The Niggy Tardust Experience - Philadelphia, PA

Afro-Punk started as a documentary lived by James Spooner, in which he toured across America looking for people like him — people of color with an admiration for Punk Rock.

Accompanying the DVD release of Afro-Punk was a music compilation, comprised of artists and bands who are viewed as "Black/African American". Six years later, with an overhauled website, a community of thousands, hundreds of artist, four annual festivals deep, and a nationwide tour headlined by Black Stacey, Saul Williams, enter Afro-Punk.

The City of Philadelphia was wet and slightly chilly, but inside the Theatre of the Living Arts the temperature was warm, and the air was electric. Arriving early and walking through the venue, the merch booth was setup and ready to go, a large canvas and bags of paint were off to the right side of the stage in the crowd area, Cx Kidtronik was casually walking about, and a DJ held down the stage, mixing sounds of Hip-Hop, Jungle, and Rock while concert goers patiently awaited the start of the evening.

Everyone but the B-boys, that is. If the party won't start, start your own party. For as long as the grooves were spinning, these guys were the center of attention with their twists, kicks, and jumps. The crowd looked upon the troupe, hands clapping and smiles on their faces, but there was still more to come.

Tchaka Diallo aka Kiko of Krak Attack came out to host the show and introduce the first group — from Houston, TX, American Fangs.

A banner adorned the stage, reminiscent of the Rocky Horror Picture Show logo, the drummer was already on his stool banging away while the rest of the band walked out. AF plays with a need for attention. The energy flows through every member as they make their way around the stage, singing in unison, jumping on monitors, and spitting on the floor. Who can stand still? The drumming will force goers to bounce and nod, while the licks and melodies will cause everyone to let go and enjoy themselves. When frontman, Gus walks on in a light gray shirt, but his shirt looks like it's charcoal gray when he leaves, you have to know that he gave it his all. American Fangs were the standouts of the evening.

Diallo took the stage once again to introduce a new aspect to the show — flatland BMX riders! Jeff and Cooly had the audience in amazement. Tricks landed or not, there was nothing but respect.

The next act came out of Philadelphia, PA. Originally billed as Black Landlord, but for whatever reason, they weren't present, which is unfortunate, because I was looking forward to seeing them perform again. A new band by the name of West Vienna took their place instead. Something about these guys seemed very familiar, and maybe it was because West Vienna is actually Phil Moore Browne! Even though a member or two has been replaced, the feeling was relative. Whether you call them Phil Moore Browne, or you call them West Vienna, both bands are an act you need to see to truly appreciate. WV is not as rowdy as PMB, but they are fun to watch. Punk is alive in Philly, and its name is West Vienna!

Once again, Jeff and Cooly came out to battle. Meanwhile, the painting was coming along nicely.

Rushing back to the stage to see the next act, Saul Williams was seen walking back and forth off to the side. Suddenly, with makeup on his face and feathers in his hair, there he was on a bike. "My band doesn't know I'm down here," he said. Saul had a little chit-chat with the crowd until his band came out in support. The group consisted of a guitar player, a keyboard player, and Cx Kidtronik on an MPC. Niggy Tardust was at the forefront of the stage spouting off his list of poetic, musical, and cultural influences. Amethyst Rockstar was absent, but doing songs from his self titled album, as well as The Inevitable Rise and Liberation of Niggy Tardust, his daughter, Saturn joined him on stage for a few songs, grabbing the microphone from Cx Kidtronik, flailing about in a dance party fashion with her father. The TLA was in full party mode with Williams on stage. If there was any downside to the set, it was that Saul did not perform Act III, Scene II (Shakespeare). Covered in sweat with feathers from his 'do laying scattered on the stage floor, Niggy Tardust has left the building.

The night closed out with Krak Attack performing a few songs. They probably would have fared better, had they gone on before Saul Williams, because a sizeable portion of the audience vacated when Williams left the stage. Krak Attack definitely has the kind of music to give people a reason to act foolishly and cut loose, but the timing was off for that night.

With the concert all wrapped up, it would be a great disservice to call it a show. It was an experience!

Thanks to all involved for a great time!

Sneaker Pimps - Philadelphia

August 8, 2009 in Philadelphia, PA saw the arrival of the Sneaker Pimps, the touring sneaker and Hip-Hop show. I checked it out upon Jon Jon's suggestion. Sneakers are cool, Hip-Hop is great, and I love Philly! Can't lose, right?

It was a recipe for a great evening, as I ran into a handful of people I knew, but didn't know were going. The music was good, but with as many acts as there were performing, each person/group took the stage for about three songs, then made way for the next performer. I didn't have too much of an issue with this, as it allowed for club goers to be exposed to numerous artists without having to sit through 20-30 minute sets if they didn't like the music.

Here's my gripe though: rappers and DJs talk too much. It's one thing to have prepared statements as part of your set, but it's completely different to just sit up on stage rambling on and on about things nobody cares about. The main problem was performers yelling at the crowd for not being into it enough. Biggest offender of that? Elixer and Dice Raw's DJ. Yes, we're in Philly and Dice Raw is from Philly. Yes, Dice Raw has performed with The Roots. No, Dice Raw is not in The Roots. No, The Roots were not in the building. I have a little bit of an issue with people who name-drop in order to hype themselves. But let me state that Dice Raw said he's not a fan of talking, he just wanted to do the show. His DJ was making all the noise.

Here's a kernel of knowledge for all performing artists: if the crowd has no idea who you are, or they didn't show up to see you specifically, don't be surprised if they just watch you and don't "party". If anything, you should be grateful people are watching you.

Despite that, once The Clipse came on, the venue errupted! The brothers interacted with the crowd, shook some hands, threw items out, and had everyone eating out the palms of their hands. The duo played cuts from their previous offerings, including "What Happened to that Boy", a song they were featured on. During the set, they were joined on stage by Philly's own, Ab Liva, and finished out the evening by performing, "Kinda Like a Big Deal". Philly showed The Clipse some love, and The Clipse showed it right back.

A couple of my friends got to meet The Clipse after winning a Verizon Wireless texting battle, but after the show we all met Ab Liva. He's about 5,000 feet tall, but he's a really nice guy. Big ups to him for shaking hands and taking pictures.

Next stop, Minneapolis, MN!

Other standout performers of the evening:

Joya Bravo - Brooklynite who sings, raps, and plays the violin!
Phil Ade - A member of the 368 Music Group. Definitely got the crowd going.
J. Cole - Newest artist on Jay-Z's Roc Nation. People seemed surprised, but his live show is nice, and a lot of people knew his lyrics.

Pheeling Pheverish

The City of Brotherly Love.  Yeah, that’s what they call it, but to those who have ever been there, they may see it differently.  Maybe not.  For those in the sports world, that title couldn’t be further from the truth.

 Philadelphia, the home of the Phightin’ Phils, the Iggles, Sixers, the once-known Broad Street Bullies, the Flyers, and the country’s most iconic sports figure, regardless of his lack of existence, Rocky Balboa.  This is a city full of love for its brothers, but with very little tolerance for opposition.  Call it a hive-minded mentality if you will, but we call it family.

 Even with the celebration of our beloved teams, Philly fans are no strangers to disappointment.  The championships won by our teams can actually be counted on both hands, but one hand for each team (if division and conference titles are to be excluded).

 

A short review of Philadelphia’s history shows that the Eagles last won a title in 1960 (lost title games in 1980 and 2005), the Flyers in 1974 and 1975 (lost title games in 1976, 1980, 1985, 1987, and 1997), the 76ers in 1967 and 1983 (lost title games in 1977, 1980, 1982, and 2001), and the Phillies in 1980 and 2008 (lost titles in 1983 and 1993).

 

In my lifetime I’ve seen the Phillies go to the World Series…and lose.  I’ve witnessed the Sixers go the NBA Championships, win game 1 against the Lakers, then throw the next four games, the Flyers have made it to the Stanley Cup Finals, almost won convincingly, then blew it, and the Eagles went to the Superbowl, led the entire game, then lost by a field goal.  After the Eagles loss, I fell into a slump of depression for a week.  The Philly fans’ dedication runs that strong.

Enter the 2008 Philadelphia Phillies.  

I started this season saying to my father during a phone conversation, “I think this is the year.  I have a good feeling.  I think the Phillies are going to the World Series this year.”  My dad being an older version of me simply replied, “They have to get there first.”  Well, they did.  And they won.  Convincingly.

 I have waited 15 years since the last Series visit, and all my life for a win.  The feeling is inexplicable.  The assumption is that anyone supporting a team in a drought understands the emotion involved in a championship win.

 

The evening before the second half of game 5, members of the Tampa Bay Rays, while staying here in Wilmington, went to one of our local pubs.  The Washington St. Ale House.  I’m not sure if that was a wise decision on their part or not.  The people I met were nice, and some got harassed by a few locals (Philly Phaithful).  All in all, it was a fun and exciting evening.  However, and I mention this once more, I’m not sure if it was wise of them to hit the bar the night prior to a Do or Die evening.

 

In typical celebratory fashion, the night the Phillies won the 2008 World Series, people flooded the streets, fireworks were set off, funs were shot off, drinks were shared, and cars were flipped.  Enter the parade.

 

I rode a school bus up to Philly with my sports league, the Delaware Sports League.  The day started off with a broken down bus (not mine, the other one), drinking at 9:30 am, and urinating in plastic cups and bottles on I-95 en route to the parade (yes, that includes me).  Once we made it into South Philly, we were greeted warmly by our Philadelphia brethren.  Horns were honking, people were screaming, first were pumping, and index fingers were raised to indicate, “We’re number one!”  Hell yes.

 

The second our bus came to a complete halt in the Linc parking lot, the DSL members cleared out with the quickness, linking up along the parking lot fence under I-95, and watered the sports complex vegetation.  Truly a sight to behold, the line included men with beer in their hands, and girls squatting in groups of twos and threes.  Aside from public exposure, the rest of the time in the lot was spent drinking and tossing around a football.

 

Everything else that occurred between our arrival and the Phillies showing up an hour and 20 minutes late can easily be told in pictures…minus more public urination (the lines for the port-a-potties were too long, so lines formed on the backsides of the johns).

 Our day ended with a certain young lady going to relieving herself on her boots, while another young woman dropped her phone on the ground, possibly had it pissed on then, tried persistently to get the device to cease vibrating and actually function properly.  Said young woman later said that her cell phone was now her second dildo.  Yes, she said her phone doubled as a vibrator.  Classy.

 Departure took approximately 45 minutes to reach I-95 from the Linc parking lot (I-95 runs parallel to the sports complexes), but the wait for the trains was much worse, as they were backed up over two hours.  That mob was beyond ridiculous.

 We made it home, and I ended my day with a pepperoni calzone and some hot wings.  Grease makes everything better.  Delicious.

 

Amen.