December 2007
Thursday, December 6th, 2007

…and what is the MDA Senior Management Rap?

All I know is its some company from Singapore’s upper echelons starring in a relatively expensive looking rap video, with a hook lifted from a classic KRS joint, and a beat “inspired” by the good Dr Dre.

A blogger from Singapore writes,

“I don’t know who is KRS-One. But saw this video clip on one of the forum. I’m sure the chorus sound familiar to you. I bet that horrible rap [MDA's] is still repeating itself in your head… don’t worry. This video clip is by a professional rapper. Although I don’t really know how to enjoy rap music, but it sounds a lot better that the MDA rap. (I want to say that there can’t be anything worst than the MDA rap. But I’m always afraid that another civil service group will proof me wrong)”

Well I find it rather charming!

How long before UK companies take heed and start releasing rap videos instead of as well as adverts? 400,000 views on Youtube is not to be sniffed at. And its not like most rap videos aren’t adverts for something, anyway.

Apart from Prisoner Cell Block P’s new joint, which is awesome, and seemingly does nothing but let us know that P is cotdamn NUTS in the FACE. Dude splits some cracka ass cracka’s wig with a cotdamn TEEVEE SON! OMFG DOT COM!

— Thursday, December 6th, 2007

Thursday, December 6th, 2007

Check it out! Snoop takes his Sexual Eruption Sensual Seduction to TV’s Ellen! With full band, including DJ Quik and an other enthusiastic Battlecat on decks! The stuff is bananas!

— Thursday, December 6th, 2007

Tuesday, December 4th, 2007

Rest in peace Pimp C.


— Tuesday, December 4th, 2007

Tuesday, December 4th, 2007

From PlayLouder:

Morrissey Fights Back!
Delicious diatribe against the NME
‘Morrissey Fights Back!’ by luke.turner
04 Dec 2007

Morrissey has issued a delightfully written statement responding to the current hoo-ha over last week’s NME cover feature, in which he attempts to give his side of the interview, and has a pop at what he sees as the decline of the magazine. He doesn’t exactly address all the accusations levelled at him, but it’s a terrific read anyway, which I’ve reprinted in full below for your delectation and delight:

“I grew up a chanting believer in the New Musical Express. Last week however, I was the victim of the magazine’s agenda to cook up a sensational story.

On Friday of last week I issued writs against the NME (New Musical Express) and its editor Conor McNicholas as I believe they have deliberately tried to characterise me as a racist in a recent interview I gave them in order to boost their dwindling circulation.

I abhor racism and oppression or cruelty of any kind and will not let this pass without being absolutely clear and emphatic with regard to what my position is.

Racism is beyond common sense and I believe it has no place in our society.

To anyone who has shown or felt any interest in my music in recent times, you know my feelings on the subject and I am writing this to apologize unreservedly for granting an interview to the NME. I had no reason whatsoever to assume that they could be anything other than devious, truculent and unreliable. In the event, they have proven to be all three.

The NME have, in the past, offered me their “Godlike Genius Award” and I had politely refused. With the Tim Jonze inteview, the Award was offered once again, this time with the added request that I headline their forthcoming awards concert at the O2 Arena, and once again I declined it. This is nothing personal against the NME, although the distressing article would suggest the editor took it as such. My own view is that award ceremonies in pop music are dreadful to witness and are simply away of the industry warning the artist “see how much you need us” – and, yes, the ‘new’ NME is very much integrated into the industry, whereas, deep in the magazine’s empirical history, the New Musical Express was a propelling force that answered to no one. It led the way by the quality of its writers – Paul Morley, Julie Burchill, Paul du Noyer, Charles Shaar Murray, Nick Kent, Ian Penman, Miles – who would write more words than the articles demanded, and whose views saved some of us, and who pulled us all away from the electrifying boredom of everything and anything that represented the industry. As a consequence the chanting believers of the NME could not bear to miss a single issue; the torrential fluency of its writers left almost no space between words, and the NME became a culture in itself, whereas Melody Maker or Sounds just didn’t.

Into the 90s, the NME’s discernment and polish became faded nobility, and there it died – but better dead than worn away. The wit imitated by the 90s understudies of Morley and Burchill assumed nastiness to be greatness, and were thus rewarded. But nastiness isn’t wit and no writers from the 90s NME survive. Even with sarcasm, irony and innuendo there is an art, of sorts. Now deep in the bosom of time, it is the greatness of the NME’s history on which the ‘new’ NME assumes its relevance.

It is on the backs of writers such as Morley, Burchill, Kent and Shaar Murray that the ‘new’ NME hitches its mule-cart. But the stalled views of the ‘new’ NME sag, and readers have been driven away by a magazine with no insides. The narrow cast of repeated subjects sets off the agony, a mesmerizing mess of very brief and dispassionate articles unable to make thought evolve; a marooned editor who holds the divine right to censor any views that clash with his own.

The editorial treatment given to my present interview with the ‘new’ NME is the latest variation on an old theme, but like a pre-dawn rampage, the effects of the interview have been meticulously considered with obvious intentions. It is true that the magazine is ailing badly in the marketplace, but Conor doesn’t understand how the relentless stream of “cheers mate, got pissed last night, ha ha” interviews that clutter every single issue of the ‘new’ NME are simply not interesting to those of us who have no trouble standing upright. Strangely enough, my own name is the only one featured in the ‘new’ NME that links their present with the NME’s distant past, therefore a Morrissey interview is an ideal opportunity with which to play the editorial naughtiness game.

This, regrettably, is what has taken place with this most recent interview, which, it need hardly be said, bears no relation in print to the fleshly conversation that took place.

I do not mean to be rude to Tim Jonze, but when I first caught sight of him I assumed that someone had brought their child along to the interview. The runny nose told the whole story. Conor had assured that Tim was their best writer. Talking behind his hands and in endless fidget, Tim accepted every answer I gave him with a schoolgirl giggle, and repeatedly asked me if I was shocked at how little he actually knew about music. I told him that, yes, I was shocked. It was difficult for me to believe that the best writer from the “new” NME had never heard of the song ‘Drive-in Saturday’; I explained that it was by David Bowie, and Tim replied “oh, I don’t know anything about David Bowie.” I wondered how it could be so – how the quality of music journalism in England could have fallen so low that the prime ‘new’ NME writer knew nothing of David Bowie, an artist to whom most relevant British artists are indebted, and one who singlehandedly changed British culture – musically and otherwise.

Tim’s line of questioning advanced with: “What about politics, then … the state of the world?” which, I was forced to assume, was a well-thought-out question. It was from here that the issue of immigration – but not racism – arose.

Me: “If you walk down Knightsbridge you’ll be hard-pressed to hear anyone speaking English.”
Tim: “I don’t think that’s true. You’re beginning to sound like my parents.”
Me: “Well, when did you last walk down Knightsbridge?”
Tim: “Um… Knightsbridge… is that where Harrods is?”

So, Tim was prepared to attack and argue the point without even being clear about where Knightsbridge actually is! The ‘new’ NME strikes again. Oh dear, I thought, not again. I chose to mention Knightsbridge because it had always struck me as one of the most stiffly British spots in London. I am sorry Tim, but you are not yet ready to interview anyone responsibly.

When my comments are printed in the ‘new’ NME they are butchered, redesigned, reordered, chopped, snipped and split in order to make me seem racist and unreasonable. Tim had told me about his friend who did not like the 1987 song ‘Bengali in Platforms’ because the friend had thought the song attacked him on a personal level. I explained to Tim that the song was not about his friend. In print, the ‘new’ NME do not explain this, but attempt to multiply the horror of Tim’s friend by attributing “these people” and “those people” quotes to me – terms I would never use, but are useful to the ‘new’ NME in their Morrissey-is-racist campaign because these terms are only used by people who are cold and indifferent and Thatcherite. All of the people I spoke to Tim about in the interview who are heroes to me and who are Middle Eastern or of other ethnic back grounds were of no interest to either Tim or Conor. Clearly, Tim had been briefed and his agenda was to cook up a sensational story that would give life to the ‘new’ NME as a must-read national if not global shock-horror story. Recalling how Tim asked me to sign some CD covers, I do not blame him entirely.

If Conor can provoke bureaucratic outrage with this Morrissey interview, then he can whip up support for his righteous position as the morally-bound and armoured editor of his protected readership – even though, by remodelling my interview into a multiple horror, Conor has accidentally exposed himself as deceitful, malicious, intolerant and Morrissey-ist – all the ists and isms that he claims to oppose. Uniquely deprived of wisdom, Conor would be repulsed by my vast collection of world cinema films, by my adoration of James Baldwin, my love of Middle Eastern tunings, Kazem al-Saher, Lior Ashkenazi, Maya Angelou, Toni Morrison, and he would be repulsed to recall a quote as printed in his magazine in or around August of this year wherein I said that my ambition was to play concerts in Iran.

My heart sank as Tim Jonze let slip the tell-all editorial directive behind this interview: “it’s Conor’s view that Morrissey thinks black people are OK … but he wouldn’t want one living next door to him.” It was then that I realized the full extent of the setup, and I felt like Bob Hoskins in the final frame of The Long Good Friday as he sits in the back of the wrong getaway car realizing the extent of the conspiratorial slime that now trapped him.

During the interview Tim asked if I would support the Love Music Hate Racism campaign that the NME had just written about and my immediate response was a yes. I had shown my support previously by going to one of their first benefit gigs a few years ago and had met some of their organizers as well – as having signed their statement. Following the interview I asked my manager to get in touch with the NME and to pledge my further support to the campaign as I wanted there to be no ambiguity on where I stood on the subject. This was done in a clear and direct email to Conor McNicholas on the 5th of November which went ignored and last week we found out that it had never even been presented to anyone at the campaign as that would obviously not have suited what we now know to be the NME’s agenda. I am pleased to say that we have now had direct dialogue with Love Music Hate Racism and all of our UK tour advertising in 2008 will carry their logo. We will also be providing space in the venues for them to voice and spread their important message, which I endorse.

Who’s to say what you should or shouldn’t do? The magazine’s publishers, IPC have appointed Conor as the editor of the ‘new’ NME, and there he remains, ready to drag them into expensive legal battles such as the one they now face with me due to Conor’s personal need to mis-state, misreport, misquote, misinterpret, falsify, and incite the bloodthirsty. Here is proof that the ‘new’ NME will twist and pervert the views of any singer or musician who’d dare step into the interview ring. To such artists, I wish them well, but I would advise you to bring your lawyer along to the interview.

My own place, now and forevermore, shall not be with the ‘new’ NME – and how wrong my face even looks on its cover. Of this, I am eternally grateful.”

— Tuesday, December 4th, 2007

Monday, December 3rd, 2007

I hate to say it, but it is The Truth – Ghostface’s Big Doe Rehab LP shits all over Wu-Tang’s 8 Diagrams like a cot-dang Pterodactyl.

BLA-OW!

Not saying the Wu record doesn’t have its moments. That it’s not good. But Tony’s is better. Not only is Ghost better – but the Wu members that pop up on Big Doe go in harder, iller – over better beats – than on 8 Diagrams. Especially Mef. Mef sounds better than he has since The Afterparty – another Ghost LP track.

Trife sounds great on here too. Trife is mad underrated.

OK. So, this Thieving record, right – I’m shooting the sleeve tonight. It dawned on me it would be dope to recreate an iconic album sleeve.

1st idea was the Nevermind one – but I ain’t got a swimming pool I can use and I gotta do it tonight. Hit me with your brilliant ideas!

— Monday, December 3rd, 2007

Saturday, December 1st, 2007

Word, I hate moving houses!

I like unpacking after though. Arranging stuff. I like building shelves. I’m on that right now. Well, right now I’m on break. You dig me!

I got a can of Rio, and that is nice. That shit is still bigger than the other cans – 13.6% Extra Free est. as long as I can remember. When I was like, 8, we’d drive to Safeways in Upper Bangor to do the monthly shop, and if I was lucky I’d get me one of those as a treat.

Who was at that Bizzle show? Damn, that shit banged hard! Marv and Jack’s set was boss, cot DAMN those boys have come on since the Purple Turtle. They did Boom at the end and that Big Dog Westwood was jiving up onstage. Ghetto sprays hard, credit where credit is due. It’s always good to see Skinny, but I could have done with more stuff from his album, that shit was classic. I took Narstie and Littles down, and it was ill to see Narstie bring the house down without even getting onstage. That Brian Harvey-looking cat from N Dubs doing his and Solo’s rhymes was kind of weird.

Me, I never touched that stage and I blew the roof of THREE TIMES, fam. Babylon was straight moshpit, and B had the kids jogging on the spot like Running Man for Police, shit was CRAZY!

So, LP2 is pretty much written – straight ANTHEMS baby – and I’m in pre-production with the legend Stephen Hague. Get to know. That shit won’t be out till second quarter I figure, the way this beast of an industry moves, so what I’m gonna do, oh my good good peoples, is hit you off with, like, a pre-album album/mixtape thing for Xmas. A CD full of shit I can’t clear for mainstream commercial use (samples are a bigger headache by the day) – stuff that missed the last album for reasons of illegality and tone, and stuff I’ve been writing since the last album that just doesn’t fit the vision of the next one. Tear jerkers, bangers, screamers, murderers… Good shit. The record’s gonna be called Thieving – look out for a track with the same name imminently. It goes off to the printers next week, and we’ll start taking pre-orders as soon as the art’s done.

HO HO HO!

Oh, I nearly forgot – I just confirmed a Christmas show. Akira The Don & The Women will support my peoples The Crimea at Bush Hall, London on December 18th. It’s an acoustic show, so I’m getting me a drummer and shit. FIRST!

— Saturday, December 1st, 2007