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Moments you can never forget
Apr. 15th, 2008 04:37 pmIt was sometime in May 1981.
Life was about as good as it ever had been. We were cruising the end of the eighth grade. I had already been accepted into a ridiculously exclusive high school. Most of the kids who had given me trouble in 6th and 7th grades were long gone. I was elected--and declined--the office of class president a few months before. Did I mention that I hadn't bothered running for office?
We were sitting in music class (where the teacher would give me only the second 'B' I'd receive in a year-and-a-half) during a much-anticipated day: We could all play whatever music we wanted.
There was the typical Prince and Rick James and who have you and whatnot...and then Maurice Moore walked up with a fluorescent green 45 LP. (I know, I know, shut up already--so I'm OLD) And it played something the likes of which I had never heard before...music that would change everything. Eventually it would change R&B, rap music right at its roots and the styles of untold bands to come.
April 19, 2003
The ex slammed the door of our new minivan and dashed through our front door, ready to scream at the top of her voice...again. But there's one thing she wasn't counting on that night. Maybe I wasn't counting on it either. But it had to happen. The confrontation that would end it all.
She left after an hour or two. I left the next morning after packing a few things. The rest of the story? Well, you've read most of that.
So why am I bringing them both up?
Because Saturday night marks my fifth year since I walked free.
And? The first time these artists from way, way back come to town.
EVER.
They've been around since I was maybe three years old.
Since 'Electronic Music' meant 'build your own synthesizer.'
In the early 80s, Afrikka Bambaataa would remix their Trans-Europe Express into his Planet Rock, marry rap and electronica into house music and pioneer a sampling style copied by everyone from Diddy to Kanye. Their early tracks continued to resurface everywhere from Missy Elliot to Coldplay.
They haven't been anywhere near these parts since a surprise visit to Detroit in 1989. Though I have to admit it's going to be a bit less impressive now that their original analog machinery--cords, platforms and all--have been supplanted by a bunch of...perish the thought...Sony VAIO laptops. Damn modern efficiency. Damn it all to hell.
Hell of a way to celebrate five years of freedom, eh?
Not that I'm 'free' any more. But I couldn't be any more happy 'bout THAT.
Life was about as good as it ever had been. We were cruising the end of the eighth grade. I had already been accepted into a ridiculously exclusive high school. Most of the kids who had given me trouble in 6th and 7th grades were long gone. I was elected--and declined--the office of class president a few months before. Did I mention that I hadn't bothered running for office?
We were sitting in music class (where the teacher would give me only the second 'B' I'd receive in a year-and-a-half) during a much-anticipated day: We could all play whatever music we wanted.
There was the typical Prince and Rick James and who have you and whatnot...and then Maurice Moore walked up with a fluorescent green 45 LP. (I know, I know, shut up already--so I'm OLD) And it played something the likes of which I had never heard before...music that would change everything. Eventually it would change R&B, rap music right at its roots and the styles of untold bands to come.
April 19, 2003
The ex slammed the door of our new minivan and dashed through our front door, ready to scream at the top of her voice...again. But there's one thing she wasn't counting on that night. Maybe I wasn't counting on it either. But it had to happen. The confrontation that would end it all.
She left after an hour or two. I left the next morning after packing a few things. The rest of the story? Well, you've read most of that.
So why am I bringing them both up?
Because Saturday night marks my fifth year since I walked free.
And? The first time these artists from way, way back come to town.
EVER.
They've been around since I was maybe three years old.
Since 'Electronic Music' meant 'build your own synthesizer.'
In the early 80s, Afrikka Bambaataa would remix their Trans-Europe Express into his Planet Rock, marry rap and electronica into house music and pioneer a sampling style copied by everyone from Diddy to Kanye. Their early tracks continued to resurface everywhere from Missy Elliot to Coldplay.
They haven't been anywhere near these parts since a surprise visit to Detroit in 1989. Though I have to admit it's going to be a bit less impressive now that their original analog machinery--cords, platforms and all--have been supplanted by a bunch of...perish the thought...Sony VAIO laptops. Damn modern efficiency. Damn it all to hell.
Hell of a way to celebrate five years of freedom, eh?
Not that I'm 'free' any more. But I couldn't be any more happy 'bout THAT.
