Ol' Dirty is Dead
I know I have been derelict in updating my journal. I promise I will get better. It will start tomorrow.
But now, I must post my reactions to news that I never knew would affect me so badly.
http://www.mtv.com/news/articles/1493725/20041113/story.jhtml
Ol Dirty Bastard died. I'm not here to judge the "quality" of a person, or their life. However, I have to acknowledge the effect his music had on my life.
Out of the East-Coast Rap scene of the early 90's, Wu-Tang Clan was the one act that I really got into. I always found the British Punk of the 70's to be very similar to the NYC Hardcore Rap scene. Same kind of social difficulties, same shitty situation giving birth to raw, emotional, angy, passionate music.
I would never have been really exposed to this stuff had it not been for my old college roommate, Justin. Those were some great times. Justin was originally from Detroit, and he was a big Hip-Hop fan. I definitely wasn't. I was all about punk and hardcore. We had a great influence on each other. He really got into my music, and I his.
ODB kicked ass. Yeah, he had a record deal and still got wellfare checks and food stamps. When he didn't win the Grammy, he got onstage anyway, and took the mic, telling everyone that he should have won, since he spent all that money on new clothes.
And then there was the PM Dawn incident. Big Baby Jesus got onstage and kicked their pansy asses. Can't beat that!
Even recently, when Bob, Heath and I went down to San Diego, I made them listen to Ol Dirty. I don't know if they really enjoyed it or not, but I had a blast, sharing his crazy shit with friends. Now, whenever I hear ODB, I have another great experience to associate with it. Hell, even Brianna enjoyed listening to ODB with me.
So I guess what I am trying to say is that I am a sentimental bastard. I hang on to memories with a fierce tenacity, and music is often related to memories. When something attached to those memories dies, it brings all of those memories back to vivid life.
The Genius!
But now, I must post my reactions to news that I never knew would affect me so badly.
http://www.mtv.com/news/articles/1493725/20041113/story.jhtml
Ol Dirty Bastard died. I'm not here to judge the "quality" of a person, or their life. However, I have to acknowledge the effect his music had on my life.
Out of the East-Coast Rap scene of the early 90's, Wu-Tang Clan was the one act that I really got into. I always found the British Punk of the 70's to be very similar to the NYC Hardcore Rap scene. Same kind of social difficulties, same shitty situation giving birth to raw, emotional, angy, passionate music.
I would never have been really exposed to this stuff had it not been for my old college roommate, Justin. Those were some great times. Justin was originally from Detroit, and he was a big Hip-Hop fan. I definitely wasn't. I was all about punk and hardcore. We had a great influence on each other. He really got into my music, and I his.
ODB kicked ass. Yeah, he had a record deal and still got wellfare checks and food stamps. When he didn't win the Grammy, he got onstage anyway, and took the mic, telling everyone that he should have won, since he spent all that money on new clothes.
And then there was the PM Dawn incident. Big Baby Jesus got onstage and kicked their pansy asses. Can't beat that!
Even recently, when Bob, Heath and I went down to San Diego, I made them listen to Ol Dirty. I don't know if they really enjoyed it or not, but I had a blast, sharing his crazy shit with friends. Now, whenever I hear ODB, I have another great experience to associate with it. Hell, even Brianna enjoyed listening to ODB with me.
So I guess what I am trying to say is that I am a sentimental bastard. I hang on to memories with a fierce tenacity, and music is often related to memories. When something attached to those memories dies, it brings all of those memories back to vivid life.
The Genius!