NEW goodies coming SOON for DIGITAL distribution from Big Milo Records/VYJ2!!
It's the premier Big Milo Records/VYJ2 release from:
Tori Fixx..."The Fixxology" (VBIG-CD-1402 / 8 12782 81402 3)
Tori Fixx’s Digital Only “The Fixxology” Release Slated for December 8
(Los Angeles, CA) Big Milo Records announces a new Tori Fixx release set for December 8, 2009. The project is a DIGITAL-only release entitled “The Fixxology” and is a completely remastered compilation anthology of Tori Fixx’s decade of work...plus remixes and two new tracks that indicate his new musical direction.
“The Fixxology” highlights fan favorites from his decade of work and also familiarizes others to the artist’s older material that many new fans may not be aware of. “The Fixxology” features remixes of “Respect the Situation,” “Take Care of U,” “1 Mo’ Nite,” and a completely transformed “Reciprocity,” which is the first official radio single. All tracks on “The Fixxology” have been completely remastered and brought up to modern production levels. This is Tori Fixx today, yesterday...and yet to come!
“The Fixxology” will be released on December 8, 2009, with an MSRP of $9.99 for the full release of 21 tracks. Certain songs will only be available with purchase of the entire “The Fixxology” release.
Tori Fixx is a producer and out hip hop artist who has released over 7 albums in his career - his music is a blend of hip hop, funk, soul, and pop. He has been profiled in The Advocate and Out Magazine. He has also appeared on the Tyra Banks Show and CNN's Paula Zahn Now. He was just nominated for two Outmusic Awards for material released in 2008, ("I'm the Same," also on "The Fixxology") as well as Producer of the Year for his remix of Guy B's "Co-Exist."
Showing posts with label Hip Hop. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hip Hop. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
A New Black Literary and Cultural Renaissance
This poem is one that I discovered just today. It is by the late, great poet Paul Laurence Dunbar. This poem is important for its humor, its structure, its linguistic heritage, and how it illustrates how free black and slave black used the Christian Church as a source of inspiration, but more truly, a source of organizing. When folks today wonder why the black church is so important, still, to the black community it is because it was the one place where we could gather, free of a watchful eye, where we could sing and shout our pain and anger, celebrate our small joys, and also connect through music and dance with our African heritage, which had been systemically stripped from us (for example, U.S. black slaves were the only black slaves in the Western Hemisphere to be denied the use of traditional drums...this...of course...was impetus for other musical expression and seeded the roots of country, blues, soul, hip hop, rock and roll, and jazz).
The poem also demonstrates how and why the Preacher held the role he (and she) did in slave communities. Since slaveholders proclaimed themselves to be God fearing and Christian, it was in their best interest, and supported their standing in the community, to have their slaves educated in Christian theology. As such, Black preachers enjoyed a freedom of mobility denied to common free blacks and slaves. Yet, this freedom did not come without a price. As Dunbar points out in his poem "but fu' feah some one mistakes me/I will pause right hyeah to say/Dat I'm still a-preachin' ancient/I ain't talkin' 'bout today," and when he states pithily, "Now don't run an' tell yo' mastahs/Dat I's preachin' discontent." That is to say...a preacher could and did slip in messages of freedom and liberation but those things were dangerous and could result in more strange fruit swaying in the breeze. Though, even with the fear of lynching riding high on the backs of ministers, they still travelled the pre-war South and preached messages of freedom and liberation.
This poem, though written post-Emancipation, shows also the freedom with which late 19th and early 20th century black writers wrote. Folks like Dunbar and Zora Neal Hurston were masters of the English language yet would, without apology, write in Southern black vernacular English, not as a characterization of ignorance (as was done by well meaning folks like Harriet Beecher Stowe), but as a illumination of how Southern black vernacular English (slave English) was far from ignorant and could and did transmit complicated ideas and dangerous messages in an era where a slip of the tongue or a cut of the eye could end with a black person swinging from a tree.
This is in stark juxtaposition to the debates around Ebonics in the 1990s and the characterization of Black Standard English as an expression of ignorance that needed to be stamped out with "proper" education. Indeed, all Americans should be proficient in textbook English: reading and writing. But just as a native Spanish speaker should not be discouraged from writing and expressing him or herself in Spanish even though he or she should be American born, neither should black folks distance themselves from a rich literary and linguistic tradition because the white power structure in America has characterized and still characterizes it as lacking in intellctual richness simply because it is a divergent dialect from Webster's English. That tends to happen when you snatch up entire populations of people with their own syntax and grammatical structures inherent to families of languages, force them into bondage, and then attempt to mold their languages into the boundaries of ones own.
Language was meant to grow, change, diversify, and birth new linguistic (and literary) traditions. Once upon a time, French, Spanish, and Italian were considered bastardized local offshoots of Latin. Hell, the Catholic Church didn't allow vulgar Masses until after Vatican II. Imagine...speaking to the people in a language that they understand.
In the end, this poem demonstrates the power of language and culture. Almost a hundred years after its composition, it still resonates deeply in theme, subject, content, and humor with the issues facing black communities and black culture today. Though slavery ended some 144 years ago, and black folks in the U.S. have progressed far beyond the days where preaching the wrong word could end with a short drop, the overwhelming economic, pyschic, and spiritual burdens of 300 years of slavery and a 100 years of state sponsored segregation and terrorism against black folks in United States still hangs as a heavy lodestone around the weight of the collective black psyche. Finding the strength and beauty developed and cultivated during bondage, shucking the husk of white supremacy folded around those modalities, and serving up a new black literary Renaissance that builds on our literary and linguistic traditions and opens them wide to embrace new art forms (spoken word and hip hop to name a couple), and new black communities (black Latin@s and African immigrants) could be the foundation for the next stage in the evalution of the black community in the United States.
An Ante-Bellum Sermon
by Paul Laurence Dunbar
We is gathahed hyeah, my brothahs,
In di howlin' wildaness,
Fu' to speak some words o comfo't
to each othah in distress.
An' we choose fu' ouah subjic'
Dis—-we'll 'splain it by an' by;
"An' de Lawd said, "Moses, Moses,"
An' de man said, Hyeah am I.'"
Now ole Pher'oh, down in Egypt
Was de wuss man evah bo'n,
An' he had de Hebrew chillun
Down dah wukin' in his co'n;
'Twell de Lawd got tiahed o' his foolin',
an' sez he: "I'll let him know'
Look hyeah, Moses, go tell Pher'oh
Fu' to let dem chillun go."
"An' ef he refuse do it,
I will make him rue de houah,
fu' I'll empty down on Egypt
All de vials of my powah."
Yes, he did—-an' Pher'oh's ahmy
Wasn't wurth a ha'f a dime;
Fu' de Lawd will he'p his chillum,
You kin trust him evah time.
An' you' enemies may 'sail you
In de back an' in de front;
But de Lawd is all aroun' you,
Fu' to ba' de battle's brunt.
Dey kin fo'ge yo'chains an' shackles
F'om de mountains to de sea;
But de Lawd will sen' some Moses
Fu' to set his chilun free.
An' de lan' shall hyeah his thundah,
Lak a blas' f'om Gab'el's ho'n,
Fu' de Lawd of hosts is mighty
When he girds his ahmor on.
But fu' feah some one mistakes me,
I will pause right hyeah to say,
Dat I'm still a-preachin' ancient,
I ain't talkin' bout to-day.
But I tell you, fellah christuns,
Things'll happen mighty strange;
Now, de Lawd done dis fu' Isrul,
An' his ways don't nevah change,
An' de love he showed to Isrul
Wasn't all on Isrul spent;
Now don't run an' tell yo' mastahs
Dat I's preachin' discontent.
'Cause I isn't; I'se a-judgin'
Bible people by dier ac's;
I'se a-givin' you de Scriptuah,
I'se a-handin' you de fac's.
Cose ole Pher'or b'lieved in slav'ry,
But de Lawd he let him see,
Dat de people he put bref in,
Evah mothah's son was free.
An' dah's othahs thinks lak Pher'or,
But dey calls de Scriptuah liar,
Fu' de Bible says "a servant
Is worthy of his hire,"
An' you cain't git roun' nor thoo dat,
An' you cain't git ovah it,
Fu' whatevah place you git in,
Dis hyeah Bible too'll fit.
So you see de Lawd's intention,
Evah sence de worl' began,
Was dat His almight freedom
Should belong to evah man,
But I think it would be bettah,
Ef I'd pause agin to say,
Dat I'm talkin' 'bout ouah freedom
In a Bibleistic way.
But de Moses is a-comin',
An' he's comin', suah and fas'
We kin hyeah his feet a-trompin',
We kin hyeah his trumpit blas'.
But I want to wa'n you people,
Don't you git too brigity;
An' don't you git to braggin'
"Bout dese things, you wait an' see.
But when Moses wif his powah
Comes an' sets us chillun free,
We will praise de gracious Mastah
Dat has gin us liberty;
An' we'll shout ouah halleluyahs,
On dat mighty reck'nin' day,
When we'se reco'nised ez citiz'
Huh uh! Chillun, let us pray!
The poem also demonstrates how and why the Preacher held the role he (and she) did in slave communities. Since slaveholders proclaimed themselves to be God fearing and Christian, it was in their best interest, and supported their standing in the community, to have their slaves educated in Christian theology. As such, Black preachers enjoyed a freedom of mobility denied to common free blacks and slaves. Yet, this freedom did not come without a price. As Dunbar points out in his poem "but fu' feah some one mistakes me/I will pause right hyeah to say/Dat I'm still a-preachin' ancient/I ain't talkin' 'bout today," and when he states pithily, "Now don't run an' tell yo' mastahs/Dat I's preachin' discontent." That is to say...a preacher could and did slip in messages of freedom and liberation but those things were dangerous and could result in more strange fruit swaying in the breeze. Though, even with the fear of lynching riding high on the backs of ministers, they still travelled the pre-war South and preached messages of freedom and liberation.
This poem, though written post-Emancipation, shows also the freedom with which late 19th and early 20th century black writers wrote. Folks like Dunbar and Zora Neal Hurston were masters of the English language yet would, without apology, write in Southern black vernacular English, not as a characterization of ignorance (as was done by well meaning folks like Harriet Beecher Stowe), but as a illumination of how Southern black vernacular English (slave English) was far from ignorant and could and did transmit complicated ideas and dangerous messages in an era where a slip of the tongue or a cut of the eye could end with a black person swinging from a tree.
This is in stark juxtaposition to the debates around Ebonics in the 1990s and the characterization of Black Standard English as an expression of ignorance that needed to be stamped out with "proper" education. Indeed, all Americans should be proficient in textbook English: reading and writing. But just as a native Spanish speaker should not be discouraged from writing and expressing him or herself in Spanish even though he or she should be American born, neither should black folks distance themselves from a rich literary and linguistic tradition because the white power structure in America has characterized and still characterizes it as lacking in intellctual richness simply because it is a divergent dialect from Webster's English. That tends to happen when you snatch up entire populations of people with their own syntax and grammatical structures inherent to families of languages, force them into bondage, and then attempt to mold their languages into the boundaries of ones own.
Language was meant to grow, change, diversify, and birth new linguistic (and literary) traditions. Once upon a time, French, Spanish, and Italian were considered bastardized local offshoots of Latin. Hell, the Catholic Church didn't allow vulgar Masses until after Vatican II. Imagine...speaking to the people in a language that they understand.
In the end, this poem demonstrates the power of language and culture. Almost a hundred years after its composition, it still resonates deeply in theme, subject, content, and humor with the issues facing black communities and black culture today. Though slavery ended some 144 years ago, and black folks in the U.S. have progressed far beyond the days where preaching the wrong word could end with a short drop, the overwhelming economic, pyschic, and spiritual burdens of 300 years of slavery and a 100 years of state sponsored segregation and terrorism against black folks in United States still hangs as a heavy lodestone around the weight of the collective black psyche. Finding the strength and beauty developed and cultivated during bondage, shucking the husk of white supremacy folded around those modalities, and serving up a new black literary Renaissance that builds on our literary and linguistic traditions and opens them wide to embrace new art forms (spoken word and hip hop to name a couple), and new black communities (black Latin@s and African immigrants) could be the foundation for the next stage in the evalution of the black community in the United States.
An Ante-Bellum Sermon
by Paul Laurence Dunbar
We is gathahed hyeah, my brothahs,
In di howlin' wildaness,
Fu' to speak some words o comfo't
to each othah in distress.
An' we choose fu' ouah subjic'
Dis—-we'll 'splain it by an' by;
"An' de Lawd said, "Moses, Moses,"
An' de man said, Hyeah am I.'"
Now ole Pher'oh, down in Egypt
Was de wuss man evah bo'n,
An' he had de Hebrew chillun
Down dah wukin' in his co'n;
'Twell de Lawd got tiahed o' his foolin',
an' sez he: "I'll let him know'
Look hyeah, Moses, go tell Pher'oh
Fu' to let dem chillun go."
"An' ef he refuse do it,
I will make him rue de houah,
fu' I'll empty down on Egypt
All de vials of my powah."
Yes, he did—-an' Pher'oh's ahmy
Wasn't wurth a ha'f a dime;
Fu' de Lawd will he'p his chillum,
You kin trust him evah time.
An' you' enemies may 'sail you
In de back an' in de front;
But de Lawd is all aroun' you,
Fu' to ba' de battle's brunt.
Dey kin fo'ge yo'chains an' shackles
F'om de mountains to de sea;
But de Lawd will sen' some Moses
Fu' to set his chilun free.
An' de lan' shall hyeah his thundah,
Lak a blas' f'om Gab'el's ho'n,
Fu' de Lawd of hosts is mighty
When he girds his ahmor on.
But fu' feah some one mistakes me,
I will pause right hyeah to say,
Dat I'm still a-preachin' ancient,
I ain't talkin' bout to-day.
But I tell you, fellah christuns,
Things'll happen mighty strange;
Now, de Lawd done dis fu' Isrul,
An' his ways don't nevah change,
An' de love he showed to Isrul
Wasn't all on Isrul spent;
Now don't run an' tell yo' mastahs
Dat I's preachin' discontent.
'Cause I isn't; I'se a-judgin'
Bible people by dier ac's;
I'se a-givin' you de Scriptuah,
I'se a-handin' you de fac's.
Cose ole Pher'or b'lieved in slav'ry,
But de Lawd he let him see,
Dat de people he put bref in,
Evah mothah's son was free.
An' dah's othahs thinks lak Pher'or,
But dey calls de Scriptuah liar,
Fu' de Bible says "a servant
Is worthy of his hire,"
An' you cain't git roun' nor thoo dat,
An' you cain't git ovah it,
Fu' whatevah place you git in,
Dis hyeah Bible too'll fit.
So you see de Lawd's intention,
Evah sence de worl' began,
Was dat His almight freedom
Should belong to evah man,
But I think it would be bettah,
Ef I'd pause agin to say,
Dat I'm talkin' 'bout ouah freedom
In a Bibleistic way.
But de Moses is a-comin',
An' he's comin', suah and fas'
We kin hyeah his feet a-trompin',
We kin hyeah his trumpit blas'.
But I want to wa'n you people,
Don't you git too brigity;
An' don't you git to braggin'
"Bout dese things, you wait an' see.
But when Moses wif his powah
Comes an' sets us chillun free,
We will praise de gracious Mastah
Dat has gin us liberty;
An' we'll shout ouah halleluyahs,
On dat mighty reck'nin' day,
When we'se reco'nised ez citiz'
Huh uh! Chillun, let us pray!
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Ginuwine, Joe, Chico de Barge: Free Concert On July 26 in New York
Hey folks! My girl Shante "Paradigm" Smalls of B.Q.E. fame brought to my attention that there will be a free concert on July 26th from 3pm to 7pm on Central Park's Summer Stage featuring Chico de Barge, Joe, and Ginuwine.
I will so be there.
For more information on the series, which is presented by WBLS 35th Anniversary and Globe Star Media, click here.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Eminem Eats Ass
I saw it with my own eyes. An angel with the ass of Sascha Baron Cohen decended from heaven in the midst of the MTV music awards and landed directly in Eminem's face. After a moment of hestitation...in front of millions of viewers from around the world...Eminmen buried his face in that God's gift and shoved his tongue so far in Borat's bootie that he could taste the grit from Uzbekistan in the back of Sascha's throat.
Then...realizing that he had popped major (or minor as the case was) wood in front of his homeboys...and that Dr. Dre had gotten a visible stiffy too...Eminmen...fighting that great beast Internalized Homophobia, quickly whipped it out, jerked off, shot on Borat's back, zipped up, signaled to his body guards and split. From the initial unzip to the zip up took roughly 14 seconds.
Later that evening, in an interview with TMZ, Eminmen claimed that the entire incident was due to a wardrobe malfunction with his zipper, that he was straight as hell, and that he was very angry at Sascha Baron Cohen. He indicated they would be meeting at a private, members only club called Steamworks to have a conversation about the incident and iron things out.
Details to follow.
Fuck Eminem.
I don't give a flying fuck that he happened to get sober with the help of Elton John. Sir Elton's only interest was in getting to hold onto Eminems tight little body while he came down from his latest hit. Eminem is a homophobic biyatch who has been no friend to the queer community. I don't care if the stunt was planned. I still want to punch Eminmen in the face. The fact that it was planned means that he thinks it's ok to promote homophobia and heterosexism as a joke.
I repeat. Fuck Eminem.
I am so tired of homophobic hip hop (and reggae) artists from Kingston, Jaimaca to Jaimaca, Queens throwing shade, advocating, violence against queer folks, and then...when they realize that the music business is chock full of faggotry...make some half-assed public recant and expect us all to go back to loving their asses. Eat my ass.
It is time that we turn to supporting queer hip hop artists that are holding it down on their own. Folks like my friends Invincible and Torri Fixx. Artists that spit hype shit, make their own beats, write their own lyrics, and all without having to denigrate women, queer folks or themselves in order to make music or a dollar. How about this...nothing makes you less than a man to be afraid of other men and the feelings you have. Running away from yourself or anyone else out of undeserved fear is an act of cowardice and has no place in a principled person. Now what.
I will be bold enough to say that Eminem has had more dick in his ass than Perez Hilton. And we all know Perez is a piggy poppered up power bottom that has "Abandon all hope ye who enter here" tattoed above his brown winker and a lower intestine with a permafrost layer of rotted jizz.
Damn...I grossed myself out with that last one.
I say...God bless Sascha Baron Cohen. Mazel Tov. You are my guardian angel.
Update: My friend Thomas Leavitt told me about another kick ass queer hip hop artist by the name of Juba Kalamka...support Juba as well!
Then...realizing that he had popped major (or minor as the case was) wood in front of his homeboys...and that Dr. Dre had gotten a visible stiffy too...Eminmen...fighting that great beast Internalized Homophobia, quickly whipped it out, jerked off, shot on Borat's back, zipped up, signaled to his body guards and split. From the initial unzip to the zip up took roughly 14 seconds.Later that evening, in an interview with TMZ, Eminmen claimed that the entire incident was due to a wardrobe malfunction with his zipper, that he was straight as hell, and that he was very angry at Sascha Baron Cohen. He indicated they would be meeting at a private, members only club called Steamworks to have a conversation about the incident and iron things out.
Details to follow.
Fuck Eminem.
I don't give a flying fuck that he happened to get sober with the help of Elton John. Sir Elton's only interest was in getting to hold onto Eminems tight little body while he came down from his latest hit. Eminem is a homophobic biyatch who has been no friend to the queer community. I don't care if the stunt was planned. I still want to punch Eminmen in the face. The fact that it was planned means that he thinks it's ok to promote homophobia and heterosexism as a joke.I repeat. Fuck Eminem.
I am so tired of homophobic hip hop (and reggae) artists from Kingston, Jaimaca to Jaimaca, Queens throwing shade, advocating, violence against queer folks, and then...when they realize that the music business is chock full of faggotry...make some half-assed public recant and expect us all to go back to loving their asses. Eat my ass.
It is time that we turn to supporting queer hip hop artists that are holding it down on their own. Folks like my friends Invincible and Torri Fixx. Artists that spit hype shit, make their own beats, write their own lyrics, and all without having to denigrate women, queer folks or themselves in order to make music or a dollar. How about this...nothing makes you less than a man to be afraid of other men and the feelings you have. Running away from yourself or anyone else out of undeserved fear is an act of cowardice and has no place in a principled person. Now what.I will be bold enough to say that Eminem has had more dick in his ass than Perez Hilton. And we all know Perez is a piggy poppered up power bottom that has "Abandon all hope ye who enter here" tattoed above his brown winker and a lower intestine with a permafrost layer of rotted jizz.
Damn...I grossed myself out with that last one.
I say...God bless Sascha Baron Cohen. Mazel Tov. You are my guardian angel.
Update: My friend Thomas Leavitt told me about another kick ass queer hip hop artist by the name of Juba Kalamka...support Juba as well!
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