DJ Chuck Chillout

I got to meet Chuck Chillout the other day when I shot this story for the Times. He was cool as hell. If you ain't down, he got name checked on all kinds of old hip hop records, and broke artists like Public Enemy on his radio show. Legendary. Seems the radio station he works for Kiss FM got closed up. Let's hope Chuck lands on his feet.

Truth and Soul

Maggot hipped some of us to a new documentary about 80's/90's supergroup (whoops) Fishbone that some folks made. They were some weird cats, but for some reason what 6 guys in late 80's LA did- (with too much energy and totally confused about where they belonged and what they were doing there)- resonated like hell with 6 young guys in late 80's suburban Raleigh (who had too much energy and were totally confused about where they belonged and what they were doing there). I can remember the feeling at those Fishbone shows. There was some wild shit. In Wilmington one time Dirty Walt Kibby was singing into a weird looking microphone- upon closer inspection, it turned out to be the FIRST black dildo I ever saw. I remember knowing that I didn't know anything, but that whatever this was, it was for real and it answered that nagging doubt that tormented us and made us ride skateboards and search the cassette wall at Record Bar for answers- that there had to be something else out there.

The years went on and we moved on to other music, other obsessions. But soon after I got to the newspaper in Stockton in 2006, I got assigned to cover a Fishbone show in town. I was psyched. I think I tried to negotiate some kind of backstage shooting access that got shut down. The place was nearly empty. Most of the crowd sat in the theater seats. The Rialto it was not. I tried to feel that same explosion in me, but it wasn't there. I couldn't tell what had changed- if it was me, or the band, or the scene. Or maybe just time. After the first couple of songs, Angelo decided to matters into his own hands. He scaled the seat backs, crawling with the mic until he was face to face with the (lack of) crowd. He screamed at them into the mic. In all those years, his energy had not dimmed a bit. He seemed like he was asking us, begging us for an answer- why had it turned out this way? Why were they just sitting there, and why hadn't his band ever become famous? For all of this effort and all these songs and all those miles, why were they playing to 50 people in a shitty theatre in a nowhere town? And why wasn't I screaming and jumping and going to the end with them? Where had we been, and how did we end up here?

I took some pictures, and they came out in the paper the next day. I didn't have an answer for him.

Somebody Had to Say It…

What's the EV opinion poll on the national movement against banks and the financial services industry? I won't post Ghandi quotes or link to radical or establishment articles about the Occupy movement. This choir don't need preaching to but does anyone wanna comment? I know GSO is kicking off Saturday. I was at Occupy Oakland tonight, it could be over a 1,000 US cities and dozens of countries by the time you read this.

For the last couple weeks and the next few I think Americans are/will be asking and trying to answer some really difficult questions. It's beyond soundbites on all sides.

At this point you are living through/observing/participating in the largest critique (I didn't quite say revolt) against representative democracy and capitalism in your lifetime. Wow.

I have my opinions, you show yours and I'll show mine.

WHITEY IS STILL ON THE MOON

R.I.P. Big time. We're all imperfect, we're all fallible, but Gil's talk outweighed his walk. What else is there to say?