Guns and Records

I’ve been spinning records in front of people for about 4-5 years now.  When I say in front of people, I mean house parties, weddings, clubs, etc.  I’m primarily a hip-hop DJ, and also incorporate reggae, rock, Baltimore club, and b-boy breaks into my sets as well.  The crowds I play for are pretty mixed as far as race, age, and sex go.  Here’s the story of how it all started:

Music’s been a part of my life since I was just a kid.  My mom was constantly playing records in the house.  Since we didn’t have cable, and didn’t get any kind of video game system until long after every other kid, my mom would put records on and sing along to them.  I began to learn the “Hair” and “Jesus Christ Superstar”, and was singing Bill Withers while my friends were playing with Lincoln Logs.  Then, a few years later, I was introduced to Rap music.  This was before the culture of Hip-hop was born.  There was just Rap.

I couldn’t get enough Rap.  Run DMC, Eric B and Rakim, Boogie Down Productions, Big Daddy Kane, and Public Enemy were constantly in my tape deck.  I devoured as much beat-oriented music as I could.  Around the same time, I found out about skateboarding.  Skaters were a kind of low-level hoodlums.  We tore up other people’s shit and ran from the cops.  We listened to Hardcore and Rap music.  Both of these genres of music had messages that seemed directed right at me.  Yeah, my mom’s pissing me off.  I hate the government too, Chuck D!  At the time, Dead Kennedys and D.R.I. were just the white KRS-Ones.  I listened to Rap to feel good, and Hardcore when I was angry.  Sometimes the two were interchangeable.

As I got older, hardcore was changing, and so was Rap.  There was now an entire lifestyle associated with Rap called Hip-hop.  I’m sure you all know of the 4 elements: MC’ing, B-boying, Graffitti,  and DJ’ing.  Out of the four elements, I found DJ’ing to be the most appealing.  I had no idea how to even get into being a DJ.  I was too young, and too poor.  There were still great artists in Hip-hop, and I was still drawn to the intelligent Rap like A Tribe Called Quest, De La Soul, Black Sheep, and Pete Rock  & C.L. Smooth.

Fast forward to New Jersey circa 1997.  I was perusing the internet one night, and I found a New Year’s Eve mix by Fatboy Slim.  As I heard the opening buzzsaw notes of Armand Van Helden’s “Necessary Evil”, I was blown away.   I went out and bought everything I could find by Fatboy, the Chemical Brothers, and especially Daft Punk.  I was still without the means for purchasing any DJ equipment, but I had new inspiration.

By the time I moved to Texas, I was certain I could save enough to get some ‘tables and a mixer.  I found a bunch of local record shops and met some DJs.  They gave me advice and told me to search pawn shops and the newspaper for equipment.  Finally, I found some pretty crappy used tables and a mixer at a pawn shop for $250.  I started buying records off of other DJs and used record shops.   The more I practiced, I began to realize that I didn’t suck at this.  I wasn’t anywhere near good, but I found myself mixing house records and not completely fucking it up.  As I gained confidence, some friends let me set up my gear in their living rooms and play during their parties.  I went mostly unnoticed, but at that time, it was OK.  That meant that I wasn’t awful enough to draw attention, either.  Where this was going, I didn’t know.  What I DID know was it made me really happy.

As I shopped for records in actual record stores (and not garage sales), I found that record companies had been still producing Hip-hop music on vinyl.  I had no idea.  For every 5 house records I bought, I’d pick up one Rap record.  I started searching Ebay too, and was amazed to find that I could get some of my favorite albums and singles from back in the day.  Soon, I would pick up 5 Rap records to one House record.  Then I stopped buying House altogether.  I concentrated all of my efforts in practicing being a Hip-hop DJ.

One day, my brother told me that there was a bar in town that had some turntables set up and allowed people to come in and mix for 30 minutes at a time on Monday nights.  I told him that I wasn’t interested (mostly due to me being scared to death to perform in front of people).  Then, one of our mutual friends wanted to have a birthday party.  My brother suggested the bar that had “Open Turntable Night”, except this would be a Saturday night.   He talked to the bar’s owner, and got the guy to allow me to spin records during the party.  For some reason, the bar wasn’t busy that night, so he said OK.   I played that night , and impressed the owner so much that he offered me Saturday nights from then on.  I’ve been there ever since.    That was 3 years ago.

I make a decent side-living from the gig, and have made a shitload of friends playing the music that I love.  I’ve had a lot of offers to play in other clubs (and have taken one of them, only to leave the gig 6 months later), but find that the combination of a regular day job along with a weekend gig  is perfect for me.  I don’t get sucked into the DJ lifestyle of only seeing people after 5pm every day, and never having weekends free.  Our bar’s been bought by new younger owners, and things are looking up even further now.   Sure, I’ve got to deal with drunken idiots every week requesting shitty mainstream music, but it comes along with the territory.

If you’re interested in becoming a DJ, go buy some shitty used equipment and get good on it.  If you can be good on crap equipment, then you can be good on anything.  First and foremost, LEARN TO MIX WELL.  Scratching and trickery is just icing on the tasty cake made of good mixes.  A good DJ is a good mixer first, and a scratch DJ second.

Any questions, just comment below.

DJ Shadow (a.k.a. Josh Davis) released his new album, “The Outsider”, on September 18th of last year. Every review I’ve read on this album has been awful. I feel like I should review it from the point of view of a DJ Shadow fan.

If you haven’t guessed from my post title, I love Shadow. For those of you who still don’t know who DJ Shadow is, let me tell you. DJ Shadow got his start in the Bay area of California and, like most DJs, began playing house parties and making mixtapes for friends. After a while, he caught the attention of James Lavelle and they formed U.N.K.L.E. He toured in England, where the two were immensely popular, and began recording his first solo album, “Endtroducing”.

“Endtroducing” was released in 1994, to critical acclaim. Shadow’s sound was like nothing that American audiences had heard before. Mostly “trip-hop”, or slowed down hip-hop beats with sampled vocals and instruments throughout, “Endtroducing” blew minds. It was seven years before fans would get a follow-up album.

“The Private Press” gave Shadow fans more of what they loved about “Endtroducing”. Again, mostly slow and laid back, it was another album that could get heads nodding or could get people laid. There was only one track with live vocals, and it was too quirky to get any sort of radio play. As a matter of fact, I can’t think of one time that Shadow’s EVER had radio play (”The Outsider” included).

Five years later, we were given “The Outsider”.

It would seem that DJ Shadow’s finally had enough with 75bpm. “All over the place” doesn’t even come close to describing the sound on his newest release. An overwhelming majority of the songs have live vocals, whether from well known rappers like David Banner or KeakDaSneak, or from European artists like Cris James. Shadow even directs a live band on “This Time (I’m Gonna Try It My Way)”- a loungy-funk jam reminiscent of Marvin Gaye if he was white.

Personally, I couldn’t be happier with “The Outsider”. DJ Shadow himself has stated that he’s getting tired of the same-old-same-old. “The Outsider” couldn’t be further from “Entroducing”. Even though there are some slower tracks on his new album, they’re nothing like anything he’s done before. Hearing Q-Tip over a Shadow beat may have just made my year.

Anyway, go get everything you can find by DJ Shadow. Once you do, thank me here.

I bought a gun yesterday.

I had just finished serving my county by sitting in a Jury Holding Room for 5 hours, and felt like buying something. My girlfriend had just sold her 9mm Taurus and had been drooling over my SigSauer .40. I told her she could have my semi-auto, because I was getting a revolver, dammit.

Two hours and two pawn shops later, here it is. It’s a Smith and Wesson Model 28-2 Highway Patrolman in .357magnum. I couldn’t be happier with it. I haven’t shot it yet, but I’ll let you know when I do.

Here it is on my cleaning mat:

Propped up:

Down the back of my pants:

And gratuitous money shot with ammo:

And edited for new grips:

The old saying still applies here:

“You know you’re getting old when new music all starts to sound the same.”

I’m sitting here listening to Led Zeppelin’s “BBC Sessions”, and I almost started to cry a couple of times.  Not because the music moved me to tears (even though a Zep song has done that before), but because I know I’ll never hear anything like it again.  When’s the last time you heard a voice like Robert Plant’s in a new band?  Talent like Jimmy Page’s?  Fucking gone.

Don’t misread what I’ve written, there are some great musicians out there (Mike Patton, Tool, Primus, Fishbone).  Goddamn are they hard to find, though.  Faith No More’s broken up, Primus’ last couple of albums have kinda blown, and I think Fishbone’s doing opening slots for bands like Nickelback and Train.  Tool is my last great hope.  I hope they keep it going into their 60s, so I can still give them my money.

Hip-hop is even worse.  I can remember a time when hip-hop had an overwhelming majority of good music, and a few crap albums floating around on the edge.  Most people call this time the “Golden Age of Hip-Hop” when groups like Eric B and Rakim, Public Enemy, A Tribe Called Quest, and Boogie Down Productions reigned.  Then, the West Coast got involved and a few years later, the genre had gone entirely the other way.  Now, there’s an overwhelmlingly huge pile of crap albums released every year, with a few good albums floating around the edge.  These are called “underground”.  Look for them.

Finding new and interesting music is a fucking chore.  Usually, you hear about a good new band from a friend or on a specialized internet blog site that has 10 readers (like this one).  A lot of the time, the new and interesting music is some guy playing the pan flute with his asshole.  But once in a while, that gem shines through and you realize all of the searching has finally payed off.

Keep looking for good new music.  Support the bands and groups you like, and tell people about them.  Even if 99 out of 100 people tell you to fuck off, one of them will get it and you’ll help your favorite band to get a new fan.

There’s a woman I know who is a lesbian. She likes women, and only women- as far as I know. She doesn’t live her life as a lesbian, but as a woman who likes women. At the time of our last meeting, she didn’t have one peice of rainbow paraphenalia, one rainbow sticker on her car, and hadn’t been to a single “Gay Pride Event”. Not because she was afraid to do any of these things, but because she just didn’t care to broadcast it. Why can’t all gay people be like her?

I’ve tried to understand where the gay community is coming from. You’ve been opressed into hiding who you like to sleep with your whole life until you “came out”, and now you want to show the world what you’ve been hiding. No one cares. Join a support group or something, for Christ’s sake. I don’t want to be bombarded with your sexual preference while I’m driving to work. No one I pass on the highway would know that I’m heterosexual unless they saw me banging my girlfriend. Let’s keep it that way.

The same goes for you, soccer moms. This new trend of the stickers with your kid’s name and number and their sport of choice on your rear window is fucking stupid. Why did you do that? Is “scrapbooking” (you know, that moronic industry created by bored housewives to make their day seem meaningful) getting old? Fuck your kid. I hated kids to begin with, and now I’ve got a particular kid to hate now. My prayers are now directed at your kid’s team losing terribly in whatever sport they choose, and have their dreams crushed. Don’t worry, they’ll still get some kind of fucking trophy anyway. See how childhood is becoming more and more like the special olympics? Your kids are now emotional retards. Congratulations. What’s next, “My kid took his first steps today!” sticker? I hope your children grow up to become drug addicts that won’t move out of your house, just to prove that your idea of childraising (enrolling your child in as many extracurricular activities as possible) came back to bite your dumb jogging-pants-wrapped ass.

See a trend here?

Let’s get into the GUNS portion of “guns and records”.

If you’ve read the “about” portion of this website, then you’d already know that I like guns. Everything from military surplus (milsurp) rifles and pistols, to assault rifles, and even the absurdly large “hunting pistols” like the Smith and Wesson .500 magnum.

As a kid growing up before Columbine, boys were directly marketed to by toy companies flaunting cap guns, little green army men, and the greatest toy of all: G.I. Joe. We could fight our own imaginary battles against the forces of evil right there on the living room carpet (or even the alleys and streets of our neighborhood with the smell of burning paper and powder wafting up from the little replica .38 special cap revolvers). Guns were this super-cool tool to be used against the tyranny of COBRA. YO, JOE!

Look back at all of the most popular shows: Gunsmoke, The Rifleman, Bonanza, Starsky and Hutch, Streets of San Francisco, A-Team. All of these shows were aimed at a male audience. They all had lines of merchandise that could be purchased for kids so that they could pretend they were their favorite TV hero. Little sixguns with fake leather holsters. A-Team brand 1/2-scale Ruger Mini-14s. It was OK to have toy guns, knives, plastic handcuffs and the like, because there wasn’t any risk of these kids getting ahold of a gun and taking it to school to end some bully’s life.

Living in New Jersey for a while and being married to a “there’s no way you’ll bring a gun into this house” type of woman put any interest in guns in the back of my mind. Once I left Jersey (and that woman) and moved to Texas, I finally had a chance to explore this gun thing a little bit. People were a little bit less afraid of guns here, and there are at least 8-10 gun shows a year in the DFW area. Without spending a dime, I could fill my brain with info about being a gun owner. I went to these gun shows and talked to the vendors about what might be the best way to get into this extremely expensive hobby. I knew I wanted something to defend my home with, and I still had to convince my current girlfriend that guns were “OK”.

I finally came home from a gun show $700 poorer and a 9mm pistol for her, and a 12gauge shotgun for me. That’s where it began.

I then poured myself into the internet, finding message boards and forums not only about the two new firearms that I had purchased (and how to modify them), but about the newfound responsiblility I had. The local gun range has taken a lot of my money in ammo and range fees, which have been put to good use. My girl has become a more-than-competent shot, and has lost a lot of the uneasiness about firearms. I’ve taken many people (who have never shot a gun before in their life) to the range to help educate them about guns and their lack of evil.

I’m not a member of the NRA, and don’t really want to be. Still, the issue of gun control drives me fucking nuts. I’ll get into that another time.

Anyway, I now own two pistols and a shotgun. The original 9mm I bought at the gun show has been sold off and replaced with a .357magnum revolver, and a SigSauer p226 in .40S&W has joined the family. Will these be all I’ll ever need? Who knows. There are a lot of people I know that say you can never have enough guns. On the opposite end of the spectrum, I know a bunch of people who say that even one is too many. I’ll most likely get another when I get my Concealed Handgun Liscence, but that’s in the future.

Like with bass fishing and a million other hobbies I’ve had, this one might fade away and I’ll take up something else. This one seems like way too much fun to just let it go.

If you haven’t ever shot a gun, then find someone that has one and ask them if they’ll take you shooting. Just be safe and smart, and you’ll have one of the best times you’ve ever had.

I went to Potbelly today with my girlfriend for a little lunch. I ordered the ham and swiss with some mustard and various vegetables. I even purchased one of their “deli pickles” which I’ll get into later. When I read the menu of sandwiches, I failed to notice the “served warm” part. I had read, “warm bread”. Silly me. When I retreived my paper-wrapped lunch, it was warm in my hand. I then realized I had made a mistake.

Let me fill you in on my eating habits, that way you’ll understand my frustration during the above transaction. I eat the same shit all of the time. If I go to a Mexican restaurant, there are two items on the menu I’ll order (tacos or chimichanga- maybe a burrito if I’m feeling wacky). Chinese? Chicken with broccoli, please. Seafood restaurant? Good luck. This drives my girlfriend, brother, and just about anyone else fucking crazy when they go out to eat with me.

“Why don’t you try something different?”

“Because it’s my meal. I want what I want.”

“That’s so boring.”

That’s me. Boring, picky eater. The list of things I’ll eat is probably shorter than the list of things I won’t eat. I spent my whole childhood with an experimental chef as a mother. Remember the health food craze in the 80s? I remember it well. Tofu, brown rice, vegetarianism, etc. One night, I sat at the dinner table until about 3 am because I wouldn’t eat a quiche my mom had made. It wasn’t until she had gotten up to use the bathroom that she remembered I was still sitting there and sent me to bed. The same quiche was served to me a few hours later for breakfast. I went hungry that day. This is probably where my pickiness began. Where most kids learned variety is good, and one should try different things is where I learned that as an adult I can eat whatever the fuck I want.

Cut to me leaving the sandwich “shoppe” pissed with a toasted sandwich. Having spent many years in New Jersey (where, in my opinion, the best sandwiches are made) has made me enjoy giant, non-toasted sub sandwiches. Companies began toasting sandwiches to make themselves seem different than “the other sandwich chain”- Subway. Don’t even get me started on that fucking abortion of a sandwich joint. Fuck Subway for life. Even Subway has begun to toast their awful garbage they call sandwiches.

Anyway, I ate the toasted sandwich. It wasn’t so bad that it was inedible, but wasn’t anywhere near good. Actually, it probably wouldn’t have been half bad untoasted. Their pickle, on the other hand was another story. Imagine a soggy cucumber. It smelled like a pickle, but tasted like it had a few more days worth of soaking to do. All in all, a disappointing lunch.

My applause for all of you who try new things. Good for you. You’re the type of people who others enjoy dining with. You don’t have a short list of restaurants that you’ll eat at. You haven’t made someone feel bad at Thanksgiving because you only ate turkey and mashed potatoes. I’ll be sitting over here in the corner with my Kraft macaroni and cheese and tacos perfectly happy.