Miguel hit me up last Thursday.
Little did he know my night was spoken for: I was already thirty minutes outta the city at my parents spot, super ass deep into an intense Law & Order: SVU marathon with the 11-year-old kid brother and the 14-year-old kid brother. Nothing says quality brotherly bonding quite like repeatedly watching Olivia Benson hunt down rapists.
“Bruh rain check for tonight homie. What are you doing tomorrow night tho? You closing at the bodega?”
“Ya fool. Hip-hop show tomorrow night. Come through,” Miguel replied.
For almost everyday all day Belmont Bodega is just a quiet little corner shop serving the convenience needs of Southeast Portland’s patrons since at least the day before yesterday if my memory serves correctly. Once a month however the store is transformed into a block party straight outta 1978 San Fransico’s Castro District. But Friday was different. No leather daddies. Just hip-hop heads.
To celebrate First Friday my boy Miguel and the fellows at Belmont Bodega kicked off the last leg of summer by transforming the store into a rap concert. Because nothing says hip-hop more than throwing shows in places that you’re not supposed to.. Like straight up fuck the “man”.. and his perfectly ironed khakis.
Adverse Effects did a legit job of getting the party started with their own unique blend of live trip-hop but the night’s main attraction was Portland’s own Soopah Eype – a nasty fundamental lyricist hellbent on using his wits and wordplay to fuse together thoughts of black existential angst, the American Dream’s inherent lies and trying to fucking get laid.
Friday was the first night I was ever really able to hear homie’s music in full but I’ve had many passionate late night political talks with the homie prior and I was impressed by how he carried that same energy from our inebriated debates into his performance.
My only knocks on the night was that 1) the sound system kept fucking up. Nothing kills a rap party quicker than dead silence. At one point early in his performance Soopah was like “fuck it” an just kicked it acapella. 2) Motherfuckas told me the main show was to start at 10. Soopah Eype didn’t get on till like 11:45. Low key this kinda threw my shit off because I’d begrudgingly acquiescencing to the working world’s professional demand of timeliness. Like Soopah was lucky my manager wasn’t present otherwise he would have gotten a write-up.
Yet even with these minor annoyances included I had a fucking dope ass time. And judging from the vibe of the crowd everyone else did to.
With Soopah Eype and Belmont Bodega everybody wins.
Go rap musics. Go.
Download: Soop Urko by Soopah Eype
I was hanging out with this girl the other day..
It was hot out. She was wearing a tank.
She put her arms over head while we were talking.
I noticed her armpit hair..
Then she noticed I noticed her armpit hair.
“You like?” she asked.
“No,” I said.
The next day we went to the beach. It was a nude beach. But none of us were nude.
Right before heading into the water the girl stopped, turned around towards me, raised her arm and used a finger attached to the hand attached to her other arm to point and say, “Look, no hair.”
I swear to God that’s the nicest thing a woman has ever done for me.
Via: Nah Right
Black people music often get’s shitted on for it’s music videos’ overtly grotesque objectifications of women.. to which uh.. well.. honestly.. it very well should. Because even as a passionate lover of the darker sounds I’ll be the first one to admit it only takes one to spend 11.8 seconds on World Star Hip Hop to realize that some of this shit is 10 blocks beyond defense.
Perhaps that’s exactly what makes this video so insanely refreshing.. It’s refined, sophisticated, and sharp. No blurry lines (pun very much intended).
Mr. Williams is in the video but he’s certainly not it’s star; the woman are.. Natural. Assertive. Disciplined. Free. Creative. Silly. Beautiful. Intelligent. Fucking Bold.
All of them..
They own it.
Having grown up on hip-hop I can’t help but feeling like I’ve been bamboozled into believing that the pornographically generic images of club rats, booty poppers, gold diggers and pole climbers are what actual female humans look like.
So thank you Mr. Williams for reminding us that women can be more than sexual props in black music man videos.
Kudos to you sir.