In October of last year, DJ and producer Marlon Williams, better known as Marley Marl, was here in Tokyo spinning at Speakeasy, a locally known mobile dance party that’s featured numerous pioneering DJ’s. Partygoers had him signing their vinyl copies of his classic singles like “Biz Is Goin’ Off” (1987). He was kicking it with loving fans, taking flicks, and the party’s promoter, Brooklyn Terry, brought him a sparkling cake to which the crowd sung him happy birthday. Marl was …
Tag: new york city
This big bearded gregarious laughing mass of a man could give a flying 747 fuck about what you think of him. If he controlled the weather it’d be King Kong conducting an orchestra. By some accounts he shouldn’t be here, here as in alive. His art could be what a potent drug induced rampage looks like, or a ballerina freezing in first position on a feather sailing through the wind. For those that know him (including this article’s author), artist John Felix Arnold …
I just changed out of a tuxedo from working a banquet at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. Mayor Gavin Newsom was having a fundraiser. Ra’s ship was sinking into the pacific. On the hostel’s rooftop, the San Francisco sky looked like bleeding watercolors. Up came Black. “Damn, you summoned the blunt, my nigga,” he said, holding a long cigar full of the Bay’s medicinal heritage. We passed the blunt back and forth then he told me his story. …
Rapper and producer M.Sayyid is ¼ of the avant guard rap crew Anti-Pop Consortium. Formed in 1997, APC also consist of rappers and producers High Priest, Beans, and producer Earl Blaize. They were at the forefront of experimental hip-hop, pushing the music’s boundaries across new textures and off-kilter compositions. All four members were individual artists with distinct aesthetics and their collaborative output made it evident. Sounding the way paint looks when it unfolds underwater, APC’s abstract rhymes and synthesized production …
“Let me tell you something child, you are the fifth secretary I’ve had in two weeks. The last boy I had came in here and tried to practice on me. He didn’t know to work that machine.” Permanently crouched over, Mrs. Kirby pointed to the computer like it’s some kind of frozen alien, liable to start moving at any time. “Do you know how to work that machine cause I don’t mess with that thing there. I don’t know nothing …
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