Archive for the ‘hip-hop’ Category

The Funk Generation

Tuesday, August 25th, 2009

logo_apafunk_letra_amarela11

Today just might have been a historic day.  At 10 am hora de Brásilia, the State Legislature of Rio de Janeiro convened a public plenary session on funk.  It was sponsored by the Human Rights and Citizenship Commission, whose president explained:

A proposta é pôr em questão oportunidades de se promover o funk como um instrumento pedagógico a ser utilizado nas escolas ou de se criarem, por exemplo, oficinas profissionalizantes para formação de DJs. Esse é o caminho para o estado reconhecer que o funk existe desvinculado do crime.

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The proposal is to put in question opportunities to promote funk as a teaching tool to be used in schools or to create, for example, professional channels for training DJs.  This is the route by which the state can recognize that funk exists outside of crime.

This won’t just be a political echo chamber, however.  Expect testimony from DJs, MCs, and critics like Hermano Vianna (who blogs em português aqui).  In particular, a relatively new organization is leading the charge from the DJ/MC front: the Associação dos Profissionais e Amigos do Funk (Association of Funk Professionals and Friends), or APAFunk for short.  Their presidente is MC Leonardo, who I most recently mentioned for his contribution to the Tropa de Elite soundtrack, which has very much reinvigorated his career.  But as a recognizable figure dating back to the early 90s, he also has the long-term perspective that will serve him well representing funk to the public.

Their main goal is to repeal Law 5265, which was passed in June 2008.  It declares in Article 1:

A realização de eventos de música eletrônica, conhecidos como festas raves e de bailes do tipo funk, obedecerá ao disposto nesta Lei. (Electronic music events, known as rave parties or baile of the funk type, must obey the regulations of this law in order to take place.)

It goes on to assert police authority to shut down the baile, require that organizers record the event for police to review up to 6 months later, and specify such details as how many bathrooms are required.  The 30 day notification to the State Secretary of Security is particularly onerous, given how many events and line-ups are put together at the last minute.

Putting bailes under state authority, and in such a draconian, bleakly bureaucratic fashion, is tantamount to prohibition.  Only the most commercial bailes can realistically comply with such a law (or afford to bribe the right people), and while they are an important part of the baile funk landscape, they’re far from the most interesting.  On the flip side, only the most proibidão baile da comunidade is secure enough to completely flout the law.  But smaller scale promoters who want to operate in the asfalto, or in the vast stretches of the Zona Norte, Zona Oeste, and suburbs where the distinction between favela and asfalto is not so sharp, are caught in a lurch.

Thus is APAFunk leading the charge and FunkNeurotico urging the masses to show their support.  This is likely many funkeiros first political exposure, as the announcement makes clear: “ATENÇÃO: Traje para o Evento Camisa, calça comprida, sapato ou tênis – Não é permitido sob qualquer hipótese camisetas, bermudas e chinelos / ATTENTION: Bring to the event a shirt, long pants, and shoes or sneakers – You will not be permitted inside with t-shirts/tank tops, shorts and sandals.”

I was musing on the idea of politicized funkeiros — a far cry from the sight of funkeiros in the early 90s gang fighting on Ipanema — when a very provocative photo landed in my inbox.  Sany Pitbull has been taking it to the highest political levels.

nay-e-lula-031

Yes that is Brazilian president Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva playing an MPC.  He was visiting a community center in Cantagalo and asked for Sany to show him how to use the MPC.  Sany played the weekly baile in Cantagalo for a decade but recently quit over concerns that the new boss and his penchant for bringing guns into the baile could hurt his reputation.  I am glad to see he’s back on the hill in the daytime — indeed the Red Bull Funk-Se, where he did daily workshops, might indicate a new M.O. as professor de DJ.

He joked at the end of his e-mail, “what’s next, Obama asking me for a lesson too?”  Plenty of ink has been spelled on Obama as president of/by/for the hip-hop generation.  Could Brazil be on its way to a funk generation that will achieve similar political involvement?  Unlike hip-hop — or perhaps much like plenty of commercial hip-hop — funk is not known for its political awareness.  Outside of the scandal-marred political career of Veronica Costa, a city councilwoman accused of using her office to promote bailes run by her husband, mega-promoter Romulo Costa of Furação 2000, there hasn’t been much of a political face for funk.  But with what I hope was a decent turnout today at the Tiradentes Palace for the hearing, with MC Leonardo at the helm of APAFunk, and with Sany Pitbull making beats with Lula (I’ve never seen Obama touch a turntable for that matter), maybe funk really is getting organized for its own good.  A vote on repealing the baile regulation could come as soon as September 1.

Rhymes on the Bus

Monday, February 16th, 2009

A smattering of BusTube hip-hop from the last couple months.

The good (catchy bike rack rap on River City Transit [Louisville], h/t BCP) –

The bad (SEPTA obsession, by his own admission Buswizard isn’t a very good rapper, h/t 51:51) –

The ugly (young black Atlantans snubbing MARTA & the ladies) –

Buses are an essential supplement to their more glamorous cousins — subways, light rails, and trains of all kinds — but suffer from perennial image problems.  As Margaret Thatcher heinously (and apocryphally) said, “A man who, beyond the age of 26, finds himself on a bus can count himself as a failure.”  Not that efforts haven’t been made in the U.S. to spruce them up.  I was most amazed at the prevalence of bus travel in San Francisco, where the Muni does some heavy-duty people moving given the lack of a really extensive city subway system (regional BART notwithstanding).  In addition to accurate LED displays of when the next bus is coming at almost every stop, the tech-savvy SF crowd can go to nextmuni.com and track their route in real time.  My cousins commute via bus every day with a stop outside the door of their apartment building.  They keep tabs on their bus in the morning and walk outside just as it’s arriving.  Bus without the fuss — a miracle.

The River City / Louisville PSA is encouraging, with even mid-sized cities getting in on the bike rack craze, especially in a place with a temperate climate where you can ride a bike most of the year.  The SEPTA rap is some weird geekery, I admit, for a very extensive bus system that, coupled with relatively minimal subway service in a dense metro area, is a pretty essential part of the system.  Sure people drive their cars in Philly, but it’s nothing like Atlanta, where I’m not surprised that the image of aspiration is tell a girl to fuck off by relegating her to the bus.  Let’s hope the BeltLine arrives to change perceptions sooner rather than later for all the fly ladies in Hotlanta.

Missing In Action

Sunday, February 8th, 2009

While the divide between “mainstream” and “underground” orbits is far more permeable than the terms of would suggest in a world of viral marketing and major-label artists cutting mixtapes to bolster their street cred, I can safely say that the Grammy  are something like Jupiter – large, distant, and nebulous — so I usually don’t pay them much attention.

But tonight, a certain Sri Lankan by way of London was up for record of the year with “Paper Planes.”  She lost to Coldplay — surprise? — but did perform the PP-sampled “Swagga Like Us” with the “rap pack” in all her pregnant glory and on her due date.  I’m sure her maternity outfit will have the fashion bloggers up in arms (they already didn’t like her red carpet dress) and I doubt she had her ob/gyn’s permission, but I’ll unabashedly take of my hat to her hanging with the boys.  And, for that matter, giving the hyper-beauty contest of an awards show a big “fuck you.”

Unfortunately, there is a more delicate subtext that I want to get to.  The “Paper Planes” success story is a straightforward case of the song — and then portions of it — becoming increasingly divorced from its source in our sample-happy (free) culture.  It was the moderately successful lead (and Diplo/Switch-produced) single on a moderately successful sophomore album.  But it took off when used in the trailer for a stoner flick that generally had nothing to do with Maya’s purported set of concerns.  It got another cinematic boost with Slumdog Millionaire, which is much more in line with the third-world politics of M.I.A., causing the song to quickly outclipse the album.  As just one example, The NY Daily News explicitly calls the song “from the movie ‘Slumdog Millionaire’” rather than from her album Kala. Meanwhile, the line “no one on the corner has swagga like us” got sampled by Jay-Z and T.I., who both used it as the hook for singles from their respective 2008 albums.  Both were nominated for “Best Rap Album,” which Lil’ Wayne just won — but when they cut to T.I. after mentioning “Paper Trail,” they actually played just the M.I.A. sample, not any lyrics that T.I. was singing.  If I had to guess, it’s the Hollywood hit and big-time rapper aspect that earned her the nomination, not a deep love of dancehall-bhangra-funk-dub-sampled mash-up fusion at the Recording Academy. That said, “O Saya,” a more distinctly Indian track, was nominated for an Oscar, so she’ll have a post-partum awards show to attend as well.

Having seen the film, I have to admit it’s a fitting soundtrack to the montage of plucky Jamal and Salim riding the rails to make a quick buck – either honestly or otherwise.  “Sometimes I feel like sitting on trains / Every stop I get to, I’m clocking that game / Everyone’s a winner now we’re making the fame / Bonafide hustler I’m making my name” resonates with that scene more than the tenuous “get high like planes” to the cannabis-themed Pineapple Express.  Instead, SD operates more at the level of “catch me at the border I’ve got visas in my name” in its vision of Mumbai crime world intrigue.

However, the use of “Paper Planes” is also was triggered my notion that perhaps SD is not by an Indian director – I hadn’t done my homework before heading to the theater.  Lo and behold, Danny Boyle is a Brit adapting an Indian novel.  I can only applaud his audaciousness at diving into such a deep story, where India – or at least Mumbai – is really at the heart, rather than serving as a backdrop for plot or character machinations like in Darjeeling Limited.  He’s also not shy about using spoken Hindi or Bollywood themes, although as a total novice in that arena I can’t speak to his choice of Indian music.

Nonetheless, it’s indicative of M.I.A.’s rise to not necessarily global stardom but certainly Western stardom – the kind where the Grammys convey prestige – that I heard “Paper Planes” and immediately questioned the Indian pedigree of SD.  Of course, she’s Sri Lankan and not Indian, which has a lot to do with that double take.  I’ve looked at a map long enough to know that the Palk Strait is there dividing the two.

But it brings me back to a question that has lingered for awhile whenever M.I.A.’s name pops to the surface.  What is her relationship to Sri Lanka?  Is it a prop – a backdrop – or a serious concern?  In that vein, I stumbled across a very accusatory remix-response to Paper Planes from Sri Lankan rapper DeLon.

*Violent, bloody footage — Vewer be warned*

I’m not about to wade into the  politics of a conflict that I don’t fully understand, but suffice to say in light of the very much ongoing upheaval, it’s still a pressing issue.  DeLon obviously has his own pro-government view and a definite agenda in cemeneting the Tamil Tigers = terrorist equation.  He clearly latches onto the U.S.’s own post-9/11 terror talk (see the quick shot of the Twin Towers), a questionable strategy, but he at least appears invested in his country and efforts toward peace.  His blog claims:

DeLon and Ceylon Records stand for peace. DeLon has spent many years funding non-profits in Sri Lanka, building homes for tsunami victims, helping those who are maimed from war, and speaking out against child soldiers. He is not someone who is just rapping. He actually DOES something about it through is tangible actions. This movement is to raise awareness about the situation in Sri Lanka, educate the youth about the destruction of war, and promote peace. It’s about making us think twice before we buy a CD that is built from the blood of innocent women, children, and civilians who die every day. It’s about thinking twice before we unknowingly support something that ultimately destroys humanity.

This is a lot bigger than DeLon or MIA. It’s bigger than even Sri Lanka. It’s about global peace, awareness, and real actions to help each other.

Sincerity?  A marketing push?  Another global hip-hop story with powerful interests behind it?

Whatever it is, DeLon certainly hammers home the lyrical irresponsibility of “some some some I some I murder / some I some I let go.”

I only wonder, had MIA won, what would she have said in an acceptance speech?  Anything about Sri Lanka?  Anything about the world she’s bringing her child into?

Are we in Baltimore? Are we in D.C.? Are we in Columbia?

Wednesday, July 30th, 2008


Columbia, Maryland is a planned community that appeared out of nowhere in otherwise rural Howard County in 1967. It may have improved on ’60s suburban sprawl, but forty years later it’s still plagued by suburbia’s basic problems: car-dependency, low density, lack of mixed-use development.

I was born and raised here and the temporary return has been rocky, mostly the sticker shock of having to pay for gas while still gainfully unemployed in post-graduation limbo, not to mention the sheer time consumption of driving at least half an hour to access urban culture. Indeed, Columbia is positioned about halfway between Baltimore and D.C., a perk for reaching the two major job markets, or a drag if you just wish you were in one or the other.

I’ve watched that tension blossom over the years, especially as friends have gone in one direction or the other to settle down: Is it a Baltimore or a D.C. suburb? The answer, of course, is both, but I’ve made a parlor game out of watching the barometer in either direction — how many signs for commuter buses to either city, which sports teams are getting repped in bar windows and on baseball caps, what newspaper does a particular house subscribe to, what local news channel do you watch. Despite a Baltimore orientation in high school, I’ve gradually recognized that I orbit the District — from the Washington Post at the breakfast table every day to the Nationals game I attended last night. Of course, a particularly snarky commentator could say that even Baltimore is a bedroom community of D.C.

Perhaps Columbia’s only saving grace — certainly culturally — is Merriweather Post Pavilion. The venue is second to none, an early Frank Gehry (c. 1967) outdoor amphitheater, most definitely an idyllic setting on any summer evening, albeit hot in the daytime under a sticky mid-Atlantic sun. The artists at Sunday’s Rock the Bells, a old-school hip-hop spectacular, put on a show at Merriweather from noon till night, but damn if they couldn’t figure out where they were. Between Nas, Mos Def, De La Soul, and Rakim on the main stage there were shout outs to Baltimore, D.C., Maryland, Virginia, even Pennsylvania. Music as relentlessly urban and rooted in a particular place as hip-hop just couldn’t find a comfortable nesting ground amid the leafy groves of Merriweather, even if it was a convenient meeting point for black/white, young/old, urban/suburban — although the lack of public transportation may have kept some citybound fans away (I did see one Zipcar, much to my delight).


Another way of staking out location, of course, was through the music itself. Baltimore has club and D.C. has go-go, both of which Afrika Bambaata spun in an animated DJ set on a rainy side stage. He namechecked both — said he couldn’t play a set this close to either city and not drop Bmore breaks or pots and pans music. But in the hype circles of 2008, it’s not exactly a fair battle. Go-go can’t stand on its own as DJ material the way club can, simply because it’s live music. Of course, a little go-go inflected hip-hop might be the perfect repartee. So while DJ Blaqstarr did his best to animate a thinned out side stage the way he did at the Paradox the other week (god-awful hype girl Oxy Cottontail, a Columbia native and ultimate hanger-on, should not have been sharing the stage with the likes of the Zulu Nation any more than I should have), I would he say he was upstaged by DC/MD’s own Wale, who performed early on the main stage.


His breakout single “Dig Dug” samples D.C. go-go band Northeast Groovers, chops & screws it just a little but mostly lets it play. “Not from Northeast but I guarantee I groove.”

Wale - Dig Dug

On his most recent effort, “Mixtape About Nothing,” he tackles the Bmore vs. D.C. controversy head-on, mostly in jest.

Wale - The Bmore Club Slam

Even K-Swift (R.I.P.) gets namedropped. But damn if her beloved 92Q isn’t showing PG County’s finest any love.

While the Columbia curse means I can’t claim any more cred to D.C. go-go than Baltimore club, even if I get the chance to spectate every once in awhile, if I’m in the D.C. area rather than a Baltimore suburb, it’s still gratifying to have an up-and-comer to root for (and rock out to). And his DJ, Alizay of WKYS (the D.C. answer to 92.Q), even did a Rock the Bells mixtape.

In the end, though, it was finally Q-Tip who got it right. As he hyped the crowd up for A Tribe Called Quest’s full appearance on stage, he yelled out, “Are we in Baltimore? Are we in D.C.? Are we in Columbia?”


The answer, of course, is all three, in different ways. And for a Columbia native, however conflicted it makes me feel, it was the rarest of treats to have music I normally drive at least a half an hour to hear in my hometown, a short walk away.


South South Bronx [ed. Northwest South]*

Tuesday, March 4th, 2008


Buried in a thesis avalanche and will come up for air sometime after the magic date of March 14. Made it home from Carnaval in one piece, sem passaporte (another story), and Beija-Flor took the win.

Closer to home, some curious real estate wheelings&dealings — over an affordable housing rec room. Mitchell-Lama, the unsung hero of hip-hop? The comments, if anything, are as interesting as the story. New York bias, Chicago inferiority complex, Bronx vs. Jamaica, it’s all the Republicans fault . . . a classic NYC soapbox.

Not something you see everyday on a prominent NYT page.

P.S. See where the 1520 Sedgwick “rec room” led — support artists in Rio and deepen your funk crates with some vinyl that can only be described as sinístro, mano: Funkeiros e Progresso EP

Massive CD with knowledge jewels galore dropping soon, more info when it arrives.

*Thanks to commenter Richard S. for correcting my geography.


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