The EBC Blues
I never thought rhymin’ at Rucker would be a cinch
And the first time out, I admit, I flinched
The mic shook in my hand so much it looked like live fish
I’m not cryin or tryna be on some kinda pride ish
I was glad because at least I tried this
But on the matter of my skin, emcee teased me
Called me “Caspar the Friendly Ghost,” awful cheesy
Took the cliché route, no doubt easy:
White boy uptown? Must be down for something sleazy
Came to Harlem for the drugs? Nah, brother please see
I’m wise, besides them ends are beneath me
See, I moved here from the Yay—may I teach thee?
Northern Cali’s valleys tally fine qualities :
365 a year its chill and you feel breezy
Kids got hyphy 'cause they bump that E-Feezy
In Oaktown Roscoe cooks chicken and waffles, greasy!
And the 415 is where you drive to get the trees, B
I know the A’s tend to start a lot of rookies,
Still their winnin’ streaks freak out all the bookies
A few more lines? I’ll give you time, you look shook G
A vegan eats no fish—do not bite my hooks please
On the court, call me “Monster”—I get the cookies
Not “Caspar.” Dude, you've been a wonderful host
Maybe you should sit down, you're starting to look like that ghost
With your name, why'd you ask me to open my mouth?
Al Cash, if you got smoked they'd call you "all cashed out."
Joe-No-Lino
I’d like to leave, when I’m done, in one piece
So I’ll stop here to say: one love, one peace
Then stay on point this here joint's about EBC
Flashback to a recap last year on TV
A game Terror Squad won, they were getting interviewed
No Stephon, just them lower profile dudes
Who got nice game, but just the same, outside the hood
Ain’t household names—it’s only fame, it’s all good
Anyway, here they are on the televised tip,
But before a word drops from their lips
Their manager bum rushed, man I started to trip!
In fact from where I sat, it looked like a total eclipse
He was crowding all the shots while his men stood in back
Waving his three fingers—y'all remember that?
Now this man has skills I certainly lack
Business acumen, promotional tools, cash in stacks
And face time? Every hour BET spins his tracks
But Joe, when your hoop bros give their minutes, 15, a crack
Homeslice, take your own advice, “Lean Back!”
Monday, July 25, 2005
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Susie Ibarra & Min Xiao-Fen at Firehouse 12
The capacity crowd chatters in anticipation, emitting a dense mosaic of conversational rhythms into the creative space. Even the small talk takes on a musical tone at Firehouse 12, New Haven's newest jazz venue. The club's performance space also functions as a state-of-the-art recording studio, and the meticulous design offers every listener optimal aural delights.
Adding to our pleasures, this summer's initial series of concerts curated by guitarist Joe Morris has been deliciously varied. Following pianist Matthew Shipp's christening gig, Firehouse 12 has featured the delerious drums of Dutch master Han Bennink, unsung tenor saxophone hero Joe McPhee, bassist Chris Lightcap's buoyant arrangements for quintet, the strings-cum-reed lushness of the Rob Brown Trio, and more.
Tonight's lineup offers further surprise, as Ms. Ibarra is one of those rare percussionists who serves up not only unique tempi, but flowing melody from her kit as well. Moreover, after she and distinguished pipa player Min Xiao-Fen have taken the stage, the audience is informed that the duo is performing together in concert for the first time.
Their ensuing set is nevertheless a showcase of intuition and expertise, Ibarra's shifting rhythms meshing with the Chinese string instrument and mesmerizing the crowd. Where much avant music finds its innovations in angles, the elements of this music are supple and curved--during one gorgeous piece, the percussionist plays a bowl of stones as accompaniment to the exquisitely plucked pipa. At such moments her duties seem far outside those of the traditional timekeeper. Rather, the time becomes one with the musicians' imagination, and all present are truly brought inside the music.
Melodic references to Western standards seem to reach out to any listeners needing to alight on the familiar: Miles Davis' "All Blues" appears within an extended solo, and Xiao-Fen makes merry with sizzling incorporation of a traditional Appalachian fiddle melody she dubs "The Red-Haired Boy Dances With The Dragon." For me, this concert's most sublime passages were those which seemed most inspired by the wind, gentle then tempestuous by swift turns. Eschewing sticks and brushes, Ibarra on one song played her entire kit using hand cymbals to strike the skins, breaking the rhythms into a myriad of propeller-like vibrations.
Adding to our pleasures, this summer's initial series of concerts curated by guitarist Joe Morris has been deliciously varied. Following pianist Matthew Shipp's christening gig, Firehouse 12 has featured the delerious drums of Dutch master Han Bennink, unsung tenor saxophone hero Joe McPhee, bassist Chris Lightcap's buoyant arrangements for quintet, the strings-cum-reed lushness of the Rob Brown Trio, and more.
Tonight's lineup offers further surprise, as Ms. Ibarra is one of those rare percussionists who serves up not only unique tempi, but flowing melody from her kit as well. Moreover, after she and distinguished pipa player Min Xiao-Fen have taken the stage, the audience is informed that the duo is performing together in concert for the first time.
Their ensuing set is nevertheless a showcase of intuition and expertise, Ibarra's shifting rhythms meshing with the Chinese string instrument and mesmerizing the crowd. Where much avant music finds its innovations in angles, the elements of this music are supple and curved--during one gorgeous piece, the percussionist plays a bowl of stones as accompaniment to the exquisitely plucked pipa. At such moments her duties seem far outside those of the traditional timekeeper. Rather, the time becomes one with the musicians' imagination, and all present are truly brought inside the music.
Melodic references to Western standards seem to reach out to any listeners needing to alight on the familiar: Miles Davis' "All Blues" appears within an extended solo, and Xiao-Fen makes merry with sizzling incorporation of a traditional Appalachian fiddle melody she dubs "The Red-Haired Boy Dances With The Dragon." For me, this concert's most sublime passages were those which seemed most inspired by the wind, gentle then tempestuous by swift turns. Eschewing sticks and brushes, Ibarra on one song played her entire kit using hand cymbals to strike the skins, breaking the rhythms into a myriad of propeller-like vibrations.
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