once upon a time in detroit

(Jay-Electronica, considered by many to be,"the next great emcee")

Once upon a time in Detroit, where the manhole steam oozes from below the ground like there's something volcanic below, there was music. And during the summer nights of 2002, it seemed to fill the downtown streets as if it were coming from everywhere. From every car, bar, dance club, strip club, and stage, there was music. But one crew of music makers in particular seemed to have their eyes on destiny. Every Thursday night at Marilyn's on Monroe St., you could find a special group of people performing, hanging out together, and dreaming about the future. The cast of characters included two ambitious brothers by the name of Johnny and Jemal, who were like two future music moguls. They were always talking about "where this thing could go". There was a band, Ebrahim, Brandon (the prodigy), Mark (the professor), Bamm, and a long haired rock guitarist, who's name I can't quite remember. There were two singers. One with a neo-soul aesthetic, Ms. Stacy Berret. The other, was a caribbean-born singer/producer, who went by the name of Cello Da Black Pearl. There were poets, my crew, 3rd Eye Open. Righteous, Reyonna, Tiffanni, Omari, and me, hardCore. And there was this really laid back engineer/producer who always made sure the sound was on point, Michael Chavarria. We called him Chav. We had it all. Johnny and Jemal's equipment and foresight. Talented musicians and producers. And a growing love for each other. We had everything, except an emcee.

That fall, 3rd Eye Open started working on an album at the house Johnny built, the "Sound Asylum". It was literally a house in the middle of the hood on Detroit's northwest side. We hung out at the studio a lot, but spent a limited amount of time in the booth. The activity level at the house was crazy. Tons of people were recording there, all hours of the day and night, and many a time, we simply didn't get in. As our album progressed slowly, one day we go to the house for a session, and there's this guy there. He introduced himself as Je'Ri. For months, Johnny had been talking about needing an emcee to complete his vision. His vision was this self contained group of artists that included singers, producers, a band, poets, and an emcee, that could go out and tour together. As he talked about the need of finding an emcee, he would always mention this guy who he called "the god emcee". Unfortunately, he was out of touch with the guy, didn't know where he was, or how to get back up with him. Turns out, Je'Ri, aka Jay Electronica, was the emcee Johnny had been speaking so highly of for months.

Three days after meeting Jay Electronica, we go back to the studio for a session, and to my surprise, dude has on the same clothes he was wearing the night we met him. Turns out he hadn't been to sleep either . What had he been doing for three days and nights? Making music. We found him sitting at the control booth, bottom of his white socks black, hair on his head looking as if it were on a comb/pick/brush strike. You also got the feeling if he were to lift his arms, funk would have crept out from beneath his tee-shirt with enough intensity to make James Brown proud. See, Jay was one those kind of dudes. He was different. He didn't look or act like a cliche rapper. Dude was mad humble, always smiling, always had jokes, extremely polite, and was never afraid to let the conversation drift towards the deeper side of things. Although I had been hearing about his mic prowess for a while, I had no idea he was a talented producer as well. As we joked with him about needing a shower ASAP, one of his tracks blasted through the speakers, and man, the beat was blazing. One problem. He only let us hear the instrumental of the track, no vocals. We begged him to let us hear it, but to no avail. That night, I knew at the very least, our rich family of musicians had just gotten better. If nothing else, Jay had proven to me he was an above average producer. But as we left the studio that night, I also walked away skeptical thinking, "a shy god emcee?"

Out of everybody working on projects at the Sound Asylum, my crew was the first to finish a project. We finished up our album "And Then There Was..." produced primarily by Cello Da Black Pearl, mixed and engineered by Chav. We pressed it up, and had a huge album release party at the Charles H. Wright museum. We put in the footwork to promote it, and pre-sold 700 hundred of our albums. Jay was there that night. Stacy, the singer, opened for us. Cello performed as well. And we did a two set performance accompanied by the band. Jay was the only one who didn't perform, and we definitely wanted him to, but he declined. Turns out, Jay Electronic wasn't a shy emcee, he was a perfectionist. Eventually, he did play me his stuff, and although he wasn't on the current level he's on, I was still blown away by his voice. (I still have a copy of 9 to 10 tracks he had worked on during that period) All his tracks voiced a high level of consciousness. And I'm not talking in some pseudo pro black kind of way. I'm talking about music that reminded you you were human; that you had a heart, that you mattered. It was something....fresh. Jay would leave to go shop his demo. And a few months later, came back to work on some more tracks. One day I was at the studio, still high from how well Detroit was receiving our album, and gloating because we were working on a spoken word mixtape. We were grinding. Jay and I talked and eventually took a trip over to Mosque No. 1 to get a fish sandwich. Unfortunately the kitchen was closed that day. I dropped him back off at the studio, and he begged me to let him borrow my Robin Harris "Be Be Kids" cd. I did. He got out the ride, and bid farewell in his usual manner, "peace brotha". I reciprocated and drove away. That was the last time I saw Jay Electronica. It was fall 2003.

In the years since, the vision Johnny and Jemal had kind of fell apart, at least in regards to the cast we started with. Stacey and the band continued to perform together for a few years, but eventually went their separate ways. I see the band members around town, doing their things separately. Cello Da Black Pearl produced our cd, along with his first solo project, "Imported". He now lives in Atlanta, where he continues to make music. My crew 3rd Eye Open, has been lucky enough to travel the nation performing at colleges and universities, including the Chevy booth at the Essence Music Festival two years in a row. However, we've slowed down a great deal over the last two years. I guess, life happens. We're currently in the studio looking to resurface with the release of a follow up album this year, "And It Don't Stop". And then there's Jay Electronica and Chav. Those two are still together making music. The most unsuspecting of the whole lot seem to be the only ones truly on the verge of breaking through. Jay's rhyme style has matured, and Chav has this uncanny ability to sculpt the music with very progressive mixes and arrangements that add color and depth to each track. Jay released a suite of songs entitled "Act I: Eternal Sunshine" on his myspace page that has gained him instant validation to a whole cast of new listeners. There's also a "Style Wars" EP floating around the net, along with quite a few underground videos for his music on youtube. Not only that, he's officially rolling with the big boys now. Erykha Badu, Just Blaze, Nas and the Okay Player family, just to name a few. I've been quietly rooting for him in the shadows, becoming more and more impressed by the work he's releasing. To hell with being understated, his music is certified dope! Some of the most encouraging stuff I've heard lately. But after reading about a recent performance of his, I knew it was finally time to pen something on my man Jay. A friend of mine went to that show. She called me and said, "although I love everything I have heard from him, I was underwhelmed with his show." A god emcee who can't perform? It seems Jay has some people underestimating him the way I did that day in the studio. I made that mistake once, and know better than to ever doubt Mr. Electronica again.

It appears my "what could have been" story about a certain Detroit music clique has turned more into a "what will be" story about Jay Electronica. As anticipation for more new music from him continues to grow, hopefully, a day is coming soon when we'll have an official album of his to enjoy, critique and (crosses fingers) compare to the greats. That's why I'm proud of Jay. That's why I'm proud of each artist I shared time with in that Detroit studio. We all still represent a small part of a vision for Detroit. Ultimately, if any of us make it, we all do. And right now, I don't see any of us quite as close to leaving our stamp on the game, as Jay Electronica (and Chav). Good luck brotha! One luv.

(Jay if you're reading this, can a brotha get his Robin Harris cd back!!!! lol)

enough, kwame!

"Busted is what you see!" - Kwame Kilpatrick

Black men, black men, black men. Damn, we can't win. It's bad enough the local news starts with the whole scary black man image every night, something along the lines of; armed black male suspect at large. But lately even the NATIONAL news is leading with a "black man gone wrong" story. And no, I'm not talking about Pacman "make it rain" Jones or Michael "shoot'em in the head or drown'em" Vick. I'm not even talking about (insert rapper name here) with his umpteenth drug possession or gun charge. At least with those black men, when they make the news, even if it's surprising, it's not exactly shocking. And your rational mind can easily wrap itself around the fact that those black men may just be young and dumb. So when you walk into your neighborhood barber shop, you don't feel so bad laughing about their situations when you jokingly say, "the cornrolls made him do it!" But what about when the black man under scrutiny has no excuse? When he comes from a good family, is well educated and from a very early age, has been groomed to be, somebody. When THAT black man gets in trouble and disappoints us REPEATEDLY, over a period of years, it's a much tougher pill to swallow. And when he smugly tries to act as if he can tell us any ole thing like we're dummies, or that the office of mayor is his birth right, that's when the brothaly thing to do, is not to be a sympathizer. The brothaly thing to do is light his ass up the way we would anyone else trying to bamboozle us.

I'm all for the brotha-brotha love thing. I know how it is. We're all functionally trying to make our way out of our own dysfunction, and as a black man, no matter who you are, there tends to be a lot of dysfunction. So when outsiders try to tear us down, we should all attempt to stand up for each other, especially when we begin to rise to levels of power and notoriety. I'm not saying I condone the actions of black men who do wrong. I'm saying I accept apologies, and give people the same kind of second chances I'd hope to get if I made a some major mistakes in my life. No, it really isn't easy being a black man in America, that's why I root for my brothas; that's why I rooted for Kwame. He was elected mayor of Detroit a few years after I arrived here. At the time, I thought Detroit was a pretty damn progressive city to give a young black man the top spot. I thought it said a lot about the people here, and what kind of energy they were hoping to infuse the city with. Instead of going with candidates far older, and with more of a traditional approach, they went with the prodigy, the guy they viewed as the future of Detroit. Well, a zillion scandals later, if Kwame is the future of Detroit, what a bleek pernicious future that is. Since he's been in office, despite being responsible for a slight facelift of downtown Detroit, the majority of his stay has been one minor misstep after another, culminating in a few major ones.

Arrogance is a powerful substance. When applied in heavy enough doses, it actually has the uncanny ability to make people think their shit does not stink. And when you're in that delusional state, not only do you shit privately, you shit openly, boldly, and carelessly. Why not? If you're so convinced your shit doesn't stink, it only makes sense to think it won't stink to other people as well, right? Well, Detroit recently got another huge whiff of Kwame's shit, and let's just say, it's not as minty fresh as ole boy seemed to think it was. Yesterday Kwame Kilpatrick was indicted on 8 counts of felony charges, including perjury, obstruction of justice, and office misconduct. But none of this comes as a shot in the dark, more like a money shot in the dark. That's right, I'm referring to his textual eruptions, with his chief of staff, Christine Beaty. The same Christine Beaty he lied about sleeping with under oath, in a civil case that cost Detroit over 9 million dollars. 9 million dollars for a civil case that started with an alleged party, dead strippers, and unlawfully firing deputy chief Gary Brown. See, because I support my brotha, I can forgive my brotha. But I know my brotha knows better, because I know better. And what's obvious to me is, what's best for Detroit, is something, or somebody, who can do the job better, than my brotha.

What's next for brotha Kwame? Besides trying to stay out of prison--oh yeah, he still has to do that little thing called running the city of Detroit. How you juggle both full time boggles my mind, but our brotha is convinced he can do it. Just yesterday he smugly looked into cameras saying "I'll be exonerated 100%". Who knows, maybe he will in a court of law. But in the court of brothaly opinion, I'm done with him. I think he is guilty of not keeping it real, lying repeatedly, and continually not living up to the high personal standard we set for him. I'm not here to judge his personal life. And even with the situations he may have gotten himself into, I still rooted for him to correct those mistakes. But when you represent a city, and your image, the image of a black man, becomes THE image of the city, you owe that city and all of the people in it the highest standard of excellence. After all, you were groomed for that high standard of excellence Kwame. And when you make a mistake, you show contrition, real honest heartfelt, your grandmama just shamed you contrition. You don't blame the white media. You don't blame the suburbs. You don't blame anyone. You just own up to your part in the mistake, and keep it moving, like a real brotha should. You meet and greet people with open arms, and you go to work hard, every day. In the end, you prove community excellence outweighs missteps and personal shortcomings. That's how a real brotha would have done it; how brotha Kwame SHOULD have done it. But he didn't. So now brothas like me, who rooted for him are left with four simple heartfelt words for our brotha. Enough, brotha Kwame, enough. One luv.

welcome my man darrell to the net,

nigganalysis