My friend and force-of-nature-at-large Sheefy McFly was kind enough to let me guest appear on his latest album, "Thee Coolest Loser." Sheefy is one of the most unique and talented individuals I've met in the Detroit hip hop scene. He dropped out of art school to be a rapper and producer full time, and supports massive marijuana and junk food habits solely through hustling beats out of his backpack studio. The price of a beat from Sheefy varies from day to day depending on how desperate he is to smoke or cop a sack of Telway's. A man of limited resources myself these days, it was natural that we make a song about our financial struggles:
I've been buying beats for Sheefy for a couple of months now, and his production will figure prominently on my upcoming EP, "Who's Holding?" If you have not seen Sheefy perform, or attended his vibrant monthly showcase, "The Air Up There" at Bob's Classic Kicks, you are missing out on one of Detroit's most engagingly charismatic performers. Download his music for free at SheefyMcFly.bandcamp.com and support one of the scenes hungriest up and coming artists.
I live three blocks from the corner of Michigan and Trumble. The grounds where the old Tiger Stadium once stood is for me the most depressing and poignant vacant lot in a city with no shortage of worthy candidates. You get so anesthetized to decay and erosion driving around Detroit that it takes something like a venerated ballpark being torn down and replaced with nothing to provide even a dull shock. I get that, but I also can't help driving past the stadium without thinking of Mark Fidrych talking to baseballs and Willie Horton throwing out Lou Brock. One is compelled to wonder what would happen if the moral lives of the men who balled at the old stadium were subject to the same process of dilapidation.
They would start doing meth, of course, and I freestyled some shit one night to that effect...
So yeah, don't be surprised if Willie Hernandez asks you if you know where he can score some tweak next time your walking out of Nemo's. It's opening day in Detroit, suckaz, THE OLD TIGERS ARE ON METH!
Two episodes from his recent trip to England illustrating why Charles Vann, my good friend who writes and records as the bathing suit rapper SelfSays, is one of illest human beings alive:
Charles discovered that McDonalds in the UK offer a 'Spicy Curry' Chicken McNugget sauce that is not available here in the states. He smuggled a dozen or so packs of it back home, making the condiment repertory in his fridge something I don't think many other rappers would want to step to.
Charles took a lot of pictures across the pond. He visited all the major institutions and shot dinosaur bones, land indenture documents, crown jewels, etc. But Charles himself was in very few of the pictures. He was giving me a slideshow up at the 5E and after ten minutes of shots of people who are not one of my favorite rappers getting on and off the Subway I told him I wanted to see pictures of him doing some extra strength English shit. So he flipped through his camera and showed me a picture from the Entertainment Museum, where he was posted up next to Han Solo frozen in Carbonite from Return of the Jedi.
I'd like to allegorically extend the central objects of these vignettes, Mcnugget sauce packs and Han Solo in Carbonite as a way of explaining why I find Charles rap enterprise so unique and exciting. Have you heard Sleeping Beauty?
Chicken McNugget experiences are all about immanence and immediacy. Being able to embellish the McNugget with an esoteric, international sauce is blessing something disposable with exquisite stylishness. And so we see Self on Sleeping Beauty enriching a universal predicament with his distinct and elusive flavor. Charles' immersive lyricism bristles with swaggering frailty and subtle tension as he conveys all the vagaries and compromises intrinsic to loving someone when everyone else tells you they're worthless. Self was benevolent enough to hit me off with a few of his freshly imported Spicy Curry's, and I've taken to the habit of whispering, "so sleep, beauty, sleep" to my McNuggets before dipping them in that good English and sending them down.
Sleeping Beauty shows Self at his most vulnerable. Caught up, conflicted, set upon by competing impulses, wanting to go for delph but sensing there is a greater good he could serve. It is the predicament of the Carbonite frozen Han Solo that he was compelled to be photograph with, that he prioritized over brontosauruses and bejeweled scepters. A situation where you open yourself to disparagement and contempt, but have no choice but to remain true to your own aesthetic, the decision making processes that got you where you are. Han Solo never wanted to be anyone else, even while he was getting froze up, and I don't think Charles would want to trade place with anyone either, even when he's having to hustle to balance his musical aspirations with college, keeping the lights on, and maintaining stats as a gentleman of leisure. When the hyper drive fails he's not afraid to say my bad, and in so doing achieves a rancorous but deeply personalized authenticity.
Self puts himself out on wax in a way that invites people to participate with him in the minutia of his everyday struggles, from having his car stolen and not having insurance to figuring out what kind of hot sauce best accentuates his top ramen. He is able to infuse these banal incidents with enough personality and vibrancy that they seem as nuanced and vital as some a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away type shit.
Its freezing out here, and all we have are these bathing suits. Its all good though. All the Carbonite did was make Han Solo colder.
Check out SelfSayswhat.com and download the album "Something Out of Nothing" for Free. We perform together around town a lot too. Keep your ears peeled.
The rapper Doc Waffles (who I write for and sometimes am) will be pouring non events, shaking tail feathers, calibrating trapezes, smoking in bed, and otherwise encouraging libertine behaviors at a number of thought provoking watusicentric loveshows coming up in the next few weeks. This is in advance of the April 1st release of How To Shoot Quail, which is mostly recorded and just needs the bristling application of Caligula soundbites from The Robe at the head and tail of each song. An official release party will be in the works for mid-April but in the meantime, here is a schedule of upcoming events where I will be appearing.
Feb. 26th: "Serious Delerium" at the Vernors Room, Pontiac, a night of hip hop and improvisational comedy ft. Doc Waffles, Self Says, Detroit Cydi, and a motley gang of local improv. all stars.
Feb. 27th: "The Air Up There" at Bob's Classic Kicks, Detroit with One B. Lo, Coldmen Young, Sheefy McFly, etc.
March 13th: "Gentleman of Leisure" Underground Party in Ann Arbor with Fluent, Self Says, Sheefy McFly, and Scav D. The purple coat makes its first Ann Arbor appearance.
March 26th: "I'm Caked Out, Jack" Underground Party in Detroit with Fluent, Self Says, Detroit Cydi, The Telephone Callers, Dark Cube, Kush Twinz, etc. I made some inquiries about bringing Mr. I'm Caked Out Jack himself, Ice T in for this event but his people are trying to get that Law and Order bread so I think I'll just get my manager Hubert Sawyers to dress up as c. 1989 Ice and perform "Colors" for 1/1000th of the cost.
In preparation for these events I recommend you download the latest hit jams at docwaffles.bandcamp.com, selfsayswhat.com, and fluent.bandcamp.com. This is a gateway to geekery of sorts into Detroit Bathing Suit Rap. Get after it right now while your waiting for your hair to dry, hipsters, while its still congealing and nascent.
