Happy Throwback Thursday, everyone! What in the hell does this picture have to do with this episode? We aren’t a car show, we aren’t sponsored by Pontiac (because they no longer exist), so what is it? If you go to the “Hit Us Up” button on the website and tell me the answer, maybe you will win something from the prize box! Anyway, this week Bill is on pain killers and muscle relaxers…. and that makes for a great Bill Reads Lyrics. Don’t believe me? Let’s listen.
Happy Throwback Thursday, everyone! The title of this week’s show may seem a bit obscure, but if you are a Patron, you know exactly what the title is all about. Also, if you happened to catch our Facebook Live (which we do every Monday night), you know. Anyone else? It’s now just a title. World renowned hip hop artist Askem dropped by our live stream this week. What else do you need to know about this week’s show? Let’s listen.
Shante, the microphone grand mistress. You know her as “a pioneer, like Lola Falana, with a name, that stands big like Madonna.” The Queen from Queens is an emcee that needs no introduction. There was a time, though, where Lolita Shante Gooden wasn’t a household name. Netflix and I am OTHER (Pharrell’s creative collective) are bringing you the story of the legendary Roxanne Shante.
March 23rd, Netflix is bringing you the newest biopic, “Roxanne, Roxanne”. Not only are Forest Whittaker and Pharrell involved in the production, but RZA is in charge of the music. The film stars Mahershala Ali (who you’ve no doubt heard us talk about as Cornell on Luke Cage), Nia Long (yep, Lisa from the Fresh Prince), and newcomer Chante Adams as Roxanne.
You think you know the story because it played out on wax. I’d say unless you are Roxanne, you had better watch this film to find out for real. I know the whole Mr. Throwback Thursday crew will be watching this one the day it drops. You guys check it out and let us know what you think. Either leave us a comment or click the “Hit Us Up” button to the right and leave us a voice message. Check the trailer below, and until next time……keep it classic and always remember, New School Stale, Old School Fresh.
Happy Throwback Thursday, everyone! Once again (for the 207th time) we are here for you on a Thursday. We tried, and we tried, and we tried again to run Facebook Live this week. As you can see by the title…..third time was the charm. For those of you who were there with us, thanks! For those of you who weren’t…..you missed out! For all of you, let’s listen.
Happy Throwback Thursday, everyone! This week, the boys are so full of energy that they run overtime by almost a half an hour! For some of you, that’s bonus time with your two favorite podcasters….for others, it feels like a life sentence. Also, we get not one, not two, but THREE visits from Devilish DJ Scott in one episode! What else? Let’s listen…
Happy Throwback Thursday, everyone! What in the hell is with THIS week’s title? Are we little people playing basketball? Are we in the National League and bunting a lot? Nay nay….we are talking about the opposite of whatever that Steven A Smith of a father LaVarBall is. Want to know more? Let’s listen…
Happy Throwback Thursday, everyone! Awww…. look at that picture. It’s a little kitty….and it’s bacon. What in the hell does that have to do with our show? There’s only one way to find out!! Let’s listen.
Happy Throwback Thursday, everyone! This week, we keep our word and play not only our Record of the Week, but the One and Done as well, from the Super Bowl Champion’s home town. How is it that we can work such an incredible double dip? Let’s listen!
I am a white male that grew up in Hyde Park, New York. What I also am is a classic Hip Hop fan(atic). I was born in 1971, Hip Hop was born in 1973; we grew up together. Why is it so hard to believe that I am a fan? This is my story.
1985, I was 13 years old and in 7th grade. I went to our local department store with my mom, and wandered around the record section. While looking through the cassettes, to kill time waiting for my mother, I stumbled on four large red letters; UTFO. Doctor Ice, Kangol Kid, Educated Rapper, and Mixmaster Ice…the Untouchable Force Organization. I convinced my mom to pick it up for me, and immediately threw it in to my box when I got home. From the first seconds of “Leader of the Pack” to the last beat of “Calling Her a Crab”, I was hooked. You may think of UTFO as a One and Done, but for that 13 year old kid they were the greatest thing in the world.
From that point forward, I saved up every nickel and dime that I could buy more of this music. I went back to that department store and looked at the small section of the records titled “Rap”. I didn’t know who anyone was, so I picked up a lot of K-Tel records and cassettes that had multiple artists. Many of them were titled “Rap’s Greatest Hits” followed by a number. From this collection, I could pick out artists that I liked, as well as figure out who I didn’t. Now I could pick up that Run DMC record that I wasn’t so sure about just two weeks ago, and know that I am going to like it.
Our local radio stations played pop, rock, some country, all the stuff that everyone played in the mid 80s. One Friday night I was spinning through the dial on my father’s receiver (my box’s antenna didn’t have much strength) and found 98.7 KISS FM. I found DJ Chuck Chillout spinning this music that I had recently fallen in love with…on the radio! Chuck was playing all kinds of stuff; Run DMC, LL Cool J, Salt n Pepa, the list went on. Everything that was on those Rap’s Greatest Hits records was being played on my radio! Chuck was mixing and scratching between tracks just like they did on the records. This was the greatest thing ever! I was there for 3 hours straight, and I didn’t move. Then, like Cinderella, the stroke of midnight came and the music was gone.
I went back the next night (Saturday) hoping to hear more of Chuck’s catalog. He wasn’t there, but when the clock struck 9, Kool DJ Red Alert arrived on my radio. Another three hour set of Hip Hop for me to hear, courtesy of Uncle Red. I started taping all of these three hour sets so that I could play them during the week when Chuck and Red weren’t spinning. I began to devour those tapes; learning lyrics to Ultramagnetic songs, becoming a Stetsasonic fan, studying to be an expert in the field.
I would go to school and quote the rap lyrics that were stuck in my head from the night before, and get very strange looks. I wasn’t understanding why my friends didn’t get it. Why were they looking at me like I had three heads because I knew the lyrics to all of these songs that they didn’t know? People would call me “Wigger”(not a term I use, or endorse), and ask me if I was trying to be black. I just knew that I loved the music. Why was me liking this music so wrong? The music was dope, the lyrics were crazy, the stories drew me in; it was the greatest thing to happen to me.
I didn’t understand. What did my loving music have to do with me wanting to be different? I didn’t want to be anyone but myself. I wanted to listen to Hip Hop. I wanted people to listen to it with me. I have always been “me”, and I will always be “me”. People would treat me like I was some sort of impostor because I liked a style of music that was “black”. Wasn’t rock and roll “black music”? Wasn’t R&B “black music”?
The reactions from the black kids in my school varied from borderline bullying to completely ignoring me. I would walk in on a conversation about the new LL Cool J record and try to join in. I knew this record, it was the greatest thing in my record collection right now! It didn’t matter what I knew, I was laughed at. It was like I was the 10 year old kid trying to hang out with my big brother’s 18 year old friends. I wasn’t black, why was I trying to be black? It’s music, people…..music has no color.
The white kids were worse. In the mid-80s, white kids were supposed to listen to Motley Crue, Poison, or whatever else MTV was pitching. If you weren’t listening to the MTV artists, or whatever the local top 40 (K-104) station was playing, you weren’t “in”. Of course, if you weren’t in, you were out. I was a man without a country, of sorts, in Junior High. High School, things changed.
I found a few like-minded friends in those early days, enough to convince me that I wasn’t some weirdo. I ran with a small crew, Bill, Dana, and Battle. We were a tight crew, a total of two black guys and two white guys. We were Hip Hop fanatics. This group was proving my point that music had no color. All of the people who picked on me for being a white boy who listened to rap have gone, but I still keep up with my crew to this day.
As the years went on, and Hip Hop became more widely accepted, I thought that it would get easier for me. I was wrong. I was reciting the lyrics to “True Fuschnick” when people were still down with MC Hammer. I was banging Onyx before anyone around me knew who the hell they were. The early 80s to the mid-90s was the greatest time in music, in my opinion. How is it that people still look at me like I am an alien when I talk about going to a classic Hip Hop show?
I have been (in the last few years) to see KRS One, Rakim, multiple “Fresh Fest” concerts, and the Kings of the Mic tour. Those looks don’t exist inside these shows. Maybe it’s because everyone there is 35-50 years old. Maybe as we get older, we just sit back and enjoy the music and the journey it takes us on. It’s nice to finally find a place where I’m not a wigger, I’m not a phony; I am accepted.
Today, I am the host of an award winning classic Hip Hop podcast with my best friend, Bill (also, not a Wigger). We have interviewed DJ King Shameek, Smooth B, Chuck D, Positive K, Sweet LD, DMC and the legendary Kool DJ Red Alert. We have received drops from everyone from Grandmaster Caz to MC Serch. We have been approached to play new music from classic artists. We are very happy with the way life has turned out. I still get that look, every once in a while, that says, “Yeah, right…you’re white!” That look continues to drive me, as it always has, to prove that music is colorblind. Until next time…keep it classic, and always remember: New School Stale, Old School Fresh.