An email arrived in my inbox Friday night (isn’t this always how these things happen?) with an invitation to DJ Absurd’s Flying Colors album release party. I won’t bore you with the chain of events that led me and Agent Number Nine to the Court Tavern, in New Brunswick, NJ. She and I have been partying all weekend, suffering from allergies, slurping on Quick Check Slushies and getting lost on a highway near you. No worries though, as usual, my right hand Chica came through and we pulled into New Brunswick with plenty of time to spare. She’s so fabulous!

Besides, since when do concerts, black folks or events EVER start on time?

I tip..tip..tipped my Harojuko Lover shoes up a steep inclined street and then back down a few other steep inclined streets before we could find the place. Piece of cake! These shoes only look high as hell because they are…

Approaching I spot Black, Latino, White, Asian and even a Sheikh brethren. There are a few smokers hanging out on the corner but the block is tucked away on a quiet side street. Everything was normal enough and so we stepped inside; my mouth dropped and my eyes got big (more than usual) because I recognized this place. And I know for a fact the pool table the patrons were using in the back of the bar is/was also used to double as a stripper stage circa 1990′s. I’ll leave the rest of that story for my memoir book but trust me when I say this place is an old haunt of mine.

But tonight I came to hear some good music and to meet a few new people. Let’s say I came all the way to the Court to hear some bars.

So Who Got Next….

Dammit, man! There was a lot of people hitting the stage last night! I wasn’t initially interested in hearing anyone spit because simply put, I’m a writer too and most of what you rappers say just doesn’t move me. I’m not saying that I’m as good as you *cough* but I am saying that you have to do more than link a few rhyming words together, grab your dick and tell me to “throw my hands in the air” because I won’t.

I’ll laugh at you.

Shit, I might throw my drink at you.

Marketing fluff, circular promotional budgets, secret hand shakes (or hand jobs) and casting couch anal sex are how many of these current Hip Hop artists end up in front of an audience in sold out stadiums. Shit ain’t got nothing to do with talent so when I see you on stage and I got the screw face on just know it’s because of this–>I demand from anyone standing on a stage in front of me wanting my attention the same thing that I ask of everyone else.

Please don’t beat me in the head with bullshit and you better say something useful.

I’ll always have love for the producers and the DJ’s and I used to love the MCs, but lyricism has become a second thought in Hip Hop. Or at least I thought that until I got to hear Pace Won hit the stage. There were as many delivery styles as there were people last night and they weren’t all necessarily to my liking. Luckily with this dude that wasn’t the case; I was mean mugging and hand-banging my big hair to his flow almost like the White boy with the long hair from Backpack Superheros (who I found to be extra dope!). Long haired head banging White boy from BS nearly stomped on my fresh pedicure twice. I said ALMOST…

Image Via Link

Speaking of the Backpack Superheros they were actually the first group that I stopped and paid attention to. At first I was posted in the back (as I do; you know this) and the group of white boys mixed in with ‘typical’ looking home boys on stage was curious enough but not enough to make me really care. Me and Agent Number Nine traded smirky looks with each other but before we could finish clowning these dudes I was distracted by their shit. I tried to get AN9′s attention but before I could she left me where I was standing so that she could move closer to the stage.

Shout out to the drunk white girls that thought they were gonna toss their stringy hair and move me and my home girl to the side while they made their way to the dead front of the stage. You might mistake AN9 for a common docile white girl and think she’s some type of punk but needless to say, she and I both kept our front row view of the stage for the entire show.

Actually we only became interested in having a front row view after the Backpack Superheros piled on the stage for their set. I’m not sure whose who among them and definitely I’m definitely gonna collect more details about the guys for later but each one of these dudes is nice as hell on a mic.

AN9 commented that it was strange to see this Jewish “looking” white boy, with the heavy metal head-banger hair grab a mic and spit rhymes like “Woah”. I thought about it for a moment and then realized that it’s not so strange after all, since Blacks and White (and Latinos) have been on this mish-mash of communication and life that’s become known as Hip Hop since the very early days (Beastie Boys/Everlast for you youngings out there).

I was loving these guys and got a good look at them before and after their performance. They exited the stage and remained right in the front; although they were each talented MCs in their own right you could look at their faces and tell that not only are they a part of the music scene, they are also very much fans of the art form and other artists.

Rappers aren’t fans of other rappers; though MC’s respect other MC’s. The art of Hip Hop is a school of thought and motha fuckers lose that part of the game when they go platinum and never the two shall meet…there are few exceptions.

Moving right along and not necessarily in this order there was a dude that sounded like Ghostface Killah *pause* which is usually confusing to me but this dude rode his beat without barely breaking for a breath. That’s not an easy thing to do if that compliment I just gave him went over your head.

SHOUT OUT TO HIGHLAND PARK!!! I looked around the room……AIGHT…..rep your hood, son. I ain’t mad at that. It’s all love in the basements with the bathrooms with no doors and promo stickers everywhere.

I’m watching and waiting and there’s a little lay over as people talk and organize shit but eventually someone who I think is named Rich Mahagony took the stage. My bad if I’m bugging but there was a big Latino dude up there, how’s that?

He wasn’t bad and reminded me of (Fat) Fat Joe; similar flow, look and delivery. I don’t know but since Fat Joe and Terror Squad and the establishment of the Puerto-Rican MC model I hate how typical it is to see a Latino MC who some how comes off as  following the “Fat Joe” modus operandim (white or sky blue clothes, heavy set in weight, tipped cap, white towel waving in the air). He wasn’t bad but I bet you he could be so much better.

There was a female rhyming too and while I liked her lyrics (when I could clearly hear them) the issue was that I wasn’t too beat for the yelling and screaming. I feel conflicted because I don’t think she should have to whisper and rhyme ‘like a lady’.

Fuck that.

I want her to be ass aggressive, loud and foul mouthed and as provocative as she chooses. But what turned me off was either the person doing the sound board was wack as hell, or she had a cheap mic to work with or her delivery needs work. Either way, can someone please tell me who this chick is so I can learn more about her?

AGN9 commented that her voice sounds like MC Lyte..there’s so much potential for strong verses and an MC Lyte-ish voice (MC Lyte is still one of the most recognized  voices in the industry).

The stage held plenty of talent last night and the crowd was pleased; we played along with dude who was asking questions of the crowd and handing out money to the person that knew the answers. I knew a few but the whole association with that stage and dollar bills reminded me of what I mentioned in the fourth paragraph so I didn’t participate in the game. I could have answered the GangStarr Guru questions, but I called him Keith back then. #RIPGuru

There was a slight commotion going on behind the stage; I saw DJ’s being switched out and was glad to be close enough to hear the off mic chatter. #noseybitch

I wasn’t able to so much focus on DJ Absurd because I was listening closely to the artists but I have checked out his music. Good Stuff. We’ll revisit the good gentleman at another time. I must learn more about him though I thoroughly enjoyed meeting several of his team members both inside and outside of the bar (All Mental—you’re supposed to be getting in touch with me!).

Though I’m a little sketchy of the details and names of all the acts I saw last night there is one person who I could not mistake; nor could I miss him or his big (ass mouth) voice….MC Craig G shut the party down after kindly offering a few moments of his stage time to another talented dude who rocked his verses and handed back the mic to the pioneer in a respectable manner. #appreciated

Gotta love that the Hip Hop legend was willing to allow the next man to shine after having waited longer than he expected to take the stage for his own set. Rapid fire lyricism is his specialty so the audience got old versus, new versus, and the infamous ‘Crowd Freestyle’ where Craig jumps into the audience and freestyles off of anything in his eye sight. He’ll rhyme as long as you can supply him with more shit; the people run out of articles before he will ever run out of words. Don’t believe me…peep this and find out why Eminem got the Juice Crew Legend to co-write the raps used in the movie 8 Mile. #youmustlearn When was the last time you rocked a mic in Nairobi?

That’s love of the music and respect for the people that love the music. I’m loving Mr. Green, who wore his hat so low over his eyes that you wondered if he could see and played the back of the stage wall when he was bought out. Though not the least bit unwilling to be there, he did a freestyle that went half way through before he fell off. No ego tripping needed because Mr. Green’s music speaks for itself; try it. You’ll like it. I especially like him with Pace Won who is so easy on the eyes, folks.

Good stuff. Good stuff indeed.

© 2011, Tracy Renee Jones. All rights reserved.