Moment of Truth

This is not a Throwback. It just happens to be Thursday.  And my heart is heavy with the loss of yet another legend.  Keith "GURU" Elam is gone from this earth.  From Hip-Hop.  From us.  When I heard the news, I just sat back in my chair and read the words repeatedly, trying to ingest and process what I was seeing.  I knew he was not well.  When I first wrote about his coma scare a month ago, I was hedging my bets and hoping for the best in terms of his recovery.  To hear that he passed away as a result of cancer hit home for me.  Read: Not close to home.  It hit home.  Having lost my own mother to the same affliction, I can tell you that no amount of knowing can emotionally prep you for the loss; no matter how eventual you make it out to be in your head.

I grew up with Guru.  Granted, I might not have literally come up with him, but I listened to enough Gang Starr coming up to be sincerely shocked and saddened by his death.  1989.  Manifest.  1991. Check the Technique. These songs reached me in a way that most didn't.  You see, I grew up in a household that emanated  jazz from the floorboards and walls.  What I heard from them was pure music that just happened to be Hip-Hop.  The combination of Guru's lyrical talent and DJ Premier's signature beats was like nothing that ever came before it.  And on the real, there's been nothing like it ever since.  Think about it.  You know a Primo track when you hear one- but none of them sound similar.  No small feat.  As far as Guru, you'd be hard pressed to find an emcee with such a monotone voice that kept you riveted on his rhymes- and he did it for the most part using little profanity, if any.  How many rappers can you say that about?  His vocabulary, eloquence and capacity for knowledge could damn near fill the Grand Canyon.

When I was in Chicago a while back, I caught Monie Love's  backspin show on Sirius Satellite.  She spoke about his illness and kept it a hundred about not knowing all the details but wished him the best.  She said she spoke to Premier about his being kept in the dark about Guru and his health.  And this is why I love Monie.  She asked the burning question that I feel most true heads were asking.  Who the hell is Solar and what gives him the right to stage his own lock-out from Guru? When I read the alleged final letter that was penned, singling out Premier to not do any tributes- it just didn't sit well with me.   I don't care how much dude defends it.  Who knows?  Only Primo and Guru really know what caused their fallout and perhaps Solar is just an innocent party trying to do right by a dearly departed friend.  But at the end of the day, I'm looking at this new jack like ' Who the eff is you?'  To keep family and friends at bay hardly seems like a noble act to me.  But that's just my opinion.  I know this much- and Mr. Cee echoed my sentiments surrounding this on his show this past Tuesday: Don't let anyone tell you that you cannot love someone and mourn for them how you see fit.  It is your birthright to feel a loss and express that in a manner which is conducive to healing.

Love and respect to Gifted Unlimited Rhymes Universal. You still shine. Bright. One Love.

Now, Who's Gonna Take the Weight?

Strapped but lovable...and Unforgettable

Apache is gone. I don't know where to start. I'm still in shock, really. One of the most slept on emcees to ever do it has been confirmed dead today. I'll say this much; his calm voice and laid back delivery stood out. The way he broke down the kind of woman he wanted at his side will forever be the Tough Girl anthem for those who lived it. When it first dropped, This Bug bumped that joint as if it was written for yours truly. Finally there was a song that heralded someone other than the "girly girls". From the Newports to the bandanna tied around my curls, he hit the nail on the head. Always known to be the firecracker of my crew, Gangsta Bitch seemed to come along and solidify an entire persona and lifestyle for females such as myself. It takes a distinguished individual to speak pleasantly about what most would consider unpleasant. He spoke with a respect and clipped adoration about a woman who was just as thorough as he was- but no less a lady. He painted a perfect picture. I felt him on that.

Now, I won't front like I kept up with Apache's career when I didn't. Like too many real emcees in the game for that time, he fell by the wayside. But true heads never forgot him. He is part of the Golden Era of Hip-Hop that cultivated legends sixteen bars at a time. It's because of him I saw myself grow from a rough-around-the edges, always ready for whatever, box cutter toting little girl to a mature young lady who learned how to put the L down and pick her battles. And to this day, when I hear that song- the gangsta bitch in me smiles and shakes her head at a precious and priceless time gone by. It remains one of my all time favorites. Apache will be missed. My respects and condolences go out to his family, friends and The Flavor Unit. I know we heard him say that He Ain't Shit, but nothing was further from the truth. 'Pour a little bit out for the brother that ain't here.'

Fantastic Indeed...

Dude was cool. A bit strange though. Weird, if you may. An enigma even. Now that I reflect on it I could sense that his spirit was exhausted or maybe frustrated like he was over his Earth visit and ready for the next chamber. Even then his days were numbered. But aren't all of ours. Bless Baatin! - via Facebook

There's always one in the group. The one who is different. Just slightly off center. They can't help but stand out. When I heard about Baatin from Slum Village passing away, I immediately thought of my favorite line of his from Fall In Love. "F*ck this rap sh*t. I listen to classical." It seemed to embody how removed he was from all things worldly or tangible. He had a Hip-Hop soul... and his wasn't for sale. It's most apparent in the video for Tainted. It saddens me that he battled with demons of a mental sort. But I've always said that most genius is touched with a bit of madness. I truly believe those who appear troubled or unstable simply operate on a different frequency than most of us. I remember learning that he left SV to concentrate on getting healthier- and in the interim the group wasn't the same without him. They were missing something. His eccentric and honest delivery, his trademark turban, his refusal to assimilate to the industry bullshit. Without him, Slum Village became average to me. To first lose J Dilla and then Baatin must be an incredible loss to the remaining group members. My heart goes out to them. A loss in the Hop Hop world is felt tremendously because of how important true contributions are. Like the GZA said, "This language is so captivating...When we lose a rap n*gga, the news is devastating." The beginning quote is by one of my old childhood friends who had the honor of working with Baatin some years ago. It was so genuine that I had to repost it. None of us are promised another day here and I don't believe our work is done when the spirit goes back to the essence. It's just that it can no longer be housed in the body when it's time to move on. Perhaps Baatin knew just when that new journey was to begin in another world. At least he left the earthlings with some incredible music. I'll miss him.


Ay, it's like a ritual
You been invited. Let the mortal body stimulate the place
With the grace, nevertheless, I stress
Let the music put a smile on your face
As for the ritual, when it comes to spiritual excellence
You know I always leave you with the taste.
I know you like it hard to the core.
That's what you ask for, you achin' for the best
Hurtin' like a sore. It's like a ritual.
Conversation with the Most High make you wanna cry.
I wonder why, you wanna get to paradise
But that itty bitty part of you don't wanna die.
So pay attention to my word, cuz it's the truth.
Meditation ease the mind, and brings the youth
It's like a verse you could never read out of a book.
Droppin' the line in your mind like a fish hook.
Word is birth, yo I do it till the break of day
Pay attention to your art, never go astray.
Word is bond. - Thelonious by Common ft. Slum Village

Ya'll Gon' Make Him Lose His Mind

(Sigh) Where do I begin? It's 17 days into the new year and DMX is scoffing at the idea of wearing pink prison issued underthings and socks. He finds it "ridiculous". Looking soft should really be the least of his worries. If I were him, I'd be trying to figure out what wrong turn I made that landed me in an Arizona big house. I've seen his most recent interview. He doesn't seem to know where he went wrong, either. It's crazy because I look at him now and he's just plain ole Earl Simmons to me. All of that growling bravado is gone. At this point, he just seems lost and truthfully a little bugged out. He reminds me of the dude from around the way back in the day that could just never get right. You'd hear about him robbing a Blockbuster or something , get locked up, come home and then go right back in for doing something even more foolish. Wash. Rinse. Repeat cycle. Yeah, that guy. It's actually sort of heartbreaking. All I know is that he's the same dude that went to JFK airport to carjack somebody by stating that he was a 'government agent'. C'mon now, DMX may look like a lot of things, but a federal agent of any denomination sure ain't one of 'em. Unlike one of his previous videos, that was no case of mistaken identity. He did it. I can't call it- but it sounded like some real "crackish" behavior to me. So let's Party Up for DMX since he's busy decrying the injustice of having to wear what should be tightie-whities but are now an emasculating shade of Cherry Blossom. I just know he's barking at somebody for that shit. Now would be a good time for Cam'ron to send DMX a kite and let the god know that real dudes can rock the shit outta some pink, Fam! Killah...

Flash the Message. Forte's Out There.

This Bug was ecstatic to learn that John Forte had his 14 year sentence commuted by George Bush. Technically, he won't be out until December 22nd, but that's enough to make me do the happy dance. It's about damn time Dubaya did something worthwhile before he doh-si-dohs his silly ass back to his Texas ranch. This is a just a drop in the bucket when you consider how many brilliant minds are behind bars serving overly harsh sentences without the benefit of a pardon.

As far as Forte goes, I'm hoping that the game treat dat ass a li'l kinder- so there won't be any backsliding into liquid Yayo. He should start anew and cut off Carly Simon. Later for her. To me, she was his biggest advocate because she knew damn well some of that stash was hers. Oh, and if anyone runs into him, let him know he is more than welcome to eat mangoes in Trinidad with me instead of attorneys. Nah, seriously though- I wish him the best due to the challenges that will come along with his freshly granted freedom. I'm wise enough to know it won't be an easy road.


Without further ado, my favorite verse from Mr. Forte...



Just one more thing to be thankful for on Turkey Day. Yessiree.