Josh Healey on Thursday, Jan. 19th
As a member of the self-identified “slash profession” – writer/organizer/educator/whatever pays the rent that month – I have learned how to wear multiple hats. How to move between different worlds and code-switch my headgear to meet a particular place and community. Alright, I got this big event coming up tonight…should I wear the Kangol, the fitted, or the yarmulke? (Correct answer: all three.) Sometimes, though, it’s a struggle figuring out which slash to bring out in which situation. Take Occupy.
I got back in Oakland full-time last month, and immediately jumped into the beautiful chaos that is Occupy Oakland. I joined the big West Coast port shutdown on December 12, started attending the alternatively powerful and painful General Assemblies, and connected with the two committees I’ve begun organizing with, Occupy the Hood and Labor Solidarity. It’s been great, and I’ve gotten to stretch some of activist muscles that I hadn’t used in years. (Sometimes literally – holding one side of a 30″ banner with that wind whipping off the bay is harder than it looks.) But while I’ve been bringing my organizing and education experience to the table, sometimes I leave behind the thing I do that I’m doing right now on this laptop. Writing. Telling stories. Creating culture.
Last night, however, some of my cultural comrades and heroes reminded me what it means to be artist in the movement. Artists of the 99% organized a panel/workshop (oh artists, how we even have “slash events”) that dealt with strategies for artists participating in social justice movements. It was a power-packed room: Jeff Chang (Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop), Favianna Rodriguez (printmaker activist powerhouse), David Solnit (street theater artist/organizer), and Zeph Fishlyn (Beehive Design Collective). Plus 100 or so radical artists who love talking about radical art on a Saturday night. My kind of folks.
Jeff set it off with his thesis that “cultural change precedes political change.” Meaning, we need Jackie Robinson before we get Brown v. Board of Education, Ellen Degeneres before we get gay marriage (at least in seven states). I don’t fully agree with Jeff – I think culture and politics very much go both ways – but overall, yes: people connect deeper on a daily basis with beautiful flash mobs and Youtube videos than with congressional committees and talking points. The question is, how do we get that flash mob’s message to those congressional committees and make the changes we need? (And yes, I know the obvious answer is to do the flash mob IN the committee itself…but I just don’t think Bernie Sanders has the dance moves to pull it off.)
Or maybe the point of cultural organizing is direct our energies more towards the 99% itself, rather than our so-called representatives. That seemed to be Favianna‘s argument, as she explained her work with CultureStrike, a pro-migrant project in Arizona started last year in the racist aftermath of SB1070. CultureStrike organized a pop music boycott of Arizona that was inspired by similar actions targeting apartheid South Africa in the 1980s. At the same time, they actually brought grassroots writers and artists to Arizona — but rather than perform, their job was to see the border walls and mass deportations for themselves and then create and promote artistic work to challenge the anti-immigrant climate of fear spreading across the country.
Regarding the Occupy movement, Favianna asked, “What are the strategic stories that we need to tell? Whose stories in the 99% are we lifting up?” The corporate media likes to focus on college students and angry anarchists for a reason. We need to highlight the stories of urban youth activists, immigrant day laborers, Black and brown homeowners — AND the college students, the (former) white-collar workers, and even the occasional anarchist. This is what artists do: shift the conversation, broaden the debate, literally paint the pictures that show both our unity and our diversity.
In that spirit, I was thinking about ways that “slash artists” can do more than just participate but take a real lead in progressive movements, from Occupy to environmental justice to international solidarity. I seem to be into lists these days, so I’m going to focus in on three concrete roles I see for me and my fellow artists:
1. Artists as Questioners
All great art, like all great political movements, starts with a question. I don’t mean marching around in a circle chanting, “What do we want? When do we want it?,” especially when we all know that the answers are deeper than “Justice” and “Now.” Artists have the power to question and critique the many injustices that often go unnoticed or unmentioned in present-day America. Just check the massive reaction, both positive and negative, to the recent “Shit White Girls Say…to Black Girls” videos. Culture, and especially humor, opens people up to ask the tough questions they would otherwise avoid.
Movement artists have a double role to play when it comes to asking questions, though — turning the lens not just on wider society, but on our own personal actions and organizations. When it comes to spoken word, I know the best political poem is when the poet isn’t preaching at me but struggling within themself. If only we saw more humility and self-reflection at Occupy Oakland.
On an organizing level, elements like street theater or marching bands do more than just liven up the crowd — they question the division of protesters and folks just passing by, of message and medium, of serious politics and God forbid, having a good time. To paraphrase Emma Goldman: if I can’t dance to some remixed, radicalized pop songs with you, I don’t want to be a part of your revolution.
To read more, visit JoshHealey.org.
Read the rest
Excerpted from JoshHealey.org:
After missing out on the fun of the initial two months due to travel, I had my first full-on experiences with the Occupy movement last week. I attended general assemblies in Oakland, marched with debt-straddled students and foreclosed homeowners into banks in San Francisco’s financial district, and participated in that huge, beautiful strike at UC Berkeley. Everywhere I went there were tents – tents being set up, tents being torn down, tents even floating in the air at one point. Even more, though, there were people, thousands and thousands of them: proud of the bold, game-changing actions they had organized so far, angry at the violent police reaction they had received courtesy of the 1%, and debating (for hours and hours, in mass meetings and countless committees) what to do next.
This is my contribution to that conversation. I am a student of history, a writer and community organizer, and a deep believer in the power of listening. Last week, I listened to literally hundreds of people, both within and outside of the Occupy movement, who all had powerful, personal takes on the situation. There are many challenges that face the movement, but there are even greater opportunities. From the Arab Spring to the European indignados, revolution (or at least resistance) is in the air, and here in America, we have a rare political opening for mass social change unlike anything in a generation.
First, I want to acknowledge the power and the beauty that my Occupying friends have created so far. From its humble beginnings in Lower Manhattan barely two months ago, people have taken up the Occupy call in over 100 cities and towns across America and even beyond our borders. In a country where the media usually uses the term “class warfare” to criticize people who merely recognize that income inequality exists, the Occupy movement has successfully – and rightly – framed our ongoing economic and political crisis as the fault of Wall Street and the ruling 1%. Taking over public squares and confronting the private interests that control our lives, the protesters have captured the public’s imagination. Thousands swelling to its ranks, the movement has pulled off massive, before-unthinkable direct actions such as the Oakland general strike of November 2, where over 40,000 people shut down the Port of Oakland, directly impeding one of the key nodes of corporate capitalism.
At the same time as these successes, several crucial questions continue to pop up. Confusion – both amongst the media and some protesters ourselves – about demands, principles, and tactics has led many natural allies and regular folks who are sympathetic to the movement’s goals to refrain from joining in themselves. In response to those sentiments, and in the spirit of solidarity, here are some suggestions for my comrades to consider as we figure our our next steps.
Much of this is already happening, while some of it is deeply controversial. Either way, now is the time to be honest with ourselves and each other. Every idea might not be applicable to your city or campaign, but hey, one of the great things of this movement so far has been to take each other’s good ideas and build off them. Here is where I’m at right now, and it seems like a lot of activists and not-yet-activists are here too:
1. The Tents were Great, but It’s Time for Something New
Over the last two weeks, mayors across the country (apparently coordinated by the FBI) shut down many of the largest Occupy encampments, including in New York, Oakland, Portland, Salt Lake City, Atlanta, and more. Police arrested hundreds of peaceful activists, inevitably leaving clouds of pepper spray and millions of dollars in their wake. While I fully condemn the police raids, I also think they offer us an opportunity to move to the next stage: it’s time to Occupy more than just tents.
The tent encampments were the birthplace of the movement, both a powerful symbol of public outrage in front of the banks and city halls and a 24/7 organizing center where people could come to plug in, get information, and even grab a hot meal. Over time, however, the battle came to be about municipal camping policies, rather than the corporate dictatorship of our politics and economy. Some encampments, inclusive of all who walked through their open doors, came to include too many drugs and other harmful activities that hurt the effort to welcome more people into the ranks. It has become clear to many, though unfortunately not to all, that something new is needed.
At an OccupyOakland general assembly last week, many activists called for new Occupations around town: at foreclosed homes to stop people from being evicted, and at the banks themselves doing the evicting. That is, taking the occupations directly to the victims and perpetrators of the economic crimes we live through everyday. This is already starting to happen, as the Oakland movement marched yesterday to one of the five local elementary school slated to be closed by budget cuts — in a beautiful move, the march was led by the first graders and their parents. In Washington, DC the other day, OccupyDC activists took over a former homeless shelter owned and shut down by the city. University student activists across California are taking their their long-running campaign, against massive tuition hikes and the privatization of public education, directly to the banks with strong ties to the UC Regents.
In each city, these actions will and should look different. Many groups are still using the original occupation sites for general assemblies and ongoing organizing/service centers…and then going home at night to rest and fight another day. This approach is more sustainable in the long-term (who really wants to sleep outside come January?), and it attracts more supporters who are down for the cause but not the tents. Look to our European comrades who also used the tactic as an example: los indignados in Spain moved beyond physical tents and their movement has now exploded to every corner of the continent.
2. Acknowledge the Complexity of the 99%
You can’t go to an Occupy march these days without hearing the chant, “We are the 99%!” It’s one of the best things the movement has achieved so far, a sense of unity and recognition that whatever our respective race, income, and geography, we are all getting screwed by the super-rich and their political puppets. It has caught on because it’s true, and also because it invites everyone (well, 99% of everyone) to get in on the party. It’s a broad-based movement trying to change some very broad-based problems.
At the same, we need to recognize that, truth be told, we are not all the same. The 99% includes graduate students and high school dropouts, gentrifying hipsters and gentrified-out families, immigrants and indigenous folks, suburban Occupiers out in Walnut Creek, the good folks of Occupy the Hood, and yes, as we have seen in many of the encampments, some of the over one million homeless Americans. We come from very different places, with different traditions and expectations. These differences can cause tension and alienation amongst activists, let alone uninitiated folks. One huge step for the Occupy movement would be to start recognizing the true diversity of the American 99%, and figuring out ways to use that diversity as a strength rather than another way for the ruling class to divide and conquer.
Last month, the Oakland-based immigrant rights youth group 67 Sueños targeted Wells Fargo for their investments in private immigration detention prisons. A few weeks later, UC-Berkeley students protested outside Wells Fargo again (the exact same branch, in fact) against sky-rocketing student loans. Dare I smell a coalition? This movement is broad enough for different groups to find their specific points of entry, and when we come together in unity, that’s when the fun stuff really happens.
One last thing, but maybe the most important on this point: much has been said of the overrepresentation of white people in the Occupy movement. Hey, it’s true. Especially in a city like Oakland, it is weird, almost painful, to be at a general assembly with at least 80% white folks. But I also know that the general strike was much more diverse. Why? Its demands, framing, and tactics spoke to communities of color who have known about things like police brutality since long before there were tents downtown. The question is who we are talking to, and how.
Let’s keep it real: the original OccupyWallStreet call to action was put out by Adbusters, a small magazine by and for young, white, college-educated (or dropped-out) lefties. It was very quickly embraced by a much larger audience across the country, but still majority white. There are pros and cons to this. The con is that people of color, who generally have felt the effects of the recession much harder than white people, are hesitant to join in, due to a history of exclusion and even betrayal by majority-white labor and liberal movements. At the same time, though, I have heard from some black and Latino comrades, upon seeing all the white people in the streets, a sentiment of “It’s about time!” Similarly, I have always been frustrated by the apathy of many of my light-skinned brothers and sisters. So to everyone who is joining in, I say, it’s nice to see y’all. Just remember: we’re not the only players in this party, and if this is going to really jump off, we’ll need to check some of our privilege and practice real solidarity.
3. Beyond Violence vs. Non-Violence: Let’s Talk Responsibility vs. Irresponsibility
Nothing gets an activist debate going, or media headlines buzzing, like the role of “violence” in the movement. This has been especially true here in Oakland, where small groups of protesters have repeatedly smashed bank windows and other actions that have provoked confrontation with the cops. Let’s be clear: I don’t consider breaking a window to be violence (humans bleed, glass does not), but I do consider it stupid. Shutting down the Port of Oakland on November 2 cost big business, according to their own estimate, $8 million dollars in one day — cracking some glass at Whole Foods or Bank of America costs them pennies. More importantly, it enables the inevitable police crackdown and dissuades a sympathetic public from joining the movement. If we want the full 99% to join in, petty property damage ain’t the way to do it.
The proponents of such actions usually defend them under the catchphrase “diversity of tactics.” I am all for different tactics, but what this phrase’s backers really mean by it is anonymity of tactics and absolution of responsibility. A small group of people throw a couple bricks under the cover of night and black masks, then run away from the cops, leaving the whole movement to take the brunt of the police and media backlash. Whether these folks are hardcore anarchists or police provocateurs, I don’t know. Probably some of both. Either way, I’m done with the “violence versus nonviolence” debate. I’d rather discuss strategy versus stupidity, accountability versus irresponsibility. As I mentioned earlier, I’m all for direct actions that may not be technically legal, especially occupations of banks, schools, and homes. But we need actions that speak to people, that invite them to come on in, rather than scare them away.
For this to happen, folks are going to have to step up and demand the Occupy movement take some clear principles. So far, many people have resisted the idea that there are and should be leaders in the movement. Sorry if this breaks your non-hierarchical bubble but, formally or informally, there already are many people who have taken a lead in one form or another. The question is whether that leadership is as democratic, accountable, and collective as possible. Direct democracy is more than just repeating “Mic Check!” at a general assembly and then approving every resolution that comes forward. It’s making tough decisions, and sometimes confronting your comrades. It’s time for individuals and community organizations within the movement to step up and do just that. Not for the sake of division, but for long-term unity. We have way more to gain than to lose.
To read more, visit JoshHealey.org.
Read the rest
When my uncle called me this morning, I had to shush him.
“Hold one second,” I whispered. “I can’t talk too loud, I’m at the library.”
“You’re at the library?” he asked incredulously, his voice actually getting louder despite my request. “On the Saturday morning of a three-day weekend??”
Guilty as charged — and with a smile on my face. What can I say? I’m a nerd, and damn proud.
Today was one of my favorite days of the year: the day I stock up on my summer reading list. It’s a yearly ritual for me. A couple weeks after school gets out, and a few weeks before the craziness of Brave New Voices, I head to the library and indulge myself with new writers and old favorites. (Side note: this year’s trip was especially gratifying because the Oakland City Council just this week backed off from its terrible budget proposal that would have closed 14 of the city’s 18 libraries.)
Here are the books I picked up. We’ll see if they last through July:
Eduardo Galeano – Soccer in Sun and Shadow
The unofficial bible of my radical soccer club/community, the one and only Left Wing Futbol Club, this is the most poetic book every written about the beautiful game. Since it’s Galeano, it’s also very political and very Uruguayan. Que viva Peñarol!
Miguel Asturias – Men of Maize
I’m going to Guatemala in September, and while I’ve already read Rigoberta Menchu and a history of the CIA-led coup of 1954, I had never heard of Asturias, the first Central American author to win the Nobel Prize. This novel is a literary defense of indigenous Mayan traditions and considered to be Asturias’ masterpiece.
Haruki Murakami – After the Quake
I’ve been wanting to read Murakami for a while, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle specifically. This short-story collection was all they had by him at the library, though, and I already the first story on the BART ride back. Set in Japan after the disastrous 1995 earthquake in Kobe, it seemed like an insightful book as the country is still recovering from this year’s tsunami.
Philip Roth – The Prague Orgy
I have a love/hate relationship with Roth. The Human Stain: love. American Pastoral: hate. And that one’s supposed to be his classic. Roth’s themes are always similar: Jewish identity in America, race and assimilation, nostalgia and family contradictions. You see why I can’t let him go? This book’s about an American writer who goes to Soviet-era Czechoslovakia to save a dissident Yiddish author. I know, he really branched out with this one.
Sherman Alexie – Reservation Blues
Now here is an author I definitely do NOT have a love/hate relationship with. Sherman Alexie is one of my top 5 favorite writers of all time. He always writes about the same shit, too: Indians in Spokane, Indians in Seattle, basketball, salmon, race, and love. But he’s so honest, so damn funny, that it hits every time. Here he’s got Robert Johnson, the legendary bluesman, showing up at the Spokane reservation. I’m saving this one for last.
And there’s some books just out that aren’t at the library but I’m looking forward to copping: Michael Cirelli’s new poetry collection Everyone Loves The Situation, the late Manning Marable’s revealing, controversial Malcolm X: A Life of Reinvention, and of course my man Adam Mansbach’s runaway hit Go the F**k to Sleep.
Oh, and if the rumors turn out to be true, Michelle Bachman’s future memoir. Who knows? Maybe she can get the facts straight about her own past, since she’s usually wrong about America’s history.
But hey, who knows anything about the past anymore? This is the United States of fucking America. If you don’t like it, you can go back to Russia.
Or, better yet, your local library.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Josh Healey is a writer, educator, community organizer, and author of the poetry collection Hammertime. His artistic and political work has been featured in the New York Times, Washington Post, Al-Jazeera and NPR. Healey currently lives in Oakland, CA and works with Youth Speaks to empower young artists and activists across the Bay Area and the country.
Youth Speaks is the nation’s premiere nonprofit presenter of spoken word and a Turnstyle partner.
Read the rest
Josh Healey on Thursday, Jun. 23rd
Josh Merchant is a rising star in the world of spoken word, but he’s doing it by taking the art form back to its roots. While other poets rely on flashy performances or rapid-fire wordplay, Josh is a writer’s writer. A storyteller. A true poet who knows who to wield his pen as a weapon and spit his words like flames.
This poem is the one that recently crowned Josh Merchant as co-Grand Slam Champion of the 15th annual Youth Speaks Teen Poetry Slam. In the piece, Josh breaks down the myriad ways he is demonized — by his race, his age, his sexuality — that’s all in one day. But he refuses to let other define him, instead, “reclaiming the pieces that make [him] whole.”
Like the poem, Josh himself a work in progress. He might not wear a halo, but he has “no horns in their place.” Watch the poem, and come see Josh and the Bay Area slam team at the Brave New Voices International Youth Poetry Slam Festival, taking place in San Francisco from July 20-23, 2011.
Youth Speaks is the nation’s premiere nonprofit presenter of spoken word and a Turnstyle partner.
Read the rest
Josh Healey on Thursday, Jun. 23rd
George Watsky is best known for his hit YouTube video “Pale Kids Raps Fast,” but he got his start as a teenage spoken word artist in the annual Youth Speaks Teen Poetry Slam. Now an award-winning emcee and writer in his mid-20′s, Watsky came back to Youth Speaks last month to grace the Grand Slam Finals stage with his well, unique, presence.
In this poem, he riffs on the importance of conquering your fears, whether the daily insecurities of being 15 or the moment of truth on a punk rock stage. If you believe strongly in something, it’s natural to have a fear of failure. After all, as Watksy says, ‘Scared’ is just ‘cared’ with a lisp. The question is what do you do with that fear.
As for Watsky: does he does he go for it and rock the first-ever stage dive in the history of the San Francisco Davies Symphony Hall? Watch the full video and find out for yourself…
Read the rest
Josh Healey on Thursday, Jun. 23rd
Want to know the future of performance arts? Look no future than Noah St. John.
Only 15 years old, Noah is an actor, dancer, and spoken word poet who was recently crowned co-Grand Slam Champion of the 15th annual Youth Speaks Teen Poetry Slam.
In this piece that won him the slam, Noah breaks down what it means for him to practice capoeira, the Afro-Brazilian martial arts form, and its connection to spoken word poetry. Armed with incredible dance moves and a critical race lens beyond his years, he explores what it means to be a white American artist participating in cultural art forms created by Third World peoples. No matter its form, art can be, as Noah says, “sometimes beautiful, and often deadly — because when done correctly, it is truth.”
You can see Noah and the Bay Area slam team live at the Brave New Voices International Youth Poetry Slam Festival, taking place in San Francisco from July 20-23, 2011.
Until then, watch Noah and join him in the cultural struggle — get in the roda, get on the mic, and learn how good it feels to fly.
Youth Speaks is the nation’s premiere presenter of spoken word and a Turnstyle partner.
Read the rest
I love DC.
Washington is what you see on TV — the White House, the monuments, the sex scandals. But where the folks actually live, where they teach, drink, ball, and tell you about “all those Bamas from Virginia” — that’s DC. That’s my hometown. But sometimes I ask myself, is DC still my home?
I haven’t lived there in almost 10 years now, and the trips back are getting less frequent. My family is now spread up and down the East Coast, and I’m out here in California planting my roots among the eucalyptus trees. (I know, you were expecting me to say “palm trees” there — but that’s more LA than The Bay. Yes, I had to learn that too: NorCal and SoCal are very different places. It was tough realizing the beach is actually NOT the place to be in San Francisco.)
When people ask me how I got my politics (or my artistic side, depending on the conversation), I tell them two things: my family and my city. The first time I really understood the contradictions of America was when I saw homeless people sleeping across the street from the White House. I was 10 years old, and asked my dad why President Clinton wouldn’t let them sleep inside — after all, didn’t he have so much room?
The DC I grew up in was a place of beautiful people in often ugly situations. It’s changed a lot since I left — gentrification has a way of doing that. The Chocolate City is now more of a Neapolitan metropolis. Change isn’t automatically a bad thing, but it’s not all good either.
I don’t like claiming something that’s no longer mine, or maybe it was never mine to begin with. But what I do like is repping what I love. And one thing I love is the true DC that folks don’t hear when Anderson Cooper gives his latest report “Inside Washington.”
One thing DC does well is music. So for all my 202 family, and to the country that won’t give us a vote in Congress, let alone the respect we’ve earned, here are the greatest artists to come out of the District of Columbia. Study up and enjoy the listen.
10. Mambo Sauce – Any DC music list has to start with go-go. If you don’t know what go-go is (meaning, you’re like 90% of the country), it’s the music that came up in the 1970s in DC the same time that hip-hop started in New York. But since it was DC and not New York, it never left. Go-go is live percussion/funk/hip-hop/big band party music, and it’s the only beat that makes a U Street club go crazy. I grew up going to dances played by the legendary Backyard Band and UCB, but my favorite group right now is Mambo Sauce. Plus, they have a perfect 202 anthem to start the list off with:
9. DJ Spooky – Trip-hop innovator, musical propogandist, and he went to my high school (Wilson stand up!), Paul D. Miller aka DJ Spooky that Subliminal Kid is the best instrumental hip-hop DJ in the game — yeah, I said it, DJ Shadow fans. He also applied his mash-up skills to movies, making the brilliant anti-racist cinematic remix, “Rebirth of a Nation”
8. Henry Rollins – Go-go is the heart of DC, but on the other (meaning, white) side of town, there was another musical movement that was not to be fucked with either. Punk & hardcore bands ruled DC’s rock scene in the 80s and 90s, and one legend that came out was Henry Rollins. He later went on to become an actor and spoken word artist, but Rollins started in the mosh pits of DC.
7. Cornel West Theory – Of all the groups on this list, the Cornel West Theory is the least well-known — so far. Named after the socialist Black Studies professor (who cosigned on the group’s name and often joins them on stage when he’s in town), this band put on one of the craziest shows I’ve ever seen the last time I was on H Street. A mash-up of hip-hop, electronica, and spoken word spit by the lead emcee dressed up like Subcomandante Marcos, and backed by a killer band (including my boy Sam Lavine on drums), this is the revolutionary group to see right now in DC.
6. Meshell Ndegeocello - The funkiest female bassist I’ve ever seen, Ndegeocello is a legend here in the multi-culti, queerer-than-thou Bay Area. But where’d she start slapping that upright? Let’s put it this way: it wasn’t Marin.
5. Wale – The best rapper to come out of DC or just the most famous? Both. Wale came up as a go-go rapper, blending local flavor with a national appeal. While he’s toned down his political edge and straight-up go-go support, he can still move a crowd better than most emcees in the game.
4. Fugazi - I have to be real, I didn’t know how big Fugazi was until I left DC. Growing up, whenever I got home to my mom’s house in Tenleytown and there was no parking anywhere, I knew, “Fugazi’s having a show at Ft. Reno.” Little did I know, the local punk legends were national stars and political rebels. I only went to one of those free shows in the park, but it’s true– these dudes put on a damn good show, and always for a good cause.
3. Marvin Gaye – Now we’re getting to the heavy hitters. What artist could make his generation’s definitive political anthem AND its sex anthem? Marvin Gaye could, and he did. And if you’re not sure which songs I’m talking about, it’s because he has so many that are each an anthem in its own right.
2. Duke Ellington - This is a tough call, putting the Duke only at number two. The greatest big band jazz composer/musician of all time, Duke Ellington is the one who made U Street known as ‘Black Broadway.’ My little sister-cousin just graduated this week from Duke Ellington High School for the Arts, and the huge mural of him with his piano at 13th and U St was the first thing I saw when I came out the Metro to sneak into Bar Nun’s open mic night. When I was a kid learning to play piano in DC, there was only one pianist I wanted to play like: Sir Duke.
1. Chuck Brown - If it starts with go-go, it definitely needs to end with it too. That’s how that beat first got its name anyway — it just kept going and going. And it started with the originator himself, Chuck Brown.
Chuck Brown is so big in DC, that when I saw Chuck Brown and James Brown together at the 9:30 Club (still the best show I’ve ever seen, and only two years before James Brown died)…well, in DC, James Brown opened up for Chuck. And then they played together: the Godfather of Go-Go and the Godfather of Soul.
Playing long since before MTV, here’s a rare music video of the original Soul Searcher, featuring a good old house party and a cameo by Marion Barry. Don’t miss the line “eating fried chicken and drinking cappucinos.” Miss that line, and you miss the beauty, contradictions, and community of the real DC.
My hometown – and if not in body, always in spirit – my home.
* * *
Josh Healey is a writer, educator, community organizer, and author of the poetry collection Hammertime. His artistic and political work has been featured in the New York Times, Washington Post, Al-Jazeera and NPR. Healey currently lives in Oakland, CA and works with Youth Speaks to empower young artists and activists across the Bay Area and the country.
* * *
Youth Speaks is the leading nonprofit presenter of spoken word education in the country and a Turnstyle partner.
Read the rest
Josh Healey on Thursday, Feb. 17th
by Kiwi Illafonte
“I pen stories like a script writer / open bottles with a Bic lighter
til it’s hollow and I’m sick and tired…”
Honesty in artistry is hard to come by nowadays, especially in rap music. A scene once admired for its fearlessness and originality has essentially been boxed in by the very beast it fought so hard against: the mainstream. What was once considered “underground” is now on display in boutique windows; what bougie folks used to fear and misunderstand has become safe for consumption. Rarely does someone come around who throws all of these norms out the window, and challenges the status quo with their own voice, vision, and story.
Enter Nomi from Power Struggle. Now, sometimes I can’t tell whether Power Struggle is a group or a person, but that’s beyond the point. Maybe it’s simply what the name implies: a fight to gain power. Or in the case of poor and working class people, the battle for equality and dignity. And with Power Struggle’s music, beneath all the hard beats and vocal stylings are words and experiences that clearly reflect that.
Having paid dues onstage and in the studio (as a solo artist and with groups like Oddjobs and Kill the Vultures), Mario “Nomi” Demira has also earned his respective block stripes as a community organizer at the Filipino Community Center (FCC) in San Francisco’s Excelsior District. Terry Valen, the Center’s director, elaborates: “We have witnessed Nomi add an entirely new dimension to the nonprofit work of the FCC, focused on supporting working class Filipinos and their families.”
Now, one doesn’t have to listen too hard to see the influence that this work has had on his music. However, don’t write off the brother as some self-righteous, preachy soapbox emcee. On the contrary, Nomi brings his own contradictions to the forefront, balancing this reality with the politics, and weaving it all together with his distinctive Midwest baritone and working-class swag. Throw in some Mr. Rey (Denizen Kane) and Fatgums (Counterparts) beats, and you have the makings of something special. Introducing Power Struggle’s latest album, “Remittances.”
In the Filipino community, the term “Remittances” refers to the money that we send to support our families back home. This is a regular part of our culture, regardless whether we are well-off or not. These “gifts” not only serve to help our families, but they also help sustain the economy and infrastructure of the entire Philippine nation. Perhaps an appropriate metaphor for this project; one man’s contribution to help sustain our people all over the world, to keep us connected to one another’s struggles.
“Blood Of My Heart” (the first song leaked from the album) is a sonic gem that transcends the typical love song and outlines the challenges and complexities of building a relationship amidst all the struggles of the day-to-day: “It’s all work with no time for romance / No time to go dance / Hold hands / with no plans / She’s got a rally, he’s steady buildin / they got no money, keep putting off children…” Somehow captured in all of this is the beauty of the grind, the small victories that arise during times of uncertainty. There are no flowers or bubbles here, no false romanticism or lofty pedestals. Just the hustle that it takes to love.
However, the track that got me right away had to be “Artofficialfreedom.” The ascending organ chords and booming drums usher in the listener to church, setting it all up for the heat to come in: “My big homie told me, I need to slow down / I need to wake up, I need to look around…” Easing us into the song, Nomi describes the various obstacles he’s faced on the path to enlightenment, and what it has taken to get to the point he’s at now:
“Still believe in god, but god don’t believe in us
Cause we trust the dollar bill more than the will to love
Write my will in blood, and I’ll leave what I got
A couple silver bullets that never got shot
Call me superstitious, I’m a ship without a dock
A soul without a body, wandering the block…”
Rounding the album out, joints such as “Traveling Man” (a semi-autobiographical portrait of Nomi’s nomadic journeys) and “Inspired by Dream” (an dedication to the late great Bay Area Pinoy graf writer) have particularly grown on me. And it’s hard not to want to bust out into a two-step to the groovy “United in Struggle.” All in all, every song is meticulously put together, yet still maintains that intangible essence of soul and feeling. And for the icing on the cake, the album features some well-picked cameos by folks such as Bambu, Bwan, and Pele. The common thread with all the songs is that, although there is nothing formulaic about any of them, that good ol’ hip hop feeling of something fresh and raw is still induced with each listen.
Nomi is obviously loved for more than just his music, but now is his time to shine as an artist. “Remittances” is sure to be bumped continuously by folks from our generation and beyond. Poet Bao Phi (who remembers Nomi when he was first coming up in Minnesota) sums it up best: “As an artist, he’s really grown into his own voice – I can’t think of many artists of any genre who can so skillfully combine their talent with social-political commentary. His music is rare, in that it rocks the body, and at the same time it’s something I’d want my baby daughter to listen to when she grows up.”
###
Purchase the album here or find it on iTunes.
—
Kiwi’s body of work is telling. He has rocked shows up and down California, as well as Seattle, Chicago, New York City, Honolulu, and Florida, sharing the stage with the likes of Medusa, Common, the Visionaries, Blue Scholars, Black Eyed Peas, Dilated Peoples and others. His library of music includes Native Guns’ “Barrel Men” and “Stray Bullets Mixtape” CDs, and his classic first solo album “Writes of Passage: Portraits of a Son Rising” (which is part of the syllabus in San Francisco State’s Filipino-American Literature Class). He was also the former host/producer of Apex Express on 94.1FM KPFA in Berkeley, as well as one of the coordinators of the Hip Hop Workshop series for young folks at San Francisco’s Filipino Community Center.
Read the rest
Blessed with a voice that defies easy classification, Bilal is a universe to orbit. With a reputation for changing lives through the power of one note — each song he brings into the world tells a compelling story of heartbreak and transformative love. There is an undeniable healing quality to the sound he crafts. With each listen, you are bound to be moved as he seamlessly traverses the spectrum of human emotion. He takes us on an intuitive journey that mirrors the ebb and flow we experience every day when steeped in moments of deep pain and sorrow that somehow move into spaces of pleasure and possibility. He sings scripture; harmonizes survival manuscripts and belts testaments of life into the spirit of struggle. There is strength in his vulnerability and clarity in the dizzy of his madness.
How can one possibly tether Bilal to genre? He explodes every expectation with the textured range of his voice. It is for these reasons, we celebrate the release of Airtight’s Revenge – the inaugural return of Bilal to the (spot)light. For those of us who frequently knock 1st Born Second, there was presence in his absence. However, Airtight’s Revenge reveals his growth and evolution as an artist and a man. In true Bilal fashion, the record is boldly experimental — fluidly mixing genre and complimentary juxtaposed sounds ranging from jazz to electronic to funk-infused rock. And while the overall energy of Airtight’s Revenge departs from the Soulquarian era, he retains the raw soulful quality that unifies his diverse musical palette. Over the course of the record, Bilal exhibits maturation and impressive mastery of his craft (particularly on ballads like “Little One” and the stand out track “All Matter”). In addition, Bilal flexes his song-writing muscles in which the simplicity of his lyrics is beautifully nuanced by the electrifying current and frequency of his voice. As an example:
We’re all the same
and all so very different.
Divine by design
it all intertwines.
Aint nothin’ new
but it’s always changing, moving.
Still waters — soft yet so hard.
What is love, what is it?
Cool on the outside, hot in the middle.
You aint even gotta try, all you gotta do is realize.
It’s all matter.
– excerpted from “All Matter”
The sheer weight of his words defaults him into a league of his own. Each listener is guaranteed to develop their own intimate relationship with the record — only cultivated after several rotations. To echo Badu, the evocative nature of his music makes it emotionally taxing to hear at times. We’re charged with the task of re-training our ears to music that demands more presence than background noise. Indeed, we’ve come to compromise for songs that are far less activating (if at all).
I hope I’ve made a strong enough case for you to consider purchasing Airtight’s Revenge (shout out to the hardworking folks over at Plug Research for making this project possible) and supporting music as imaginative and inventive as Bilal’s. Lastly, I encourage you to take some time to watch the insightful and in-depth interview conducted by the illustrious Sweeney Kovar and the brief videos below of Erykah Badu, Janelle Monae, and Q-Tip recounting their intersections with Bilal and impressions of his talent and contribution to the musical landscape.
Cop Airtight’s Revenge HERE. Chirp with Bilal on Twitter HERE. Keep up with Bilal and Plug Research HERE.
- – - – -
Isa Nakazawa tells it like it is and then tells it how it could be. She spends her days smuggling Andre 3000 lyrics into lesson plans and writing hip-hop criticism for her face-melting blog Buggin’ Out. An east-coast transplant living in San Francisco, Isa remains notorious for her razor sharp wit and unforgiving sarcasm. Whether you cross her path in the twitterverse or city street, she is sure to be smiling wide and laughing loud.
Read the rest
by Talia Taylor
Men have their fetishes. For most: a woman’s toes. Fortunately, I can’t say the same goes for the ladies. I am pretty sure I can speak for many of us when I say our fetish is facial hair. Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it a fetish…it’s more like a strong urge to have a very quick relationship with your face.
So, in college I had a crush on this one guy. Words fell from his mouth like diamonds-the cruelty free kind. But what I liked more than what he said and the direction in which it slid, was how the hair on his face polished every single syllable.
One lady said she didn’t like it because it resembled an unkempt lawn in desperate need of a weedwacker. She can keep the concrete. Give me the lawn.
There was another guy whose goiter was trimmed so well, I was inspired to go home and write a song about it.
And yet, there was another guy whose facial hair possessed so much swag, that I momentarily forgot my name. And if you would have asked me, chances are I would have responded with “one fifteen”.
It is this serious.
So, in the spirit of all things mustached, bearded and goitered, I would like to dedicate this post to all the fly men who know how to rock facial hair. May your diamonds fall with grace.
- – - – -
If she could, Talia Taylor would have majored in Rapping, but because there is no such major, Talia did the next best thing and enrolled in six years worth of creative writing classes at San Francisco State University and the University of East Anglia in the United Kingdom. Since then, she has become a two time All Grrrl East Bay Battle Rap Champion, and resident artist to several high schools throughout the Bay Area. Talia has produced one mix-tape, and collaborated with several talented artists such as Rocky Rivera, and Bicasso from Living Legends. She is a published writer with an opinion on just about anything that has to do with relationships and pop culture.
Read the rest
