CONTINUING WITH MUSIC WEEK

And i bet you didn't even know it was music week did you? Well it is. At least on this blog. lol. Music is my current inspiration and im going to let it be the driving force behind my writing, at least this week.

Every once in a while a song comes along that is so momentous that you can't imagine what the world would be like without it. MJ- Beat It. The Temptations - My Girl. Marvin Gaye - What's Going On. Nirvana - Smells like teen spirit. Queen - Bohemian Rhapsody. Stravinsky - Sacrificial Dance (from the Rite of Spring)

You follow my general idea.

Well another one of these momentous genius moments in music was the, dare i say - ethereal? - Reminisce (T.R.O.Y) - Off of Pete Rock and C.L. Smooth's 1992 release, The Mecca and the Soul Brother. Over the weekend a few friends and I were discussing this song and how pivotal it was at the time. (they are crate diggers and LIVE to have discussions on this kind of stuff) To hear it at a party is almost cliche - but guaranteed to make the crowd go nuts from the first sounds of that haunting saxophone...

But what's so awesome about the song, and speaks well to Pete Rock's genius as a producer - is the sample that was appropriated for it. It's by the Jazz musician Tom Scott, and the title is "Today." at approximately the 1:39 mark is where that horn comes in... who would think to sample that??? Dopeness!

The song also was sampled for Black Sheep's Similak Child (though i believe that was the jefferson airplane version)

Anyway, take a moment to check out the original and revisit a hip hop classic. Now i suppose you hope the little black boy grows...

(Next up: Top 10 Songs every casual fan/listener of the beatles should own/know. Be here for the reveal! lol)

Tom Scott - Today (1:39 is the sample)


Pete Rock and C.L. Smooth - Reminisce

THIS RIGHT HERE??

E. Badu has got me open again. I've been running the heck out of her new single for the past few days... and i haven't gotten tired of it yet. Something about Erykah's pathos speaks to me. And of course, the music itself is aural pleasure. Questlove on drums... james poyser(who i had the pleasure of meeting several times) on the keys, im just feeling the entire groove.

She has officially reached muse status. I had to rock a huge fro this past weekend in homage. lol. im corny that way. Of course i had to tone it down the hair this morning for "the man." But, i did go in naked. *raises fist* lol





Most of you have seen the video already (and something else... woosah! Talk about donks??? GO ERYKAH! lol ) but i had to post it anyway. Oh and if anyone wants to discuss the perils of groupthink i'd be down to dialog. lol :-) Also, what are you guys opinions of the song/video?

So over the weekend i had the pleasure of being surrounded by musicians... and i'm incredibly inspired. Lots of talent, im hoping it rubs off. Im just in a musical afterglow at the moment...

(oh and did i mention my brother was one of the producers on the new Donwill LP? Donwill of "Tanya Morgan" Fame. A dope rap group and even better, a GREAT group of down to earth guys. Donwill is mad chill. the LP is getting great reviews too - as well as my brother's production. woo hoo!)

I don't really have much else to say, but im just so into Erykah's new single that i had to blog about it. lol.

Oh... and the video may be a little NSFW - so to get your Badu fix, watch this instead. She's performing Otherside of the Game live. Chris "Daddy" Dave on drums (met him and he is just awesome) funky and soulful. I can never get enough of this song...




Erykah Badu - Window seat

THROWBACK THURSDAY

So tonight while relaxing with a cup of spicy chai, and wondering "am i really going to close my evening out with a treatise on the epic of gilgamesh?" I decided that as compelling of a topic that is, that was a little drab, even for me.

Instead, i figured the rainy evening was as good a time as any to try and organize my photos...again. It should be a simple undertaking, but the truth of the matter is that i have never been able to accomplish this task because i get so distracted. The problem is that in order to organize, i have to look through the photos, and looking through means reminiscing. Each picture sets me adrift on memory bliss, and before i know it, it's three hours later and i have gotten little further than where i started.

And here i am, blogging instead of organizing, which means the circle of futility remains unbroken.

C'est la vie.

Anyway, in my meanderings i came across this "gem":

This is a picture from my eighth grade graduation. Also, my first picture with a boy. (excluding little kid pictures. those don't count) A genuine polaroid - not a "polaroid effect." The picture is partially discolored - from age i guess - but that doesn't stop you from seeing what a chubby(er) faced kid i was. The boy in the picture is my classmate Damon. As you can see by our body language, we were THRILLED to take a picture with each other. lol. Gee whiz. You could put the great wall of china between us! We probably wanted to make sure that no one mistook us for like liking each other. (and i didn't. i was sooo head over heels for Rob Hutchins. I wanted a picture with him! lol) We wound up messing up would could have been a really nice picture. Stupid kids. LOL

Damon's father just so happened to go to high school with my father - and in the via appia of the parental mind, that meant that Damon and I should be friends as well. We were cool enough, but apparently that didn't make us want to be in the same frame with one another. If i recall correctly, i remember Damon's dad saying something like:

"Come on yall... move closer together!"

We did. Kinda.

And look at my body language! Shlumpy shoulders, an "i'd rather be bobbing for anvils" smile, my long orangutan arms hanging lifeless at my sides. LOL wtf? Maybe i was emo at leaving my classmates, most of whom i had known for eight years. Or maybe i just really really did not want to take that picture. I look like I was just sentenced to seven years of indentured servitude.

Both of our families went out to post graduation dinner together, and we got to act awkward around each other for a few more hours. I believe there are pictures of that too, but my parents probably have them.

In our 8th grade year book - i was voted most likely to succeed. That's not the most glamorous of categories, but it did speak of a faith in me my classmates had that im sure i didn't have in myself.

Well, the years (and years and years) have passed. Everyone's definition of success is different, and mine changes from day to day. So i won't say that i've achieved the honor, but i do like to think i've succeeded in looking less uncomfortable in pictures with the opposite sex.


Spandau Ballet - True

LOW END THEORY

This is my booty.

...And my big hair. But that's a different post.

ignore my face. it's been a long day

It doesn't stop traffic. (not that i've noticed anyway) It won't win me a video hoe vixen of the year award. (do they have those?) You can't sit a drink on it*. (because i won't let you. besides, that's what the table is for, or the bar, you impertinent muthafracker) It won't land me the cover of king, smooth or one of those other men's mags. It definitely won't gain me entrance into one of bill maher's secret sex parties**. (cuz you know he has a thing for the "sistas".)

In other words, i don't have a (badonka)donk.

Sidenote: I was in the car with my mom the other day and we were discussing booties and the black man (yes our discussions run the gamut lol) and i said something about a badonkadonk. As we sat waiting for the light to change she asked me to explain what i meant. Would you believe she had no idea what that was? I mean she inferred it from context eventually but she had never heard the expression before. I have failed as a daughter! LOL. Of course now that she knows it she keeps finding ways to insert it into conversation - even if the conversation is nowhere near the topic of badonkadonks. I think she just likes the feel of the word coming out of her mouth. Yes, i can't listen to sexy songs around my mother, but im totally comfortable discussing things like boobs and butts. I'm an enigma wrapped in a puzzle, sandwiched in a riddle.

But where was I? My (lack of) donk.

No, it doesn't require it's own area code, but it still holds up its end of the bargain. (get it? holds up? end? :-/) It's soft. It's firm. Ok... it does jiggle a bit, but not disgustingly so. I mean, at least i don't think. It facilitates my walking and dancing (salsa bebe!) It responds to stimulus well(pilates and yoga has given it extra lift.) It looks decent in the right pair of jeans. It looks even better out of them (oop!) And most important, it does its job as a cushion for my body weight, as my day job as a cubicle warrior is an unforgiving one.

So why am i on blogspot talking about my booty?

I chalk it up to whimsy, adrenaline, and merlot. (and the loss of a bet.)

Actually its quite humorous, -- i would say ironic, but im nervous to use that word given the fact that its usually used incorrectly. (Rashad help me out?) -- as i've always been a tad bit uncomfortable with my physical manifestation. ( yes, i could have said body, by why use one word when you can use two? lol) I had the misfortune of developing hips (but little else) when i was twelve. I remember shopping with my aunt for my 8th grade graduation dress - and as we went through the agonizing process of trying clothes on, she remarked "girl... you got some big hips!" I was crushed. At that age what did hips mean for me? I wanted a bosom. Not an outsized pelvis. Of course, she didn't mean it in a bad way, but it made my already gawky self even more gawky. (and thus began my hatred of trying things on.) All through high school i dressed in baggy clothes. Fortunately it wasn't that big of a deal - during the time i was in HS, it was cool for a girl to dress like Boss. I could hide behind outsized clothing and still be fashionable.

But when i had to wear something a bit more form fitting? Hated it. :-( When i was about 16 i attended a wedding with my parents, and some of my friends were there. My mom bought me this very nice dress, a kind of jersey knit. Well my male friends must have been taken aback at what was hiding underneath my normal uniform of plaid shirts and levis - because i got so many compliments from them. I hated it. My mom said it was because i looked really nice. Because im a weirdo, i freaked out at the attention,and resolved to never wear the dress again. And I didn't.

It was a strange dichotomy, because despite my uncomfortableness with my own body, i still compared it with others. Or maybe that isn't strange. At any rate I always came up short.

But im making the effort to break that habit. Barring plastic surgery - there is nothing i can do about my build. My backside will never be used as an ode to ernie barnes. And that's ok. What's important is that it's mine and that i embrace it solely for that fact. What was once a sore spot is now something im content with.


I'm learning to love my body.


So tell me, what's your favorite part? (of yours!)

* rule applies only to unknown men (not my man - i do have a sense of humor)

**(made up - i have no idea if bill maher has sex parties. lol)

D'angelo - Spanish Joint