"London is a melting pot" - my ass...

I was chillin in a car the other week with a few country bumpkins (from the outskirts of Cambridge). We got to talking about Notting Hill Carnival, and I relayed a grim story about how one of my friends witnessed a stabbing at carnival this year. The conversation then went as follows...
Bumpkin #1: "Yeah, it's pretty dangerous there."
Bumpkin #2: "Well, of course - it's full of blacks."
At this point, as I scrambled to pick my jaw off the floor, I couldn't help myself - I busted up into hysterical laughter. Who the fuck says that, let alone thinks it? What the hell century are we in? Bumpkin #2 awkwardly laughed with me, clearly oblivious as to why I was screaming with laughter. He really had no reservations because he genuinely thought it was an acceptable thing to say. Meanwhile, Bumpkin #1, realizing that there was a half-minority in the car, attempted to make a pathetic joke to cover up his friend's ignorance (something like "Uh yeah, of course there's black people there - like, imagine a Caribbean festival full of just white people!" *insert cringeworthy posh laugh here*).

All in all, it's a situation I've been stuck in countless times on this side of the pond: someone makes a outrageous prejudiced statement, and I laugh it off as this country's problem, not mine. When I first moved here and got hit with England's prevailing, overwhelming racism, I would self-righteously stick up for what I believe in (in one instance, I even told some closet racist I was half black to prove a point, and the cretin believed me - I'm half Japanese, bitch!). But these days, I just sit back and watch the comedy unravel. London, despite its exaggerated and unrealistic claims to be a fucking "melting pot" (if I hear that phrase one more time, heads will roll), is a diverse city overflowing with isolated people that secretly disdain, mock and scrutinize anything different from themselves. I went to college in Indiana, capital of Racism, USA - for example, a week before my classes started, the local high school cheerleaders dressed up in KKK costumes at a basketball game - and I experience far more racism here. At least twice a week someone will speak in mock Chinese/Japanese to me (ie. "sayonara" "ni hao"...some dude even yelled "sushi!" down the street the other day), and I constantly have to explain to people that yes, I do speak Engrish. Last year, someone threw a snowball at me and then asked, "What are you gonna do, Jackie Chan?" while busting out a few karate chops.

And while for the most part I find this shit hilarious, there are days when I'm just not in the mood. Today being one of them, mainly because I'm dealing with a hellacious champagne hangover, but also because on my walk/stumble into work this morning, some random builder hollered out "ching chong China!" I pointed at him and his witless builder friends and said, "Ewww, white people!" (sorry dad)
I'm scared that when I leave work they'll all be waiting for me in the parking lot with a burning wok.

Anyway, in response to Dr Hwen's hangover cure, I'm finding that my hangover declined slightly when I rediscovered Louie Austen today. So for any of you who may have a sore head, let Louie and Herbert heal all...

Louie Austen - Hoping (Herbert's High Dub)

Incoming: Friday BANGER...

There can't be a better way to wake up in the morning than having Ricky Ross pour you a strong cup of coffee. Just imagine. I can practically hear the engaging, stimulated conversations that would follow, if an interview I read on SoundSlam is anything to go by...

SoundSlam: Rick, how are you doing?
Rick Ross: Just hustling.

SoundSlam: For a while, Hip-Hop has been about partying and diamonds. But it seems like Hip Hop is getting back to being grimy. With all these artists claiming to be hustlers, what makes you different?
Rick Ross: Cause I'm me. I represent the 305. Miami. I'm Rick Ross.

And there can't be a better way to kickstart the weekend than dropping the boss' new single. Some straight up epic shit.

Rick Ross - Trilla

I'll throw in another Rawws banger, because it's Friday. And also because I've entered myself in an eating contest at Cargo on Sunday (time for my American roots to shine, bitches - that prize is mine). The line "I weigh 300 pounds, and it's time to eat" will be the mantra that carries me to victory.

Montana Da Mac feat Rick Ross & Bun B - We Runnin The Streets

Please note that Rick Ross will forever change how you pronounce words ending in 'oss' - boss, floss, sauce, lacrosse, etc. He's also likely to make you name your firstborn son Ross (or is that just me?).

I wish I could "develop the negative into a positive picture"...

Hot damn, my eyes are bleeding.
Last week I got curious to see what Lauryn Hill was up to, besides hating white people, and I found this picture. L Boogie. What the fuck happened? As far as I remember, she didn't have a drug problem...maybe a slight problem with the Bible but I'm not sure if that book of fairy tales would really affect her fashion decisions so badly. Or her ability to perform - apparently at her last Oakland concert back in June, the madwoman was huffing, puffing and wiping profuse sweat with a black handkerchief (see exhibit B below).


Voice cracking, talking some crazy (said to the concert-goers: "I can’t fit into a stereotype that makes me comfortable for you. If that makes me feel uncomfortable to you, I need to find some new company"), coming on 2 1/2 hours late and singing 'Ready Or Not" over techno - it apparently got so bad that, only 4 songs into the show, over 100 people had demanded refunds for their $90 tickets.

Ah, yet another sad story of fame gone wrong. Damn shame though, to this day her lyricism remains unparalleled...

It's an alien

From the 'Trapped In The Closet' screening last week...




One of these days I'll get around to posting something non-Kells - but until then, you can feast your eyes on three brilliant R articles I found:
* Hillary Brown's Nature Vs Nurture
* Mr Show Biz's Magnum Opus
* Hattie Collins Meets R Kelly

Fuck it, here's something for your feet too - do your 2-step to what's possibly the most ridiculous T-Pain remix yet...
Kells & Ush feat T-Pain - Same Girl (remix)

"I'm no angel here, but I'm no monster either..."

I saw someone wearing this tee on Friday and felt thoroughly inspired...maybe we should set up a WAMP merchandise section?

Does UK hip hop have hope, after all?

Youtube find of the day.

Kells and...Cells?

Truth is damn stranger than fiction. Probably the best evidence imaginable: Celine Dion has decided to make an RnB album. That's right. And she's lined up Timbaland, Ne-Yo and R Kelly (obvs the album would just be 'nB' without R) for the shocker. Timbaland's been acting slightly eccentric recently, but Dion's a full-on unabashed embrace with crazy. M.I.A. did say in a recent interview that he'd said, "I'm done with being cool; I want to work with Celine Dion." But I suppose that's fair enough, 'Come Around' is enough to put anyone off the supposed "cool"(cough). Anyway, I'll be all over this shit when it's out in October - I just hope Cells will let Kells direct the videos.

How do you go from Cee-lo to Celine? Answers on a postcard...
Cee-lo Green feat Timbaland - I'll Be Around

StarbuckWILD...

Sometimes I feel like Starbucks has a personal vendetta against me. I'm not as paranoid as this crazy motherfucker, but I feel as though that they are attacking me on all sides lately. First, my wallet. In London, a Frappucino is the price of a decent lunch (and c'mon now, who can afford lunch at the end of the month in this unfeasible city?). Second, my tastebuds. The lushness of a Starbucks coffee makes it so easy to justify financing their globalized takeover. One foamy caramel macchiato doesn't really hurt anyone, right? Thinking about their aggressive "cancerous"expansion techniques (hyperactive growth of chains; they're happy to crush one of their own branches as long as they take someone else down in the process) always makes my Chai tea latte a little hard to swallow...but damn, it still goes down so smoothly. Third, my eyes: that fucking logo is everywhere. There are FOUR Starbucks within a 2-block radius of my office in central London - say what?

And now, most recently and most offensively, the 'bucks has even hit my ears. Starbucks' record label has been paining me for obvious soul-destroying reasons, the further degradation of the music world and what not. But, to add insult to injury, Starbucks keeps picking musicians I once held so morally high - artists that have nothing to prove, that already have more money than they could spend in one lifetime. In the words of AniDiFranco, "everyone is a fucking Napoleon." Paul McCartney came as no surprise, that man and his fugly ex-wife will do anything to get noticed...but Joni Mitchell? That's where this shit gets personal. Her albums are pretty much the soundtrack to my formative years; I still have yet to find anything quite as heartbreakingly beautiful as 'Blue.'

Flashback to 6 months ago, when Joni talked about how 'ashamed' she was of the music industry: "I just think it's a cesspool. I would never take another deal in the record business, which means I may not record again, or I have to figure out a way to sell over the internet or do something else...It's tragic what MTV has done to the world."

Hypocritical sell-out or not, she's still the shit.
Joni Mitchell - Woodstock

There's also rumors of Prince (the artist formerly known as credible) and James Taylor being signed up. And then today I read about Dave Matthews and Starbucks teaming up on some sort of yawnworthy live release - how's about that for a corporate wet dream? Whatever, I gotta go...my latte's getting cold.

Watch 'em swing, watch 'em swing...

I woke up this morning thinking about E-40. It's not often I rise with thoughts of the Ambassador of the Bay, but today my first concious thought was: why hasn't hyphy kicked off in the UK? With genres like dubstep/dnb/grime being so prevalent on UK airwaves and dancefloors, isn't it strange that the hard-hitting, bass-heavy, electronic-fused sounds of crunk and hyphy aren't understood here? Across the Atlantic, support reaches all the way to the Oscars. On this end, Londoners are always asking me who Lil' Jon is (i.e. asking me mid-crumpet "Pardon me love, but pray tell - who is this Lil Jon bloke you always go on about?"). And when Shadow came through town a couple weeks ago, everyone and their media dog was panting about their hate (read: misjudgement) of 'The Outsider.' I mean, how could you watch this video and NOT want to dedicate your life/career to stunna shades and shakin' dreadlocks?



Great retaliatory shout from Shadow: “At that point in my career, I was looking to do something different and didn’t really care what people thought, so I began to reach out to the people involved, trying to make something happen. As far as I’m concerned this movement comes in two halves: before 'Tell Me When To Go' and after. That’s why I was so glad to make my mark before it really crossed over. I remember last year driving through Oakland, I’d just released 'Three Freaks' and heard a bunch of kids coming out of school singing it. That was fantastic, because, when you think about it, who would you rather make hip-hop for — men in their thirties or the kids who are really part of it?”

Whenever I ask UK-based people about their lack of love for regional stateside hip hop, I tend to get some sort of lackluster response along the lines of "In the UK, we support UK music." Hmm. I've got reservations about UK hip hop personally. Icey so coldly (and beautifully) once put it: UK hip hop is a fucking parasite. I'd say it's more like US hip hop's little brother, an underdeveloped carbon copy that hasn't quite figured out its place in the real world yet. I want to patronizingly pinch its cheeks and ruffle its hair like, "aww, look - it thinks it's a veritable genre, how sweet." But that's a story for another day. Today is payday, after all - as such, I'll leave you with this banger...

Lil' Jon feat Three 6 Mafia - Act A Fool

She be callin' you Kelly, when your name is Tommy...

The first time I laid eyes on a R Kelly mannequin, his lyrics popped in my head: ' You make a right on L, make a left on O, come to a green light and that's when you can go. You keep straight on V, until you come to E, that's when you see a big sign that says "Welcome to Love Street."' It was love at first sight, and I've been camped out on Love Street ever since. I've spent many a bored/hungover (I'm rarely the former, usually the latter) afternoon googling how to buy or rent one - and I finally stumbled across this. What I wouldn't do for a life-size sexasaurus doll...Imagine it as an addition to your living room, occasionally giving his weather predictions ("the forecast today is love is all around"), maybe even spouting off some musings about space ("ten to zero, blast off here we go, we'll be climaxing until we reach Mercury"). I think every household kitchen should have one custom-built next to the oven. It would also work well as an addition to every family dinner, a nude Kells quietly chillin there as you say grace (god knows I don't say grace - but if I did, it'd be fucking great to have Kells there too). Shit, actually costumes would be a must. I could throw on one of those random zorro masks from the 'Hotel' vid, or maybe a pair of those weird-ass sunglasses R's been flexing recently, or have it hold a Beretta a la 'Trapped In The Closet.' My friends and I discussed the prospect of it being a nice garden feature, if it was equipped with a golden shower function (obvs Kells' specialty). But then we decided it would probably be best used as a urinal, for irony's sake.

Lemme know if you catch sight of an Ush mannequin anywhere, so I can fulfill my dream of reenacting scenes from the 'Same Girl' video.