BIG BEER CULTURE

He's a Lethal Weapon

2006-08-04T11:16:00.000-07:00

How have I found myself defending my apt criticisms of the hypocrite/bigot/narcicist Mel Gibson lately? Are people seriously this brainwashed by their own religion that they can find a way spin this hilarious saga in a way that still protects this man? It's absolutely mind-numbing.

Unfortunately this mega bazillionaire won't likely feel the brunt from Hollywood's big wigs for long, and even if he did you can expect the Christian Right to claim martyrdom.

I hardly care about Hollywood news, but this issue has reached beyond the normal "hot hollywood couple" spat to a topic worthy of discussion on a greater scale.

Fuck Mel Gibson!

THUNDERHAWK!

2005-08-21T13:57:00.000-07:00

Last monday my good buddy Maddoo and the ever disgruntled but awesome Kryss Cho went to see Metallagher and Thor at the Triple Rock. I think Maddoo and his gal were expecting a riff-laden date, a night out of metal licks and guitar tricks. Instead I showed up and performed the ritual of the third wheel, which made things a little awkward at first.

Metallagher is a Metallica cover band with a Gallagher impersonater as their front man. It's a funny gimmick, and the band can actually cover the songs of old Metallica relatively fluently. While riffing on "Ride the Lightning" a watermelon or two is smashed at the pinnacle of the guitar solo. A good bit, and I wish I would have thought of it. That said, it wasn't the show that I was craving until...

Thor.

Here's a bit of history from Thor's website that might help describe the show:

Starting out in Vancouver, THOR first made waves in the bodybuilding world, becoming Mr. Canada and Mr. USA, always using heavy music as an intensive training tool. He blended his powerful physique with powerful rock, and thus began this amazing cult legend's long reign in the hazy area between superstardom and the dark underground.

Along the way he has become a movie actor and producer, turning out collectible classics like Rock & Roll Nightmare, Zombie Nightmare, Graveyard, and others. Most recently, THOR is appearing in the upcoming USA Network movie Murder At The Presidio, and starring in the soon-to-be-released The Intercessor. And even more movie news will be released soon.
(Keep checking www.thorcentral.com for updates).

Theatrical rock shows are awesome, and I encourage anyone who has never witnessed this novelty to visit the next time Thor comes through Minneapolis. Watching a 50 something former bodybuilder perform feats of strength on stage while donning Viking garb, and bellowing heavy metal lyrics about Valkyries and Thunderhawks might just be the all-encompassing rock package. "Anger...Anger is my middle name!"

Ruminating on the "Summer of no Shame".

2005-08-21T13:44:00.000-07:00

This was to be the last, the end of an era so to speak. In mid May I decided that the Summer of 2005 was to be the last hurrah of debauchery, of living dangerously, of bloated livers and nagging headaches. Unfortunatly along the way financial burdens, cryptic anxieties, and an unkempt routine have made this Summer of 2005 a buzz kill of collosol proportions.

My company, that I founded 3 years ago with two of best friends has dissolved. It feels like I'm quitting on a dream, and moving on has been an excericise in poor choices and irritating trials. This crux that I've come upon in my life is both deflating and tiresome. I'm floating in the "between" stage, and it leaves very little time or money to dabble in the lost arts of carousing.

I'm embarrassed to admit that I've only brought up the sun once this summer.

Things I find Awesome 7/27/05

2005-07-27T13:40:00.000-07:00

The List of Lists! Things I find awesome for the week of 7/27/05.

1. "Best Boy" - 1979 documentary about amentally retarded adult man who learns to live on his own with the help of his cousin and filmaker.

2. Cymande "Renegades of Funk" - I already own some Cyamande on vinyl, but this cd complilation does a brilliant job of tapping into all the great cuts. This shit is in full rotation for me right now.

3. No Mas T-Shirts - "Darryl Strawberry: Say No to Drugs", "Bo Can't Rap", "Pablo"...if I had money to burn I would likely be styling a different No Mas t-shirt for every day of the week.

4. Surprise Birthday Parties - For the first time in life I was treated to a surprise birthday party in my honor. I was speechless when I realized that the stack of gifts were for me! Thanks Sweet River!

5. Writing Headlines - Writing these ditties for hours and hours is either a brilliant stream of flittery words and phrases or a task feared for days. I love the anticipation of unloading on an empty page.

6. "The Mayor of Sunset Strip" - Meet the man who broke some of the most important music of the last 4 decades, Ronald Biggenheimer.

7. Ghostface "The Pretty Toney Album" - I slept on this when it first came out, and I've regretted it ever since. 9th Wonder production behind a grittier than ever Ghostface.

8. "Dry" by Augusten Burroughs - A gay alcoholic copywriter finds solace in the "steps" to recovery. Hilarious, disgusting, scary, and sad.

9. Burlesque Designs - Representing for Minne! I've started a collection that could become addictive.

10. Duane Jones - The undrafted rookie that the Timberpuppies just signed to a 3 year contract. A big defensive minded super beast!

ATV's, The Chariots of the Damned.

2005-05-12T11:30:00.000-07:00

ATV's damaged a trail? You don't say...

ATV's damage trail and The "Environmental Governor" is involved in an accident. (he he, sweet justice).

2005-05-12T09:54:00.000-07:00

Oh My Lord! YESSSSSSSS!

An Officer and a Gentleman

2005-05-10T09:05:00.000-07:00

Another Banksy beauty.

Exactly what I'm talking about

2005-05-09T00:24:00.000-07:00

Ugh, Emo rap love-fest at it's most self-loathing. I bet they had a courtesy dry hump after this little ditty.

Article

That's where it is I guess, you're either Slug/Sage Francis or a gun wielding sociopath macho deuche bag.

Please get the fuck out of my town.

Hey Cecil, people don't "think" it's Emo, they know it's Emo homeboy. If you don't understand that good hip-hop exists that doesn't include the yearning to nurse from your Mommy's teet then you're missing the big picture.

When Rappers get Soft

2005-05-06T14:52:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine offered me a free ticket to the Atmosphere show last Sunday at First Avenue, a trip down memory lane I thought. What a joke. The Indy Rock band that has usurped the namesake of Minneapolis hip-hop over the last decade is nothing more and nothing less than a cruel joke.

I recall the day fondly, I was home for the holidays scrounging in every record store crate in town for some goodies to bring back to Bozeman, Montana. On my list of must haves were a series of Headshots mix-tapes performed by the members of the Rhymesayers collective. This is back in the day when the Root Cellar record store was an excellent place to find that one missing gem in your collection, when Cheapo's in St. Paul would frequently receive truckloads of records from the now grown up yuppies that had laid stake on the Mac-Groveland neighborhood, when Northern Lights in Downtown Minneapolis had just gone under, and Let It Be was the big dog, before there was a Fifth Element, and before there was a bonafied Minneapolis hip-hop scene. Soul Asylum had hit their pinnacle a few years earlier (good riddance), Prince was in hiding, Dillinger 4 were still playing crusty dive bars, and Minneapolis was in this weird post-grunge, Rave revival, Industrial phase. It was scary and I was glad that I lived in one of the most remote parts of the country. That said, I had heard a couple of the Headshots mix-tapes and immediately fell in love with Ant's production skills, the mic skills of Slug, Spawn, and Beyond (now Musab), and the vibe that was beginning to peak from under the surface in the Tundra.

That cold day in Minneapolis a friend that I was visiting brought me over to Electric Fetus to meet Sean Daley, a skinny pocked face guy a couple of years my Senior. He wasn't working, but a nice guy at the checkout desk said he would call him for me. It turned out that Sean A.K.A. Slug lived right down the street in the Stevens Square apartments, and he was nice enough to let me stop by to check out some of the new music he and his group Atmosphere were making. I knocked on the door and waited patiently. At the time I was the host KGLT's Beatdown radio program in Bozeman, Montana, and I had actually spoken to Slug a couple times prior trying to get him to send me some of the group's vinyl singles that he had just begun pressing (for the Overcast! album). Sean opened the door and invited me upstairs to his apartment. I commented on the number of cats I had seen in Minneapolis that day, and he replied that "Minneapolis is an apartment city, and nobody can have dogs", that made sense until he opened the door to his apartment and the sharp odor of kitty litter hit me in the face like a ton of bricks. I hate cats. Sean was a nice guy and as he searched his apartment for Scribble Jam video that he wanted to show me, I sat on the couch and smoked a cigarette. People came and went from the apartment while I sat there, rappers on the come-up, girlfriends, roommates etc. After about an hour of shooting the shit with El Sluggo he handed me a plastic bag filled with a few singles from the yet to be released Overcast! album, a Headshots mix-tape, and a list of hip-hop groups that he really enjoyed from his last trip to the West Coast. I shook his hand and said I would keep in contact as I walked myself out. This interaction would continue over the next couple of years, everytime I visited the Twin Cities. I held the utmost respect for the guy, and I still think he's in this biz for the right reasons, but something has gone terribly wrong in the last year or so.

Fast Forward to Sunday, May 1st. My friend Gini and I were upstairs at the all-ages Atmosphere show, imbibing and making fun of the teenage groupie hoochie that enveloped the main floor. The place smelled like Axe cologne and sweaty private parts, it was nauseating. After a great set by Grayskul, and an O.K. set by Doomtree's finest, P.O.S., Slug finally took the stage with his new band in tow. Over the next 45 minutes I felt betrayed, angry, and clouded by a subtle disbelief. What in the hell had become of Minnesota Hip-Hop! This wasn't rap music, this was a sad adult contemporary version of an older beta version of Atmosphere. An Emo epic, with wilting sob stories, and panned out "white funk" instrumentals. Where was Mr. Dibbs and his platter of bunker busting bomb beats? Where was the credibility? Where in God's name was the bass? Is this supposed to be dubbed hip-hop music anymore? I mean I'm not one to rely on genre titles, but this sounded more Cities 97 than Tha Break a Dawn.

I went home later that evening and collapsed onto my couch and listed to 3 entire Gang Starr albums from front to back before falling into a disturbed sleep.

Conversation on Crime Prevention

2005-04-16T14:53:00.000-07:00

I was recently engaged in an interesting conversation with a fellow block leader in a neighborhood within a close proximity of my own. She was telling me that she had had enough of dealing with some particularly disturbing crime in her part of North Minneapolis. She stated that she had gone to her last prayer vigil, and expended the last of her energy convincing others in her community to get involved. She was tired of it all and asked me how I put up with a similar situation. This is how I responded.

First of all a "prayer vigil" isn't a preventative measure. It's a nice gesture to visit the site of crime and lay flowers and light candles, but it certainly won't prevent another incident. I prefer to spend my time working within my neighborhood, with my neighbors.

What our block has done that has been successful is flooding the Police with calls on problem houses or corners. We've had two houses within a two block radius evict their problem tenants because of our efforts, and it has kept the problem houses shut down. Once a landlord has too many strikes against them, the city can have their property boarded up, or make them clean up the property with repairs etc. The same can be done with businesses.

I have personally told some hustlers that I don't appreciate their activity on my block and that I would be watching them, they moved on within a day or two (I don't suggest doing this alone, go with a group of people from your block).

Another thing is, I know EVERYONE that lives around me, even the gangsters. I helped a guy jump his car once, and he has since shown me respect while I walked by him on "his" corner. I used to drive a couple of kids to school whose Mother was a prostitute and their older brother was a gang member. The older Brother always showed me respect after that, and he's listened to me when I've told him to move his business from our neighborhood.

Work with the MAD DADS, those guys are great at reaching some of these troubled kids. The kids look up to these guys because many of them are former gang members themselves.

Have your block club gatherings out in the open, showing the trouble makers power in numbers is a great way to show that you aren't going to take any crap. Have block parties that feed all of the little kids, parents appreciate that, even if they're shady people.

Call in license plate numbers of people buying drugs and soliciting prostitution.

If possible get your neighborhood church involved. This is trickier than it sounds, because unfortunately many churches only consider their congregation their community. It's best to approach these people with something to offer. Invite them to the block meetings and block parties. The Church on our block gave us the cold shoulder for months, despite the fact that they take up all of our parking spaces on Sunday. After a few letters, I finally just walked over to the church and explained that we would like them to be more involved in our neighborhood. Since then they have been more than hospitable.

Finally don't be a victim? Why is it that the community has to be a victim to a small group of criminals, we're stronger than they are when we work together.

Emo Rappers: A Midwest Phenomena

2005-04-08T10:24:00.000-07:00

After finishing my second trimester critique for grad school I felt the need to immerse myself in some down and dirty live hip-hop over my break. First on the platter was Gift of Gab and Lateef the Truth Speaker of Blackalicious, Latryx, and Maroons fame. I flew solo to the show at the Triple Rock Social club and was treated to a solid dose of the Boom Bap that I had so earnestly been awaiting.

Opening for the Cali stalwarts was a local outfit on the Doomtree label, Sims and Cecil Otter. Doomtree is the crew that P.O.S. calls home, a real MC with thoughtful introspective content. Unfortunately the same cannot be said for his label mates. I'm getting so sick and tired of Midwest emo rappers, and these chumps take the cake for their overtly visceral musings on how depressed they are and how much they hate G.W. (yeah we got it after the first 4 songs that featured "Fuck George Bush"). I don't mean to pick on these guys, because I tend to respect anybody who can pick up the mic, but this was some of the most uninspired, whiny, and cliche crap that I've heard in sometime. These little wannabee Sage Francis' had all of the melodrama without any of the intelligence to back it up. Don't get me wrong Sage Francis can be a major buzz kill as well, but the man demands praise for his ability to pose political, emotional, and critical arguments within a song that still maintains booty movement. Sage is also a skilled MC and poet, which could not be said for this Minneapolis duo. Some of these artists need to leave the self-reflection in their diaries, or at least gain the knowledge to present these manifestos in a way that isn't so damn obvious. "Call me the Tin Man" ....puke!

Is it just me, or is the Midwest a breeding ground for Emo rappers, whether it be Atmosphere (Minneapolis), Mac Lethal (KC), or the Doomtree posse? At least Atmosphere, Mac, and P.O.S. can mix up the content enough so their raps don't sound like a self-help session (well most of the time).

After the depression session concluded, the crowd was graced with a breath of fresh air from the Bay Area. DJ Mike Relm, jumped onto the stage wearing a black seersucker suit and a string bean tie to rock some Simon and Garfunkel into Led Zeppelin's Immigrant Song into some 80's super mix, into some southern Cali gangsta shit. This guy has it figured out, mix some novelty party jams, with some solid beats, with some classic rock that everyone knows by heart, into some obscure funk break, into some 80's New Wave, all while chopping it up like the long lost cousin of Q-Bert. Mike Relm deserves some attention: http://www.mikerelm.com