BRICKS & HEATED WORDS

You may have noticed a predilection towards rap magazines here before, and finding a stack of 20-year old publications a few weeks back I thought I’d lost had me feeling a little nostalgic for the days when WH Smiths had at least a few homegrown publications of worth on the shelf. Mainly because, with my Medusa touch, I managed to make every single UK rap magazine I’ve ever written for fold within a few months of publishing my work. Hip-hop magazines are a hard sell when you can log on and get something more up to date or catch something long form on Unkut or Complex.com, but there’s room for something created with care that captures the current state of the industry. Those with a long memory will recall an underrated British ‘zine called The Downlow that ran for four or so years (1992-1996) with an over designed, occasionally unintelligible layout with a ton of electronic typefaces that recalled David Carson’s work on Ray Gun around the same time or Neville Brody and Jon Wozencroft’s FUSE. It favoured words over pictures. 1992’s BLAG (which is, admirably, still standing) and 1995’s shortly-lived True (which switched to Trace after True folded) united hip-hop culture with style well, bringing some spirit seen in America’s Vibe and The Fader. I’m interested to see BRICK, a new British hip-hop publication, in the flesh — especially after enjoying the second issue of another London-based project, Viper. Founded and creatively directed by photographer Hayley Louisa Brown, designed by POST — and edited by RWD’s Grant Brydon, the careful approach to the all important look — complete with custom typefaces — is both evocative of the more sincere locally created mags of old and hip-hop’s current aesthetic (despite, bar honourable exceptions, a dip in the quality of album cover art during the last decade). Neil Bedford’s shots of Supreme-hating, Cobain swag jacking stoner Wiz Khalifa for one of BRICK’s cover stories made the Daily Mail (we’ve come a long way since that Snoop “KICK THIS EVIL BASTARD OUT” Daily Star cover) and hopefully that attention will turn into sales. Shouts to the team for making it happen. Go check out this fine It’s Nice That feature on the making of issue #1 and visit the official site here.

On the subject of rap and typography, the Heated Words crew are studiously examining the history and legacy of the mysterious but influential b-boy font seen on Dynamic Rockers, RAMM:ΣLL:ZΣΣ, Mick Jones, Biz Markie, Malcolm McLaren and Joe Strummer that defined 1982-era hip-hop style. Supreme have used a replica of this classic heat pressed typeface several times and Alex Olsen’s Bianca Chandon recently homaged a Paradise Garage tee with it on from back in the day. It’s integral to UK street style too — imported by intrepid tourists who hit up the Albee Square Mall to get a custom creation and the Heated Words: Initial Research exhibition to set off the project opens on the 27th of this month for a couple of weeks at London’s House of Vans. Videos, photographs by Martha Cooper, Mike Laye, Michael Markos and several others, old ads and some of the clothing in question. If you like some of the nonsense I link to here, you’re liable to really enjoy this one.

While we’re talking old magazines and Neville Brody, this Gilded Words piece is great: Jamie Morgan talking about a contact sheet from a classic Buffalo shoot for with Felix Howard for the March 1985 issue of The Face and the moment when every person started calling themselves a stylist.

FAMILY TREES

Ed Piskor’s work is excellent. Hip-hop and comic books don’t always sit together too well (see, Nine Rings of Wu-Tang), but his well-documented work with Fantagraphics to create the Hip-Hop Family Tree — with book #2 having just dropped this week — is a thing of beauty. Taking its sweet time to explore the origins of the culture — significantly more than any hatchet job documentary — with Piskor’s painstaking approach to art and shedding light on the unsung (plus the challenge of filling the gaps to create dialogue and an engaging narrative) and putting out 200 pages to reach 1983, I’m in awe. His dust-addled Russell Simmons needs his own spinoff graphic novel. The forthcoming box set comes complete with an issue #300 that switches appearance to an early 1990s Image aesthetic to look at the connection between comics and hip-hop, as best demonstrated by Spike Lee’s 1991 commercial for Levi’s starring a then red-hot Rob Liefeld. Everyone who looks at this blog will find something to love in this project, if they haven’t already invested in it. While it’s aimed at my generation, I envy any kid picking it up and getting educated without the feeling of being bellowed at by intense old-timers in South Pole denim.

The aforementioned Wu-Tang effort was bad, but their former collaborators Onyx put out something equally weak with their Marvel book Fight back in 1995. We’ve discussed the Jive comics like the 1994 Crustified Dibbs one that came with the promo tape, the Casual and the Extra Prolific editions, but RA has gone on record discussing the effort that his name was attached to and one of the packs was on eBay fairly recently (see below.) Given RA’s encyclopaedic b-movie knowledge, it could’ve been great. This Dream Warriors comic from Canada is also from 1994. Speaking of that strange year for rap funny books, I’ll always defend KRS One’s Marvel Break the Chain “Psychosonic Comic” with Kyle Baker on art, plus an accompanying tape — shouts to Big Joe Krash. Issue #40 of Rock N’ Roll Comics from 1991, covering the career of NWA was a glorious oddity too. Nothing came close to Percy Carey’s Sentences: the Life of MF Grimm until Piskor’s work arrived — both deserve to be on the shelf if you’re a rap trivia fiend. This one-hour interview with Piskor from earlier last year explains a little of this labour of love.

Hip-Hop Family Tree could’ve been abysmal, but it’s one of the best books on the subject ever.

1984

Weapon ads in old issues of ‘Black Belt’ take it back to 1984 — a time of local video shops with a wall of cheap martial art movies to match the heft of the horror and porn sections and school trips to France being the optimum time to pick up knuckle dusters, fun size explosives and the fabled throwing stars. Not so much ‘Niggas in Paris’ — more like ninjas in Calais. I love these pictures, from the peak of Michael Dudikoff’s career and a time when Lee Van Cleef and Sho Kosugi in ‘The Master’ took ninjas prime-time before a swift cancellation, who wouldn’t want foot claws and a belt buckle with a removable throwing star. The scope for stupidity, and a trip to the emergency ward, with these offerings is still deeply tempting. Who would have thought anything that included a knuckle knife could look downright quaint 28 years down the line?

My quest for the perfect sweat continues and like the white tee one (mission aborted, I’ll stick with Kirklands from Costco from now on) it’s too subjective to announce a winner. But looking in spots like J Simons reveals some contenders that aren’t Japanese repros or the usual suspects. Germany’s Pike Brothers have a grey melange number that gets the neck, cuffs and snug but not skin tight (the downfall of many a fine effort from the far east) fit right. The brand seems more aimed at the 1950s’ revivalist crowd, but even if you’re not a pomade and braces kind of chap, they get this basic right and drop it at a fair price point. Taking the name of the design back to its physical training origins by calling it the P.T. Sweater makes a lot of sense too — resisting any urge for contrast ribbing or flat lock seams that you’d be able to see from a mile off lets this accessorise pretty much everything. A very strong effort.



As proof that people have been solemnly over thinking graffiti on canvases for a lot longer than European tourists have being wandering east London with cameras held aloft on Banksy-themed tours, ART/new york’s ‘Graffiti/Post Graffiti’ has reappeared on YouTube again. It tends to appear then be pulled down and while it’s not essential, it’s a good accompaniment for some core flicks for fans of this miserable sub-culture. I’ve long pondered as to whether anyone downtown in the early 1980s realised that they were at the nucleus of a zeitgeist, or whether it was a squalid hand to mouth time for anyone beyond the chosen few. What is clear is that by 1984, when this documentary was put together, the joy had been sucked out by solemn studies like this. Still, at least some deserving folks were getting paid at this point and now this kind of film is pure gold. There’s some good Rammellzee works and sonics, some Futura and Crash’s leather jacket, but it’s the serious faces in attendance watching the canvas being reworked at the New York Society for Ethical Culture happening that are some of the best footage in this short film. That Marc H. Miller Basquiat interview (an edit of a far longer chat) is the one that inspired the confrontational Christopher Walken conversation in the ‘Basquiat’ biopic — a great film, rife with SANE and COPE tags and throw ups to ruin the historical authenticity, though none were as jarring as the OBEY poster in a Lester Bangs themed deleted scene in ‘Almost Famous.’

Harry Jumonji is a name checked downtown skate legend who represents the hardcore attitude of the city, but had a career blighted by crack addiction and jail time. Life would barely be worth living without the prospect of another focused skate documentary in post-production, and after some solid portraits of other characters, from Gator to Hosoi to Duane to Jessee, it’s Harry’s time. It’s nice to see New York in the spotlight, and while I assumed Epicly Later’d might cover him one day (on the Later’d front, the Fabian Alomar story could fit another 2 hours), NY Skateboarding just reported on a trailer for a documentary from Erica Hill Studio. With a life that moved from Parana to Ubatuba to New York, Harry’s a legend — this 1989 image of him skating in Air Solo Flights and Stussy, taken by Bill Thomas and used in the teasers for ‘Deathbowl to Downtown’ is a classic.

RUST IN PIECE

Fuck a paragraph. Let a letterform do the talking. I’m not a crotchety boom-bap pensioner quite yet (just spent the last quarter of an hour marveling at the infinite ignorant potential of Gunplay’s Wrap Rock Ent. imprint) but in an era where a rapper only has to glance at a Jeff Koons painting or namecheck MGMT to be deemed abstract, hip-hop’s conservatism is still in effect. All the face tattoos and Bart pendants can’t alter that. Lil B might be the exception.

RAMMΣLLZΣΣ was a one-off. Anyone else remember the story about him wearing sneakers over sneakers?

Recent pieces in ‘SNEEZE’ (issue 6) and Dave Tompkins’ ‘How to Wreck a Nice Beach’ are worth your energies.