artists 100% (or much closer)? The tech is there at this point, if not so well packaged, to cut out the middlemen entirely — p2p culture n ting (filters welcome).

So, what’s the ideal tech fix then?

This would seem a simple yet crucial question to answer, or attempt answering. But it raises others, e.g.,

Is it a fix for us all?
In all our different if OverlappingSpaces?
Is full digital “crossover” and p2p culture possible?
Is it preferable?

(for the record, i think so)

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January 21st, 2007

imeem, i’m sayin

Talk about too much music. Was readying a post on all the pods I cast (or subscribe to, that is), but then I get pointed to a Soca 2k7 playlist on some mysite called imeem —

The soca 2k7 are verrrrrry r and b. I thought it would be
interesting for your work. The soca sound is now soooo
mellowed out. I’m really surprised. Every song on this list
departs from the traditional soca 1000mph beat. [thx, lis!]

— and before I knew it I’d spent a couple hours listening to lovingly compiled playlists of reggae, reggaeton (incl a whole playlist devoted to up-and-veniendo reggaetonero Arcangel), bachata, and various forms of local/regional/DIY hip-hop (like, whoa), incl Chicago’s own lo-fi, fruityloopy, ghettotechy song’n’dance — juke.

Considering the genre’s relative low-pro — esp in comparison to similar scenes/sounds (e.g., Bmore clubb, D-troit g-tech, Yay Area hyphy, ATL crunk) — I was struck by the number of juke playlists I found while browsing imeem. It seems that one of imeem’s more interesting, distinguishing features is that a significant (majority?) segment of the community sharing and commenting on various content there seems largely to be, to put it frankly and slightly awkly, black and brown and, in the words of the policy wonks, underprivileged — people more typically relegated (in the imagination and reality) to the other side of the digital divide. (For overlapping and contrasting perspectives, see, e.g., reports from the Nat’l Poverty Center, the NYT, the Nat’l Telecom&Info Admin as well as, why not, pomo sociology.)

But, getting back to juke, I’m sayin: who can resist the joie de bump of them uptempo bpms, poppin’/distortid bass kicks, dirty dance mantras, (Down)South/side accents, and bloop-bleep synths’n’samples — to wit bit, check BabyGurl’s playlist devoted to the productions of DJ Clent, which she glosses as “chi-town juke music for dem goonz that footwurk and juke.” I recommend esp tracks #1, 2, 11, 12, — which demonstrate some serious creativity, stylistic mastery and experimentation, and flair — and without a doubt #5-7 (for some rilly nice nostalgic bangers, riffing on vintage video games and ice-cream-truck music). I also recommend headphones; cpu-speakers will not do justice to the bass (nor does the mp3pression, but what are ya gonna do) —

And if you like Clent’s stuff, u’ll prolly dig other juke tracks too. Check, for example (below), how “tha” Pope’s “Work Dat” (#8) radically recontextualizes yet again Solomon Linda’s 1939 zulu bomber, or how Dj apollo gets DUM on some Sanford and Son (#17) — never mind the mindnumbed allure of (feminism forgive me) “Kswiss Juke” (#10), long as you listen like it’s on some ol’ Steve Reich loopsurdity // ? —

— or the audible connections to classic traxxic house and maybe stepping too (“Chicago Juke Slide,” #14 below, #2 above), not to mention Miami-Detroit bass-tech party chants ad infinitum (#16 below) —

imeem, i’m sayin: who needs the RIAA to help such artists make a living by doing what they do? (No one better tell Lil Weezy, tho, that he’s got mad songs up over there.) F’real: Tell me where I can hear/cop this stuff around town, and I’ll gladly support the efforts. Zen-carts, right? (&plz[helpme]tell the urban-bass-dance spinnsters how they might purchase a track or two for Serato and such, and I’m betting — or hoping/suggesting — that they’ll be happy to slide some change that-a-way.) Chicago’s enduring segregation patterns and drastic contrasts in stds-of-living don’t necessarily make it as easy for juke artists to reach a broader (richer) audience and thus keep “eatin” as well as they say they are (I believe ya) —

— but the opportunities are there (esp as digitally mediated), and increasingly, and — if we work to make it happen — conditions can continue to change in the right direction, to enable activity and advancement not against the odds (hate the game) but against the strictures and structures of institutionalized racism. These meem (as well as other __spaces) seem to point in that direction as much as they already bear witness to a vibrant, creative, interactive, self-directed cultural movement with a momentum all its own. knameem? knomesprayin?


photo by swanksalot

cross posted to the riddimmethod

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Wayne&Wax

I'm a techno-musicologist, internet annotator, imagined community organizer.

I left my <3 in the digital global, but I reside in Cambridge, MA, where I'm from.

I represent like that.

wayne at wayneandwax dot com

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