A remix can work wonders for an otherwise flat, over-commercial, over-played, over-worked piece of music. But done badly, it can strip out the soul, the very essence of the song and leave the audience with nothing more than a mind-numbing mash-up of noise. With this in mind, it almost seems sacrilegious to trip musical diva-darling Beyonce over the mixers to remodel one of the world’s music royalty. True, her tunes may have been reworked more times than the faces of the cast of Jersey Shore, but, to date the more commercial mixes have been tastefully done while preserving the unique character that Beyonce brings to a melody.
This Friday, February 24, The Active Space in Brooklyn, NYC will open their latest exhibition “Dreaming Without Sleeping” featuring the work of Criminy Johnson. The show allows viewers to glimpse the artist’s view of our waking world: a bent, slightly pessimistic and occasionally hostile place populated by animals and people who are often reluctant to be interrupted by the viewer.
I am infatuated with the 80′s. The culture, the music, the art, everything seemed well, better. But the 90′s had a lot of awesomeness that I forget to give it credit for. Take for instance The Cranberries. Fader Lima, a self professed 90′s lover, looks forward while looking back and covers The Cranberries’ track “Zombie.”
Welcome to the estranged metropolis we’ve come to call Atlanta, Georgia, the heart and soul of the Dirty South. Atlanta is a city in which only those who reside can try to personify, and truthfully, most of us have just about given up. We dwell in a self-appointed “community” where fine wine and prime rib is as common as sweet yams and fried okra, where a BMW drives high on your left and a ’77 Chevelle rides low on your right. In this extremist-defined population, we compromise and classify through our art: the makers, the players, the hustlers, and the good ole’ audience. Because here, if you’re not somebody, then you’re nobody. When mass appeal becomes irrelevant and art is enjoyed for the shameless sake of enjoyment, the people will congregate and decide the next representers of this mecca of manifold men, also known as Atlanta, Georgia.
“Often the Muse will not respond to direct and logical requests. She must be lured in with the playful and gentle” – Jill Badonsky
Good music speaks volumes… rather than impose analysis, step back and expose linguistic artistry… why critique that which has achieved perfection at its own masterful conception… listen, look, and linger in fantastic rhythmic reality: lyrically speaking
Russian artist Rinat Shingareev‘s Facebook page proudly proclaims he’s the “best artist alive.” I know, I know, you’ve heard that before. Rinat may or may not be the best, especially when legends like Ron English, Banksy and Kehinde Wiley are still well, alive and very productive. But the 25-year old artist, is on to something very extraordinary.
How long has it been since you’ve been able to listen to a mixtape from start to finish? For me, I feel like its been, damn, I honestly can’t remember now that I am forcing myself to think. I usually have my favorite cuts but never the project as a whole. Even Section.80. So when I say I am grateful to have come across this new project from this new guy, Judah Akeem, is an understatement. I have been listening to this project to it’s entirety since Kendrick put me on to him. From “The Medium” ( the smooth intro to Realizing Potential) to the last cut, “Farewell” feat Flingstress.
Slang words come and go like pop songs. Because the minute something becomes a meme for the sake of hits, it’s a wrap for it’s “authenticity” factor. For every enduring term like “cool” or “dope” there’s an embarrassing “bling, bling” or “bootylicious” to remind of us how stupid we can be. Now I don’t Belieb everything I read, but when Justin Bieber is at the forefront of anything, let alone a term popularized by our Hip-Hop Leviathans, I think it’s time for something else.
All I hear is hustle, hustle hard and don’t sleep and grind harder. You’d think I was surrounded by robots. I refuse to believe that these mantras of sleepless nights are anything more than boasts. Even the hardest working people start to yawn and get heavy eyes, right? I think so. I mean, who can just endlessly and endlessly keep on working without ever putting head to pillow? More importantly, would their work even be as great if they didn’t get their eight to ten hours? I did some research in my record collection, and came across a few musical highlights that praise the cousin to death in some glorious ways. I made a playlist, took a nap, and came up with my top five favorites songs dedicated to slumber.
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Explore visual relations. Make whole that which lies in-between eyes. Shoot, shoot and re-shoot until it’s right. This is the city of San Francisco remixed. On a Mission, in the district, photographer Germán Walteros captures the hustle of the city that knows how.
