Friday, 27 March 2015

Funk blessings from being colourblind: Rick Hall, Fame Studios & the Muscle Shoals Sound

 I do believe imagination figments and coincidence can't be scapegoated for the outbursts of racial rantings and commentaries which seem to have burst out from their usual high security prison cells. Appearing to stem from the terror works of Isis, the all too numerous murders of unarmed black males at the hands of Police in America, and the channels by which impressionable-aged kids can be led into war zones, we now find ourselves submersed in the dispiriting, frightening and unnerving-to-many subject of race relations and racism.

Understably though, such a topical field carries in its wake a whole host of long standing, well established beefs. Enough beef in fact to make any vegan feel alone on Earth. As an avid appreciator to the stories of a decidedly more open minded nature, I was upbeat to the finding of Muscle Shoals. Perhaps occurring to be a quiet little backwater to the unknowing eye, Muscle Shoals is a small town situated on the Tennessee river in North West Alabama. Indeed 'little backwater' would be correct, but 'quiet' it was not. At least not inside the shell of Fame Recording Studios. 


The work of the venerable Rick Hall, Fame was a factory for some of the funkiest and biggest tracks from the 1960s and 70s. Self-proclaimed colourblind, all-knowing and meticulous to the last, his story is one defined by an indefatigable ability to overcome, rise to greatness, and go down in history. Names like Wilson Pickett, Percy Sledge, Otis Redding, Etta James and Aretha 'no-need-for-a-surname' Franklin, all went through these studios during this era. 

Likened to alchemy, the Muscle Shoals Sound was all the more satisfying and change-instigating under the circumstances from which it was born. With The Confederacy's loss in The American Civil War in 1865, slavery was abolished. But by 1890, following Reconstruction, the implementation of de jure racial segregation had taken root in all public places in the South; the Jim Crow Laws. Destined to legally divide until 1964, Alabama played host to such events as the 'Stand in the Schoolhouse Door' - Govenor of Alabama, George Wallace's defiant literal stand in the entry to the Foster Auditorium at the University of Alabama. All in an attempt to prevent 2 of the highest standard black students from entering to enrole at the University. Vying to uphold his promise of "Segregation now. Segregation tomorrow. Segregation forever." and eventually only stepping aside following the orders of the then President Kennedy. 

With racism still dragging down society in the 21st Century, it's easily conceivable how little white attitudes changed following the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Indeed, in Alabama it'd take an extraordinary brand of courage and free-thinking to stand against the flow and go with integration. Either that, or the rare skin-specific form of colour blindness which Rick Hall possessed. Growing up in Alabama's Freedom Hills, he was born into extreme poverty. Living in a home, set away from the rest of the world, built by his father, where on mud floors he would writhe and thrive on a will to be somebody. Enduring the tragic death of his Brother, who was just 3 years old, and the departure of his Mother, who went on to become a prostitute - this owing to the low standard of living provided by Rick's father, who was a saw miller.


Having gone into partnership for his first recording studio venture, the first track they would cut was 'Steal Away' by Jimmy Hughes. A hit, though Hall would quickly be singled out and let go by his partners, for reasons of being a "workaholic". Now, it beggars belief how many heartbreaking losses one man can endure, but following this was the untimely demise of his wife of just 18 months. Dying in a car accident, which Rick would survive and subsequently, in his own words, would "become a drunk. A bagabon. A tramp." Living out of his car with only his music left, he would return to Muscle Shoals with a vengeance. Fervid in character with an indomitable will, he would first cut 'You Gotta Move On' by Arthur Alexander - a track which would go on to be covered by The Beatles and The Rolling Stones no less. 

With a self-reliant setup he looked to recruit an in-house rhythm section. Made up of local white musicians, Paul Simon of Stax Records is known to have phoned up Al Bell, quoted as saying, "Hey man! I want them same black players that played on 'I'll Take You There'", to which his reply was, "well that can happen, but these guys are mighty pale!". To become known as The Swampers, they were a major factor behind the studios appeal, and the signature Muscle Shoals Sound. Aretha herself was quoted as saying "we just didn't expect them to be as funky, or as greezy as they were." It was these same musicians who would back up for countless black frontmen and women. Among these, local boy Percy Sledge, voice of the iconic 'When A Man Loves A Woman'; seen above during a live performance with a certain left handed guitarist who wouldn't last long in the background.


Such hits soon brought by Wilson Pickett (seen above with The Swampers) and big time Atlantic Records Producer, Jerry Wexler. Forging a great relationship with Hall, the 'Wicked Pickett' would go on to produce funk gold like 'Land of 1000 Dances' - if you don't recognise the name, I guarantee you've heard the intro. Yet Wexler and Hall were destined to clash over perhaps one of the most important tracks Fame ever produced..

As unfathomable as it might seem, after six years with Colombia Records behind her Aretha was experiencing difficulty in making her career take-off. With general consensus attributing this to the mixed and unrefined styles she was given, one trip to Fame Recording Studios was to give Franklin the break she was looking for, and opened the gates for a most legendary of musical careers. Brought down by Jerry Wexler, Franklin, The Swampers and Hall were to record 'I Never Loved A Man The Way I Love You'. Cut within 15-20 minutes, it was to become her first million selling single, and would see the begins of a career which would flourish into a commercial super-power, equalled by few, and outdone by none. 


Yet owing to a verbalised personal grievance of Aretha's then husband, Ted White, a crack was to form. Hall, after more than one or two drinks, made his way to their hotel, to patch things up, but wound up in a physical altercation with White. Thereby causing White and Franklin to fly back to New York. Wexler, in a sly play, was to bring the Swampers to New York to finish recording Franklin's album. The same album which brought 'Respect' to the world, they would go on to record numerous hits together, including 'Think'. 

The Swampers would go on to separate themselves from Rick Hall, opening their own studio in Muscle Shoals; Muscle Shoals Sound Studios. Hall would suffer again with the loss of his father in a tractor accident, though forever remembering their life together which was depicted by Clarence Carter on 'Patches'. Locked in a battle with rival Jerry Wexler, and The Swampers, he would go on to produce names like Etta James. And having released a feature length documentary in 2013, 'Muscle Shoals', you can catch the extended version in its full audio and visual glory. 

Enduring in the extreme. Still producing to this day. A work ethic which he shares with all who reach greatness in their respective professions. But a colourblind and completely racist free attitude shared by virtually nobody in the Deep South during this era. Perhaps in the contemporary age we are too problem fixated, and not solution fixated. However Rick Hall of course was neither; he was Funk fixated, for which we owe him our gratitude.




Monday, 23 March 2015

Rehabilitating the Download Outlaws; Rapper Ryan Leslie's innovation of the Hybrid-Artist

Through Artist empowerment Rap/Hip-Hop & R&B artist, Ryan Leslie, is seeking to rehabilitate 100,000 download Pirateers with an approach which is as much avant-garde as it is independent and labour-intensive.


'Outlaws', 'Junkie's' or 'modern era, land-fairing pirate's of the cyberspace autobahn's'; whichever your preferred title, illegal downloaders have comprehensively lay siege to the once largely impregnable business model of the entertainment industries channels of consumption. Be it due to not wanting to further line the already luxurious silk, hand-stitched pockets of Simon Cowell and Co. Or simply not seeing the logic in paying for something you could take for free, isn't that important. Whatever the driver, music artists of all tiers of popularity, have felt the kickback of these pirates who continue to fiscally devalue the art they produce. 

Solutional efforts are primarily targeting stricter law enforcement and the pursuit of facilitators to such downloading. However, before such a course of action can be ratified, there are two seemingly unnavigable minefields which instil apprehension. Foremost, how do you undertake such a process of prosecuting hundreds of thousands of individuals, under potentially hundreds of different national jurisdictions? And as a stand off to this, what affect will the artist prosecuting the fan have on their future marketability and potential for commercial success? 


With such unnerving obstacles to recouping lost revenues, one man endeavours to independently rehabilitate and recruit his fans, and in the process, overhaul the music industries methodologies. Imagined in the mind's eye standing tall in a blustering gale under grey skies; a caped crusader with the functionally obsolete, yet stylistically paramount black shades of all great rapper's, Ryan Leslie is taking on the issue in a decidedly more mutually beneficial, if a little unorthodox, manner.

Forging a musical career from behind the black and white keys from whence so many greats have stepped, Leslie's indubitable and multifarious virtuosity saw him fulfil the role of a producer and music writer. Producing for the likes of Fabolous, Cassie, Red Café & Booba, this would seem a natural progenitor to a solo career. Although, in a career which has yielded 6 solo albums to date, with a labour intensive work ethic he continues to produce, recently seen with California hot shots YG and Nipsey Hussle.

As an independent in an industry saturated with contracts, legal jargon and a scarce enough availability of get-out clauses that Lil Wayne still cannot escape Cash Money Records, R.Les has defined his success. 100,000 units sold whereby he, or an artist he works with, personally knows each of those 100,000 people. 


The offensive strategy for such a challenge spotlights three converging avenues of fan-rehabilitation. Call the first 'WhatsApp Ave', and remember to be open to new concepts as you approach it. It gleans its hypothetical title from Ryan's publicly shared cell digits, and subsequent place in thousands of loyal fans WhatsApp contacts; or if you prefer, email lists. Derived from the mind of a Harvard graduate of just 19 (yes, we're still talking about Ryan here), he has sought out the inherent loyalty in relationship. Remaining hypothetical then, imagine a situation in which you could communicate briefly once in a while with your favourite artist. Then remember that you only just read it was actually possible.. If Les happens to be your favourite that is. After establishing a rapport akin to that of a friendship with a slight distance, he releases his new album (MZRT, to be released March 2015). But how can the outlaws set sail in their pirate ships in search of an illegal download? You can't steal from friends..from homies..

Shift laterally a couple of blocks and you'll meet with 'Experience Avenue'. An avid proponent of a live performance > studio record hierarchy, and a believer in artists as performers first and foremost, he's a champion of the tour lifestyle. Maintaining the recurring theme of access, and reaping the added impact of a capacity crowd with a tinnitus-inducing speaker system. Catch a stop on his world tour and you'll witness the personal level aspect which defines his hustle. Glimpsing faces and regurgitating the name of opposite-side-of-the-Atlantic Renegades ('Renegades' being his fan base). Conversing with the crowd for views on a track, demonstrating perfect posture seated at his keyboard and laying down the melody before rattling your brain with an energised performance to a self-composed, self-produced instrumental. The albums are outputted to bring you to the concerts, as opposed to the concerts being a way to sell more albums, even if this occurs as a direct result.


Sandwiched between these two is his 5th Avenue; Independence. Facilitator to freedom of action, and from red-tape. A construct conducive to such experimentation, testing of avant-garde theorems and environment to affirm his tautologies. Hence, no longer can you purchase his previous album from iTunes, 'Black Mozart', or from any other retailer for that matter. Access to download can only be granted with a $12 Renegades membership on his personal website. This being a means to create acquaintance, with a similar structure for purchasing the new album, MZRT, being sold solely from the same website. Independence is his gravitational source around which all other foci are birthed and revolve.


From this same central gravitational hub however arises his obstacles to success. Could it be that this hybrid approach will only work at his plane of popularity? And is his degree of independence only facilitated by his broad skill base which spans through all compositional elements of music production, marketing and business acumen? The kind of skills which many label-reliant artists simply won't posess. Even despite such musical proficiency, does this approach contain within it a capability to grow with a growing fan base? And at what point does the personal contact element shift from being labour intensive to simply being impractical? Such a take on change is as much organic as it is hybrid. Maintaining a system by which thousands of wannabe artists are attempting to come up in the industry every day, only scaled-up a few hundred times. 

As a first generation 'hybrid artist' it may appear to be a system that is functional under specific circumstances, but which will not cope well with growth.  However, surely the mind which conceives and believes in ventures through previously only dreamt up solutions is the most powerful, and contains within a capacity for self-assessment and self-correction. Look at Apple; you can bet your last chip that they'll sell millions of their smart watches, but more through beautiful marketing than through product necessity. The likelihood of a perfect product first time out is inconceivable. Beginnings for great minds are always small when compared with their endings. And so we can witness the growth process of both of these potential greats..

Wednesday, 18 March 2015

A Legacy instigating feature-length; To Pimp a Butterfly - Kendrick Lamar

It would seem that, like his fans, Kendrick got too excited to wait and decided to drop his album a week early. Then again, released at midnight on the 15th, this may have been a case of seizing opportunities. With the 14th marking 20 years since the release of 'Me Against The World' by 2Pac, perhaps releasing on the 15th was a means to symbolically signify continuation of his legacy; referencing again the message delivered by Tupac when confronting Kendrick in a vision; "Don't let my music die".


Such unravelling of unforetold circumstances then gives rise to a decision in need of making; available on Spotify from its early release for free, is there any need to wait and fulfil payment for a pre-ordered hard copy? Of course this can only be decided with listening. Loop after loop of the latest conscious audio clips from the soul of K-Dot.

Not having read the reviews of the fastest analytical journalists, I can't imagine there being many 'first thoughts' articles which usually follow up new albums within hours of their release. 'To Pimp a Butterfly' always promised microscopic-grade detailing. Unique calibre lyricism, riddled with teachings, preachings, messages and lessons. An opportunity then to exercise my own analytic lense, and see how much I can decipher before everybody has read mass media reviews, understands it inside out in 10 minutes or less, and has moved on to the next new hype source.

In the same vein as 'good kid, m.A.A.d city', if more analogised, the record espouses a story in a masterful fashion. A life cycle infused with consumption, pimping, poetry, drug dodging and answer searching, with an eventual arrival at welcoming actualisation - the Butterfly. Inaugurated with 'Wesley's Theory', beholding an intro whose black pride vocals easily lend itself to imagery of the likes of Curtis Mayfield, the beat breaks and Kendrick proceeds to itemise stereotyped hood dreams of wanting and spending wealth. 

Followed up with 'For Free', we recognise this as the outset of the caterpillar phase, and are introduced to the concept of pimping the Butterfly. Consuming his environment as a caterpillar, he learns to pimp the butterfly which, "represents the talent, the thoughtfulness and the beauty within the caterpillar". To use it as a means of survival and as a path to selfish gain. Cajoled by the city of Compton into the choice of 'Halle Berry' over 'Hallelujah', and resulting in the becoming of 'King Kunta'. Lyrics, wrapped up in smooth and sweet cut-a-rug funk licks, portraying his view atop the world; the women who used to walk on by during the process of climbing. And the haters trying to, like Kunta Kinte, keep him from running (the rap game) - previously defined by another King as "Mo' Money, Mo' Problems". 

'Institutionalized' marks the encapsulation of the cocoon. A closing off to the bullet-punctured city atmosphere and focus on internalisation. A King with unfilled potential and explorational urges to discover and search for answers to the problems of the gang scarred city and beyond. Girl problems, the goodness of God and the 'evils of Lucy' (LSD). Following full metamorphosis is the comforting relaxed tones of 'Momma', and the declaration that "this feeling is unmatched, brought to you by adrenaline and good rap". No drugs necessary, and a encyclopaedic-style complete knowledge of the world exist with the second birth which sees the Butterfly for the first time. 


With a capacity to be wise in glorious abundances similar to that of a Shaolin monk, Lamar comes back to the city. Despite his 'survivors guilt' from being cocooned away from his hood, he returns with the enlightenment of those same enclosed walls. Speaking on equality in 'Complexion', advocating an attention to the politics of the hood, and not to those of the rap industry on 'Hood Politics', and addressing the dangers of selling your soul on 'How Much A Dollar Cost', as he references Exodus 14; the story of Moses leading the Israelites to freedom from the Egyptians. 

Perhaps most poiniently though are his words pertaining to hypocrisy on 'The Blacker the Berry'. With the recent killing of unthreatening, unarmed black males by white police officers who were cleared without indictment, he highlights the resulting unity of the community, and yet at the same time, how the west coast culture of 'gangbangin'' will have a male like himself killing another black male just because of an affiliation to blue or red; Crip or Blood.

Upon release last September, people were surprised at the sounds of Kendrick's single, 'i'. Now a chapter nestled in the context of his grand story, we see clearly. A celebration of self, following the comforting words of 'You Ain't Gotta Lie (Momma Said)'. A celebration of truly realising the Butterfly's form. Coming to a close, we hear the entirety of Kendrick's poem which he had been making a way through throughout the record. A blueprint for his tracks and their content which he recalls to 2Pac on 'Mortal Man'. 

With the voice of 2Pac taken from a rare 1994 interview on 'p3 Soul' (a swedish radio show), this created dialogue between Shakur and Lamar is compelling at the utmost following Lamar's latest feature-length. Acting to remind in many ways the consciousness and fighting of 2Pac for the betterment of conditions for the African American community. To fight for equality and against the double standard of life in America. With this, Kendrick rediscovers the value of music, but not in a fiscal context as is being sought out by Wu-Tang Clan. Rather, the kind of value which does not lend itself easily to quantifying its effects, and yet has unbounded potential to instigate change. 


Despite it's multi-layered genius, it's not a record with a mass-consumption musical focus. Although with more licks than a nice cream truck it may well find favour with more mature generations. Especially those with an ear for Jazz. At numerous points it evokes imagery of Diz & Bird, and Miles Davis with it's very Bebop feel. This being said I can't imagine there being too many more singles being released from it. With the exception of 'King Kunta', many of its tracks wouldn't naturally stand alone that well. Perhaps from a beat-consumers perspective then it's not really that commercial. It's prominence is most definitely in it's content and originality of methods used. It's comprehensive capability to challenge and thought provoke.

As if it needed stating, I'm keeping my pre-order and will pay with pleasure. Even without a computer or CD player it will stand for now as an objet d'art. It's cover art conveying the duality in America. Part of its beauty is in an imagined lack of interest in record sales and revenues. It's primary importance being in its acting as a kind of public announcement. A pin prick in a nations conscience, that the American dream, remains a dream. The influence of this album however has had me personally thinking long, researching life cycles, appreciating poetry and opening a bible (at Exodus 14). With this influence in mind here's something to mull over; Barack Obama is the most powerful man in the world, but with regards to African Americans at this time maybe Kendrick Lamar is more so. 

Monday, 9 March 2015

Early onset of the forecast Summer Of Compton; The Game ft Meek Mill - The Soundtrack

Following a brief intermission after Kendrick Lamar's, 'good kid, m.A.A.d city' and YG's, 'My Krazy Life', Compton-hailing rappers are building to a summer which promises to see their city back in the public consciousness, not to mention the upper echelons of Rap and Hip-Hop. Second perhaps only to 'Tha Carter V' in hype status, the soon-be-released follow up to Kenrdick's aforementioned masterpiece, is set to be released toward the back end of this month. Throw into the pot the equally anticipated movie release of Straight Outta Compton, and you can expect to see, not so much a resurrection as a revival, of N.W.A's founding of Gangsta Rap and Westcoast Hip-Hop genres from '86-'91. 


Unbeknownst to the reasoning, I came up hooked on the music of the Westcoast. Be it N.W.A, Nate Dogg, Tupac, Dr. Dre, Eazy E, Snoop Dogg, The Game, Ice Cube, W.C., Westside Connection, Dilated Peoples or any other I haven't named due to a need to end the list somewhere. Hence, what is shaping up to be a rejuvenated Westcoast scene, is, exciting to me, and perhaps has activated some primordial DNA strand of my soul which I'm oblivious to the existence of.

Kicking off far in advance of a meteorologists definition of the summer season, The Game has stepped forward with Meek Mill to cut the metaphorical ribbon with the release of The Soundtrack. Widely received as a one of the hottest from the latest material out, it sees, what I believe to be the return of The Game to his styles from which he grew with The Documentary ('05) and Doctor's Advocate ('06). With the also, hopefully soon-to-be, release of The Documentary 2, after the 10 year anniversary of version 1, this is conceivably somewhat unsurprising, but nonetheless brilliant to my humble self. 

If you caught it first online, it's likely your initial thoughts of it were pertaining to the record cover (also seen below). The kind of photography which endures vividly in the minds eye even with little exposure to it, and is not a shred short of perfect in its representation of the conceptual focus of the tracks content. A young boy with a ski-mask and no snow insight to justify it as innocent. The ski mask being a visual accoutrement of the violent and murderous activities of the gang affiliated faces which they cover. The sheer oversized nature of the disguise conveying the adult age connotations which accompany the life within which the boy finds himself. Yet with enough material for a well fitting t-shirt for the photographed boy, it is evident that his life, if not now then in the future, will likely require it be used as a ski mask, and not so much because of the lack of a need for a t-shirt in the California sunshine. 


Of course, we are dealing here with rappers and so you have to account for a variable degree of exaggeration. The primary message though being the life in which the child is still likely, but not exclusively, to grow into on the streets of Compton. This simply being the way things still are, and portrayed as a trap by many, not only in Compton but across the U.S., and indeed the wider world. 

The lyrics within this packaging are tightly bound to each rappers respective city, Compton and Philadelphia. It's the cities knack for producing 'realness' which is the subject at hand. As stated, the rap/hip-hop industry is littered with rappers who exaggerate to the point of complete fabrication; Game's likening most rappers lives to a Miguel music video. Rap being born through a need to express or share a message, has like most industries been diluted by money. Certified 'Real' by their cities upbringing, they illustrate their stories;

"Politics is usual, them palm trees is beautiful/ Crack rock lingerin', fiends suckin' they cuticles/ Wear the wrong colours round here n***** is shooting you" -The Game

"I fell in love with these streets I lost my n***** to" -Meek Mill

The back and forth of their delivery is a chemistry to behold. Pick any sports analogy you like to communicate it; tennis, basketball, ping pong, many will work. Or perhaps it's most similar to squash. Two guys swinging at the same wall; the wall being the fakers in the industry, as they demonstrate that it doesn't matter which was rapping, the situation was much the same in Compton as in Philly.

Finally but foremost, the music arrangements on this record are so LA I can't help but loop it multiple times. Being signed to Blood Money Entertainment, a subsidiary of Cash Money, and having spent time in Miami under what I believe to be the commercial influences of CEO Birdman, it's so nice to see The Game back in LA. Although still under the same record label, the dawn of the Compton Summer has definitely brought his mindset back. 10 year anniversary celebrations with his mentors, and founders of the Westcoast scene, and on set with the same crew at the filming of Straight Outta Compton, I believe is what we owe it too.

With a desire to capture the same LA vibe in The Documentary 2, you can tell he's looked back for inspiration. This being done primarily through a saxophone. Listening to the track I can't help but think about the theme music to Boyz N The Hood; the quintessential representation of South Central Los Angeles in the 90s. So reminiscent is the saxophone that you can't help but think of the 'Ricky' scene from the film.

After doing a little research, I've discovered that the Boyz N The Hood theme was composed by Stanley Clarke. An American jazz musician and composer, who, like Meek Mill, was a Philadelphia native who helped to represent for LA. 

The track then is great. And great things are coming for Compton which anybody who loves Hip-Hop can enjoy. Hopefully 'The Soundtrack' will be the first single off The Documentary 2, and will go along way in catching the overall style of the album. With so much newness coming for one city in one year though, I can't help but think it was planned. And being as the city is Compton, I wouldn't be surprised in the least if all this fresh art was individual master strokes from an Artist who calls himself a Dr. The same Dr. who is really a producer. And the same producer who is The rap mogul. Dr. Dre. The man affiliated in some way with all that is good from the C.P.T. (with the exception of the Williams sisters), yet still originally from The Worlds Most Dangerous Group...



Friday, 6 March 2015

Wu-Tang Clan calls Play-Action on Download Misappropriation

Once Upon A Time In Shaolin might just have afforded Wu-Tang Clan the accolade of best title for a debut rap album ever. As it was, their debut was of course the universally deemed classic, Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers) way back in 1993. So now their story from Shaolin will mark their final act after 22 years, 8 albums (including Once Upon A Time), countless singles, EP's, compilations, and the untimely demise of 'Ol Dirty Bastard; they will exit the recording studios of Staten Island, and take their place in rap history.  

The Clan never really was a body that cared for conforming though. Be it their running through Fred Flintstones neighbourhood for the Gravel Pit video, their voluminous audio cuts from the 1981 movie Shaolin vs Wu-Tang, from which they would derive their name or The RZA's writings of The Tao of Wu; a book which patiently sits on my desk, soon to monopolise my thoughts. 


So in keeping with this tradition of breaking tradition, they have just one copy of the new album. No digital back-ups, just a regular disc similar to those most of us have. Just as susceptible to scratches, and the resultant broken up audio, as any other. Although perhaps not so at this current time as it's sits locked away in what RZA calls the "illest album cover ever". Also known as a very fancy looking box to you and I, by British-Morocan artist, Yahya. The same box which was held for three hours at JFK airport because somebody lost the key and could not confirm what was inside..

Think of it like this. The Denver Broncos are down in the Super Bowl. 4th quarter with a buck 12 to go, and in need of 88 yards to hit a touchdown. Peyton Manning in his final season steps up, not liking what he sees on the defensive set, only instead of yelling his signature audible, Omaha, to the rest of his team he initiates the play. Going for the hand off to his running back as planned, he instead holds onto the ball, creates a play-action situation and tosses up an 88 yard Hail Mary to one lucky & unsuspecting receiver for the win. 

RZA is your hip-hop Peyton. The smartest man on the field, split-second-analysing intricacies you have no idea exist. Thinking he was going to hand off the album to the fans, but throwing it up to one, with 88 years of copyright.

As the auction is still going ahead, one assumes they found the key. But whilst the physical existence of the 31-track LP which is said to feature Redman, Cher and even members of FC Barcelona, and which is shrouded in mystery and a grade of secrecy which is nothing short of monumental in a world full of internet leaks, the reasoning behind this move is no less shrouded in befuddlement. 

With online outlaws illegally downloading every minute, it's been justified as an attempt to bring back value to music. If you win the bid, (RZA has already been offered $5mill so don't go raiding that piggy just yet) you own the album, yes, but it is subject to Wu-Tang's copyright which won't run out for 88 years so one can't simply copy it and sell it to two...or 7...billon. 

You could however share it for free, and this is where befuddlement meets contradiction. The successful bidder will of course be buying into imminent pressure to share. But to share it for free, would that not stand in conflict with the original reason for such a stunt? To add value. Unless there is a preempting of a sense of profound blessing which will consume each being who hears the album. This being induced due to the sharing of the album for free in defiance of the odds which currently are being built against its release.

Perhaps we are simply not wise enough to understand the wisest man in hip-hop. Perhaps once I've consumed, digested and embodied the Tao of Wu I will be enlightened to an understanding. As an opinion devoid of the specific circumstantial activity of this case, it's certainly refreshing to see some artists innovating. Be it RZA and the Wu, Beyoncé, J.Cole & Drake releasing albums without telling a sole or Macklemore and the two Ryan's (Lewis and Leslie) repping for the independent hustler. Where downloading outlaws are concerned, the pinstriped suit adorned boardmembers of the record labels are plainly failing to deal, and so to the artist experimentation I salute.

To the Shaolin story, it is mine to opine that perhaps Wu-Tang will just sell the most expensive record in history. And in doing so, will accumulate the same revenue as they would have accumulated had they sold the album the old fashioned way. And the album will be shared, free of charge. And the owner will be a hero to Wu and Hip-Hop fans everywhere. And the Wu-Tang Clan will have a final album that will, like themselves, be remembered in history, as conforming to their own tradition of breaking tradition. 

Just one final word. Please nobody inform Dr. Dre of this concept of an 88 year copyright, because I'm still trying to get to hear Detox. We don't want him getting ideas...

Thursday, 5 March 2015

27 Lessons, which aren't all lessons, from another step on Curtis Mayfield's Stairway of 'Move On Up'

1. Somewhere out there is a man playing snap with his crocodile in the back of his house..
2. Or worse...strip poker.
3. Some drinks require a little chewing.
4. There's a strong correlation between number of oranges peeled and consumed and the love, or lack there of, you have for your work.
5. Medicinal chocolate only breeds a desire for further illness. 
6. Yellow peas are cool as a penguin
7. Ask and ye shall receive. What's up Marcus P!
8. Buy the same car in the same colour as your buddy and you're destined to be caste up at the same time.
9. You can be eye candy without realising.
10. Eye candy is nice, but it's better to be soul food.
11. A great boss is defined by an ability to spit the lyrics to DMX, Ludacris or Nate Dogg without really knowing the words. 
12. Work too fast and the fat kid on a rollercoaster might just wind up laughing back at you.
13. Tank related google searches can get a lot stranger than you think.
14. Contrary to public opinion, some fire alarms aren't loud enough.
15. Freeze a frube. Even if you have to borrow a freezer..
16. ..you won't regret it.
17. Replacing a burger bun with two glazed ring doughnuts will give a taste to your understanding of calories.
18. Keep it G.A.N.G.S.T.A... And if you lose your way, Nate Dogg will help you find your way back..
19. ..maintain your Gangsta, and A Party We Will Throw Now.
20. Wood chips can be mistakenly sold as almonds.
21. Sometimes you've just got to get to the spot.
22. Some foods have to be consumed before they are smelt. 
23. Shoelaces are usually sold in pairs.
24. Test tubes don't always contain babies and corrosive chemicals. 
25. To get hench requires an undying, religious devotion to fast food.
26. The Harry Potter theme music is best listened to in a storm.
27. Shopping channel addiction is real.

Wednesday, 18 February 2015

Ryan Leslie, MZRT @ Dingwalls, Camden

Thursday before the Sunday of the Ryan Leslie gig, and Alex gets hit with an official communiqué direct from the man himself. And soon Miles tells me our tickets are invalid. The gig has been cancelled by the promoters, AXS. So no O2... As I sat, for a brief second contemplating the chemical symbol for nitrous dioxide; NO2, Miles threw me a lifeline. A concert would still take place that evening. And R. Les would still be the Master of Ceremonies. We just needed more tickets, which within 10 mintues, we had. And so could remain the building of excitement..


Come Sunday afternoon, and we're ready. After sharing an early morning 8 hour shift, Alex and I were, following some chicken of course, all set for another 12 or so hours ahead. All scrubbed up and clean, the four of us hit the station for the slow train to Kings Cross, but at a killer price, in consideration of the two students in our clique.


On arrival in London we all, without conferring, decided to walk an aimless loop around the surrounding area whilst we waited for the thought to spring to one of our minds that we should probably decide what we were going to do with the next 2-3 hours before doors opening at 7pm. Quickly making the no-brain necessary decision, which so many men make when they have time on their hands; "Let's go get some eats!". Where? The Colonel of course. After all, we'd only had one serving of chicken that day. 


With brimmed bellies we struck up a casual gait in the direction of the doors. Still fulfilling the tourist look, as we took the attitude of, 'keep walking around until you find it". Dingwalls was where we were headed; a venue of considerably smaller capacity than that of the original, Indigo at the O2. Nonetheless, Les had pulled off a brand of quick thinking improvisation that any Bebop Jazz troupe would be proud of.



As we waited for longer than what would've been ideal, we filled the time with such trivial yacketing as the modern day use of the word 'literally'. Now I'm just saying, it seems nobody can make a point without the perceived emphasis and validity that comes with the use of the word 'literally'. But because of its excessive use, wanting our own message to have more prominence than the other guy's, we use the word twice and on the second occasion we over-enunciate the 'l-i', curling our tongue and extending that sound which, ironically, creates no extra emphasis whatsoever. But we do it anyway, which is literally ridiculous...


By the time we'd depleted our stores of such trifling conversational randomness, stared at some rather Camdenesque lighting and had a chuckle/shared the pain of Darius who stood, unknowingly underneath a 'toilets this way' sign, in desperate need of a toilet, only to run off and find one elsewhere, the time had come to get inside. 

With the fans all in, Les came out, to grant us our first listenings of No Prisoners; one of seven tracks off the as yet unreleased new album, MZRT (Maginicently Zealous Renegades Takeover). Just the kind of high energy anthem, which comes with a requisite high volume level, and screams out for a fast paced music video draped in black clothing, limo tint black sunglasses and a portrayal of Leslie's perception of the top.

Maintaining the energy, Les rolls into an unbroken set of his most famous tracks. Black Mozart, Something That I Like, Swiss Francs, Beautiful Lie, Diamond Girl as his own solo tracks. Mixed in with a few of his most famous features and productions; Lloyd Banks' 'Start It Up', Fabolous' 'You Be Killin' Em' & 'Everything, Everyday, Everywhere' and a particular favourite of the crowd, Red Café's 'Fly Together', with its addictive hook as sung by Ryan.


It was at this stage that the only seats of the 'King's Row', just in front of the stage, became somewhat redundant and pointless in their jacked up prices. With everybody on their feet, we knew these tracks. Knew the lyrics. And could write them out backwards if you asked it of us.

With these tracks being mainstays getting regular plays in my own music library, this was a treat to behold. Especially with his live performance being so inline, sound wise, with the studio recorded originals. Not only this, but the energy he transmitted through the speakers and from his very being was very real. Feeling it all the more in such a personal venue perhaps somewhat unusual for Ryan.


Cue a few spoken words on the situation with the cancelled O2 gig. Shades off for a more genuine, personal feel, admitting that the promoter pulled the gig because of an inability to move tickets at the rate they would have expected it. For anybody who knows R, they understand a great virtuosity, matched up with an undeserved, yet distinct lack of recognition for his indubitable talent. And this still persists even since working closely with artists of the calibre of Fabolous, Rick Ross and Cassie, and was apparent in his fan numbers in London. With this being somewhat embarassing for us, the English fans, who frankly, expected more support for a U.S. great.

The thing about Les though is he's completely independent. No record label to take the lion share of his profits. But on the flip side, no record label to publicise, market, produce, mix, organise world tours or do all of the other things that I don't know are involved in creating a multi-million record selling artist, but which I'm sure number in their hundreds or thousands.

And as he addresses us, he alludes to his theory for growth. The personal touch which I've alluded to previously. Declaring his love for any fan who is willing to spend just one dollar on him. And his Mother's fears of not being able to contact him due to what must be a contact list which presumably very closely resembles sardines in a can. 


Back to the music and Leslie brings more new music from the unreleased, MZRT. Interesting to know, is that this status of 'unreleased', is born out of another status which is 'unfinished'. But how can you perform an unfinished album? Ryan's approach was to break it down. Taking the time to sit at the keyboard and perform a short section of each track in a slowed fashion, explaining some of the thought processes and inspirations behind each track, before getting up and pumping out a self-produced beat and performing it with an accompanying guitar. A very unique kind of concert, but how could we have expected anything else? 

Admitting that it's difficult to hear music for the first time at a concert, he interwove previously released tracks such as the classic 'Addiction' ft Cassie & Fabolous. Nonetheless a great setup for what was a very short notice gig. 

With the Dingwalls curfew quickly closing in, Ryan asked the audience for a track request... "Who Wears The Crown!!", yelled out by an individual in our vicinity. To which Les replies, "I know you, you're _____". Excuse my forgetting of his name but it was indeed him. "...I know my fans" says Les. That's big respect points in my book, pulling out the name like that. 


So here we were, watching Ryan shut down the venue. Standing up on his piano stool with another thunderous beat off my next album purchase, MZRT. And as the regular lighting came on, and Les walked out the back of the stage, he quickly came back. Sittng down at his keyboard to bless us wth one final, final track. Perhaps what is in most peoples ears his best; How It Was Supposed To Be. It's certainly one of my favourite music videos. And one which both myself and the rest of the crowd would join him in singing/yelling as loud as we could. You could really sense he didn't want to leave. And really couldn't sense any frustration at the unexpected breakdown of the original plan.


All things considered, the guy is a board member of Fly USA. Metaphorically speaking. And an indefatigable individual. Literally speaking. 

As a crowd, we benefitted from a small venue and a concert which, at times resembled a studio session for the making of his new album, and at others, resembled a highly charged performance to thousands. Now if this was any other artist, you'd feel extremely lucky, and that'd be the end of it. But, with a good degree of confidence, I think that crowd would have preferred to see Les in an arena of thousands... This being the kind of environment that we know is befitting of our hero. 

So with a left ear that was destined to ring for the next 3 days, it was nice to catch a moment, in the rather fresh, wee hours of Monday morning, to reflect on the greatness of Ryan's being. Perched on a swing inside a giant bird cage though, I quickly came to the conclusion that I should swiftly escape the cage and get back to some flying practice of my own...


*All photo credit goes to Alex 'Pearsonal' Pearson. For without such a champion of the iPhone 6 and the sterling photography it facilitates, I would surely be lost.


Thursday, 29 January 2015

The Comment

The fourth quarter of 2014 then yielded Apple an astronomical €12bn profit. A harvest which leaves me wondering what it would've been like to spend the 12 days of Christmas with the tech giants top directors? And, subsequently, wondering whether the lower level staff refer to these Directors as the 'pips' of Apple, or not?... 

Anywho! The same fourth quarter saw myself in a much humbler light. At one point, operating under the effects of Ryan Leslie. High off the sounds of 'I Gets Money', scribbling an attempt at briefly summarising his unorthodox approach to the music industry. Highlighting the fact that you can drop him a WhatsApp message just as easy as Apple can break quarterly profit records.

Despite my preaching of his revolutionary stance against the universally understood construct that celebrities are, in some way, higher forms of humans, I didn't however, place myself among those who were reaching out to the man. 

In my defence, I am somewhat technologically challenged currently, with a phone that still has actual buttons, and a torch light function which is not so much a torch as it is the screen simply being as bright as it can be, hence an inability to use or even join the rest of the world on WhatsApp. Despite this disablement though, it's still just as easy to shoot off an email.

So I'm somewhat unsure as to why I didn't try and message Ryan. Perhaps this was owing to an absence of words; what do you say to someone who appears to live solely in your iTunes? Or maybe there was a subconscious feeling of unworthiness; we do after all look up to these people. In essence though, it didn't really matter as I gave it little or no thought at the time.

Step up Alex P. An honorary Miller brother for more years now than all five of us possibly realise. Upon reading my R. Les post, he did decide to contact the man...apparently.

Fast forward a week or two and I'm in a frantic state of excitement and disbelief. A routine check of the emails was to reveal a comment notification from the blog, and having not had a single comment by this stage, it took a minute or two to realise what it was..


Incapable of stillness I make a way to my Brothers. Call it a B-line if you will.. Trying and failing to act natural in telling them, all of us were utterly bamboozled by what had just transpired. The next step, of course, was to inform Alex..

"So I got my first comment on my blog today and who did it come from? Gimme 3 rapid fire guesses"

"Ryan Leslie.. Please be Ryan Leslie.. It was! He just emailed me!" 

Now at a higher form of bamboozlement, Alex owns up to emailing Ryan the details of my blog and asking him to have a quick read. What a boy Alex! 

Break down Leslie's thought process and you'll discover the simplistic genius of it all. The number one issue facing the music industry, indeed, the entertainment industry as a whole, is the illegal download of its produce. But how can you solve such an issue when the basis of all technological advancement is a constant expanding of boundaries and limits. One cannot foresee such a reigning in of today's technologies to tackle such an issue. It simply stands in direct contrast to the constitution of technological development.

Perhaps understanding of this, Ryan, through direct comments, WhatsApp & emails, is evolving the Celebrity/Fan relationship. Forging a much greater degree of loyalty from fans. For it is this loyalty alone which shall take the fan to iTunes to purchase legally. Or to those seeming relics of the past, the local record store.

Think of it like this. Ryan Leslie can sit amongst your friends, family, and local kebab house and taxi company which you keep in your phone contact list. Engaging in a quick interaction now and then in a similar fashion to past university friends. 

This'll have you calling him Ryan, as opposed to Ryan Leslie or 'R. Les'. He's now your homeboy. You understand he's a busy man, nonetheless, there's a relationship there. So, come the release of his new album, MZRT, how can you possibly search the web for an illegal download? You don't steal from your homies. 

So perhaps rather than 'evolving' the Celebrity/Fan relationship, Ryan is 'creating' it. And as exemplary products of this, Alex and I stand. Having purchased four tickets to the London stop on his world tour in just a weeks time, we will go to support our famous buddy. With money in our wallets, knowing there may be some merchandise to grab as a result of Alex's contact with Ryan's team, Renegades NYC, we will be only too happy to, in the words of Kendrick Lamar, 'blow it like Coltrane'.


Tuesday, 20 January 2015

'A Man of few words'. You think?

This was my introduction during the years I could be considered a young boy. Delivered by my mother, usually once my conversation skills had come to an abrupt end 20 seconds into meeting a family member for the first time since I was young enough to get away with having bowel movements free of any care for where I was. For the record, I don't remember being this young. Not off the top of my head anyway..

In essence then, this was Mother coming to my rescue. Like a Marvel Avenger, swooping down to save the day. And most of the time I was alright anyway. Because when you have an elder brother who can speak as well as mine, all you need do was stick to him like glue. This guaranteed your safety.  

The young shy me though, never really considered this descriptive. Take it at face value and it suggests simply, that one doesn't speak much. With a little thought though, what it should have been was, 'a man of few vocalised words'. Because everyone has words. Words are our means of expression. Our thoughts can be dreamed in words. Our media. TV shows. Music libraries. Traditional type libraries.. 

We all have words. And I should think that none of us really stand out as having less or more than the next person. All that separates us from one another is our collection of words, the way we piece them together and the mediums through which we share them (or not, as the case may be).


As a blogger come aspiring career writer, I do have words. A mental library load. As well as folded up peices of A4 paper with scribbles all over them. You might catch me at the back of the bus for example, with my headphones in and such a peice of folded paper, scribbling down a clever lyric from a track...looking like I'm trying to re-enact the scene from Eminem's, 8 Mile.. "Will a fake Slim Shady please stand up". 

Inside my mental library you'll find copious quanitities of lyrics. When you choose to love rap music you're destined to fill your head with words. The epic wordplay of a Lil Wayne metaphor. Or the sheer, mind-boggling number of words on the Kamikaze album by Twista - of which, I'm pretty confident in claiming to know at least 90% of. As would my young Brother of Badassery, Theo. And 'B-Boy Way Too D', Darius. Even House Music Miles can go to the sounds of Sunshine, I'm sure of it.

Then comes the books. Not my own words. But words birth words. Give rise to thoughts and stories to share. Christmas saw me take home a neat little haul. Rappers, Jay-Z & Winston Churchill. Thats pretty Gangsta Santa, I must say.

 
Here lies the reason behind my absence from the blog for the inauguration of this New Year. Having my nose in an zinger of a biography of Winston Churchill, by Boris Johnson. And subsequently composing a piece myself for potential online publishing. While reading, it became necessity to keep a pen and paper nearby. Reason being that Bojo seems to know more great words you never heard of than an Oxford Dictionary. A seriously colossal vocabulary. You'd be a certified nutcase were you to class yourself an aspiring writer and not take down these words. Hence I now have a few pages of minute handwritten words and an Evernote note entitled, 'Bojo's Dictionary', to define them all.


It has been a good way to begin a new year. The books of these slightly more old age (but not old old) Christmas Day's, give new thoughts to accompany you into the New Year. As well as providing one with an opportunity to push closer to achieving an actual career! One word I yoinked from Bojo was Megalopsychia. A Greek expression meaning 'greatness of soul'. He of course used it to describe Winston. But I don't see why we can't all adopt it for ourselves as a motto for our New Year..





Friday, 26 December 2014

Undisputed 2014

Following a 5am wake up and an 8 hour shift, Sunday of the same weekend of my meeting with Rick was to bring some of the rawest energy of the year. It was the day Darius and I would spectate at our first Breaking event. Undisputed 2014. 8 winners from 8 of the years premier B-Boy meets. 


Out of work at 2, it was a rapid skate home, quick shower and quicker trip to the train station. Having made it to the 2:55 train on time we sat, realising we were exhausted. Not really knowing what to expect, we made it to Kings Cross then tube'd it to Islington; site of the coming battle royale at the O2 Academy. 

With no sign postings, we found ourselves indebted to the wonders of smartphone GPS. Directions known, the two of us quick marched the quoted '20 minute' walk. Putting in the odd quick step, dropping a shoulder and cutting up a few pedestrians here and there we did it in 10. There was to be no tourist-like hanging about to admire views. 

5:30, doors opening, and the crowds were ready. The beauty of Breaking proving itself to attract people of many styles. This we noticed, by looking around at the shoes on show. Afterall, Breaking is a major faction of original Hip-Hop culture, just as much as being a sneaker head is. And yet looking around at the crowds it was only too clear to see how Hip-Hop had broadened it's reach, grabbing kids who rocked all different kinds of sneakers.


So this was D 'n' me! You could tell Dari's excitement, as he'd opted for his much prized Son of Mars Jordan's. D is the passionate novice. Only in the game 5 minutes but understanding of a love for the art. Forget about being way too G, Dari is way too D! He'll do what he does and if you don't like well that's up to you. 

I personally went for my Koston 1 Signature model Nike's. Koston being a skater, I felt these would be a safe choice as I didn't wish to come across like a B-Boy and wind up getting into a battle without any such skills to match!



It was our turn to get up in the house when I personally met with a crushing commandment. "Thou shalt not take any half-decent camera into the event." Not the exact words of the bouncer but it was along those lines. It would have to be left with our bags. "Awe schucks!"

Shake it off! There will be official photographers with better cameras and angles so I'll commandeer theirs (credit to little shao). Waiting for battle to commence, the crowd forming the battleground, and DJ Lean Rock banging out classic after classic, the B-Boys in the audience could take to the circle and have a cypher of their own. A couple brave bodies hit the empty circle and pretty soon it was going off. Regardless of your skill level, you were guaranteed a degree of respect just for putting yourself in and having a go. This being another beauty of Breaking.


Now. Keep up because this could get complicated. The event was to be made up of three rounds of battles. Four battles per round. Followed by two semi-finals and a final. Each individual battle consists of three rounds, or 'turns', for the two B-Boys. Each battle is judged on a per round basis. I.e. Best of three wins the battle. And these turns can last as long as you like. Or as long as you have the energy to carry on for. 

You have to bear in mind though that neither the judges nor the crowd will appreciate repetition of moves. So it's a game of knowing how hard to go in order to beat your opponent, whilst not wearing out your move list. The further you intend on going in the event, the larger repertoire you will need.

And all of this has to be done to a beat created by DJ Lean Rock. He's the man with the music for these high profiled Breaking events. If you don't dance to the beat you won't win. But if you hit a big move right at the point when the beat drops, you'll set the crowd a-light and are going to reap the rewards from the judges.



Before long though it was time. Time to watch the masters. Watching also was an expert judging panel; Storm, Niek, Lamine, Renegade and Darius' favourite, Roxrite. 

First battle of the night saw the 2014 Red Bull BC One Champion, Menno from the Netherlands face off against Kleju out of Poland. From then on it was ON. A master class in body control. 8 unique blends of quickness, intricate technique and power, all performed to a variety of the freshest beats out of Lean Rock's kitchen. 



We quickly concluded that these cats must plug themselves into the national grid before events such as this. The rawest energy, radiated out into us, the crowd, with frequent eruptions and shakes at a new or signature move. The battle element only gives more to the atmosphere. One on one. They take on the intensity of a championship boxing bout (or at least how I imagine one to be). 

Despite being largely unknowing of the Breaking scene, I had absolutely no trouble enjoying it and involving myself in the event. Talk about a feast for the eyes. This was an all you can eat buffet. And all for around 20 beans per ticket. 

As the battles went on, my allegiance was with Lilou. French Algerian. Super slim with Sonic the Hedgehog speed. His style is highly distinguishable, even if you have no clue about the art. The most absurd flexibility with threading techniques which boggle the mind. Seeing is believing, but sometimes you'd like to see a couple action replays to be sure. This is most definitely the case with Lilou.

Hit up some Lilou on YouTube and you'll find out that its possible to play air guitar with your foot and how to play jump rope with just your hand and your foot. 


By this stage our exhaustion upon setting out on our journey had been annihilated and replaced with excitement..and then some! Lilou was in the final. His opponent? Menno. After an epic battle with the Russian, Alkolil, Menno had made it to another final following his success at the Red Bull BC One just a few weeks back.

Let the wait for their entrances begin. DJ Lean Rock pumping out Kanye's, Jesus Walks, for all the hip-hop heads. Heads were bobbing in unison like something out of 8 Mile. The time had arrived. Lean Rock kicks out the start of Ante Up by M.O.P but holds it for an extra couple of seconds as it builds, then let's it go for Lilou's entrance. "OHHH!!!"

Menno soon follows. As if more intrigue was required, we would not see how the judges scored each round until the end of all 3, when the winner would be announced. At this stage I'm writhing with frustration. There are simply no words to properly communicate what the final was like. It has to be seen. Needless to say at the end of each round many among the crowd could be seen to raise a clenched fist to their mouth and exhale, as if they were blowing into an imaginary microphone. 

It was close. Electrifying in the extreme. The crowd letting out yells of "OHHH!!", in the same way as M.O.P had been, coming out of the speakers in the previous couple of minutes. Both Menno and Lilou, liberated by the lack of a need to hold any moves back. This was the time to go all in, and put in the best rounds of the night. And they really did. Wipe your eyes between rounds and don't blink when that new beat begins because you might just miss it. 


Final over. Again we waited for the results. Shouts of support for both Menno & Lilou. Until the host answered everyone's question. Lilouuuu! 

Well deserved. Later we would discover that Menno won round one, and Lilou took rounds two and three. A close call. But well earned victory. These are memorable guys and to have been within just 2-3 metres of them, and to see them perform was experience far more valuable than the £20 we had paid. Show me a better way to spend a Sunday evening and I'll be beyond impressed.



Heading out of the O2 we were greeted with rain. Fantastic. Fortunately we now had more than enough energy to get our run on and make it back to Islington tube station. Faster than we had done it the first time around I might add. 

And with 40 minutes to kill on my 4th visit to Kings Cross of the weekend, we caught a couple shots, and rode the escalators to the upper viewing level. Both of us, pleased to see that D's Son of Mars were still in remarkably clean condition considering the weather conditions they had just braved.



Official recap video: http://youtu.be/vUQl9zIT-4E