THE GIFT

I was seeing a girl who lived near Big City Records, so I introduced her to the Dapper Don of Discs. We'd wave when we walked by on the way to the bar and blow kisses on the way back.

One night, deep in Brooklyn, I danced like I never danced before. With her. We sweated and smiled all night as DJ Spinna played back-to-back Michael Jackson hits. I think our best moves* came out when we were getting down to Blame It On The Boogie. (*still horribly awkward looking, I'm sure)

 

As a Christmas gift, the girl went into Jared's shop and had him help her find this twelve inch for me.

Monk-One later showed me his copy with the extended percussion break in the middle. I don't blame Jared for not having this rare version on hand; but I did dump the girl that very night. These. Are. The Breaks!

A DOG A BONE

 We have a night where we all get together at our favorite bar. We geek out on records, throw back bourbon and beers, and stumble out to get Pakistani chick peas at twilight. 

I played this record,  one night and Wax Poetic's Mr. Mason came up to me to check if it was an original copy. I handed him the King sleeve and he raised his eyebrows and nodded in approval.

Good record stores know that if they throw in some really good deals, they'll get poor guys like me–who are willing to dig through gold to find reduced-price silver–to come back with a shovel and optimism week after week. For less than the cost of a chicken dinner, I was able to buy Street Cred! Look at me now, mom!! Whoops, just lost it.

FOLLOW THE CARROT

DRE DAY

One day the phone rang and I picked it up. On the other side of the line, from the other side of the country, was a producer from Interscope. He told me Eminem had listened to my latest mix CD and was ripping loops for Team Dre to bangout into hits. They came across one sample in particular that I had obfuscated with a Big Bird drop "that's like finding a noodle in a haystack" and were hoping I would provide them with a clean recording.

A few weeks before that, I had just finished hand-crafting this CD, Fresh Blood, which mixed samples from my favorite hiphop songs of that year, 2005. (I also crafted a CD, entitled Fresh Cuts, blending those hiphop songs which masterfully used the samples on display in Fresh Blood.) I designed, cut, glued and hand-stamped less than a hundred units. It was what we did back then. We didn't have the investment, nor the market demand, to create 1,000 digipaks. But we did have some support from certain record shops. Long time supporter Jared had thrown my CD in with an order of vinyl and shipped it to LA. On the strength.

FRESH BLOOD (without any drops)

FRESH CUTS (the hiphop addendum) 

TSL01

 Around the corner from The Sound Library–which budded off to birth Big City Records–owner Jared was casually thumbing thru records at a flea market before heading to work. He took his chances on an unmarked 7", gave the guy two bucks, and threw the record into his bag next to his bacon-egg-n-cheese.

He would get to store and drop the needle down to see what he had found...

Somewhere in Queens, the hair on the back of Q-Tip's neck would raise up. Surely, 20 miles away, PM Dawn got this tingly feeling in his fingers and turned the car around on I95. Large Pro, walking home from the store, would raise his head to the sky, drop his bag of bread and pickles, and dash off to the train. Pete Rock's powder-blue SUV almost busted through the storefront followed by what must have looked like a comic cover for the Black Avengers of Producers. Before Jared could finish off his Vitamin Water, his store was filled with NYC's top level beat diggers. Somehow they knew Jared had found something special and they all wanted it. 

And they would all get it.

Instead of transacting this one-of-a-kind gem for hundreds of dollars to the top bidder, Jared decided to do the exact opposite. He invested. Out of pocket, he paid to have this record recorded and pressed up in limited quantities. When I came in the next day, he told me this tale and handed me my copy.

TELL ME

 Everybody in Brooklyn loves Sharon Jones. Of course, I loved her first. Seriously tho, I will never forget seeing her in Black Betty (now Commodore Bar in Williamsburg, BK.) It was a tiny little space, even for a tiny little lady. 

A couple of years later I saw her after work in a park in Chelsea. And a year later I would begin to watch from a distance as she played Prospect Park, Jimmy Fallon, Jay Leno. . .

Jared gave me this record before it ever came out. For free.

FUNKSHONE

My partner in crime, DJ E's E, had been playing this record for a few months: Funkshone Purification 7". It absolutely devastated in our circuit (Kenny Dope just threw his hat in the ring to release an edit.) I was glad it was 'ours,' but like every beat addict, was sad that I couldn't find 'my' copy anywhere. 

But I became resigned to that fact... Perhaps one drunken night I would have the gumption to steal it from my best friend's basement. As it turned out tho, I didn't need to be that unscrupulous.

I strolled into the shop one day and on the counter—fanned out—lay four records from the label. "What are these?" I said. Jared replied, "Oh, the guy who runs this label just stopped in and dropped these off for me to listen to and try and sel-." Without letting them out of my hands, I cut him off. "Welp, they're mine now." I gave him some cash and we listened to this song together before I took off with my copy.

 

DAY ONE

 

 "Yo, most these rap cats don't know where it started, where it came from."

When you walk into Big City Records, everyone's a Big Deal in the Industry. I'd enter and Jared would stop what he's doing, give me a pound and call me by my handle as if to say, "Wowwww, look who just walked into the building! Onemaaaaaaaaannnn!!"  Of course, I'm no Big Deal. Especially if you consider the company I'd often find myself in. 

Pete Rock would be flipping through the rarest-of-rare box of 45s... Lord Finesse would be hunched over a turntable going through a tower of LPs in search of loops to flip.

So it makes sense, with all these legends passing through, that buying a used hiphop album would also mean buying a piece of its history. This LP, Lord Finesse Return of the Funky Man, epitomizes the art of turning old funk records into hiphop beats. And this copy has the fingerprints of the crew all over it.

Signed by Lord Finesse himself to fellow D.I.T.C. member OGEE, it's got stickers slapped on from the original pressings of Diamond D's first LP and Showbiz & AG's first 12". It's the kind of memorabilia that you could only find at Big City Records.

And THAT's a Big Deal!

An American eating Hamburgers

The record store where I got most of my rare funk, jazz, and soul was owned by an old curmudgeon and his salty-sweet wife. The place stunk of cigar smoke and dusty covers. I became a regular fixture there. I would visit at least once a week to make sure nothing slipped through my fingers into the next digger's eager empty palms. Part of that ritual also included visiting White Mana burgers across the street. The record store no longer exists; but if you're in the area, you'd be a fool not to grab a handful of those stinky little buns-of-joy being slung by the dozens from the paper-thin lady who seems to live behind the grill.

This double LP import contains all the songs from Herb Geller's Rhyme and Reason LP along with instrumentals.

STFU!!!

Familiar Faces?

These high school kids playing jazz thirty three years ago to the day is so endearing. And now that Herb Albert's Rise has entered an unlikely musical lexicon thanks to P-Diddy's effortless sampling prowess, any cover version has hypnotizing potential. This analog lacks the epic breakdown Puffiesque producers would use, and instead let's Robin Radus loose on the keys when the trumpeter's lips go numb. On the flip is The Lane Jazz Band's take on the jazz standard So What by Miles Davis. They loose the swing and phase the bassline over a rock drum beat.

GET FAMILIAR WITH IT

Brazilian Wax

Girls love Brazilian music. The lyrics sound romantic with just a touch of rough—like good sex. And, for the most part, the themes are sunny and optimistic. The bossa beat: playful. But anyone who has at least seen City of God knows that it's not all lush tropical paradise around the rio.

Brazil: Songs of Protest was released in the late sixties and is a counterpoint to the well known brazilian bossa sound that had such an influence on american jazz of that decade. Instead, these tracks are brooding and heavy, dark and melodic, and tell tales of suffering and pain—like really good sex.

THE DARK SIDE

Cut With Vigor

The Pazant Brothers are quintessential New Orleans Funk. But their records are harder to grab than a gatur in the grass. Perhaps the most elusive is a beast of a 45 with Chick A Boom on the underbelly. You would recognize it as the backing vocal chorus on Mainsource's Looking at the Front Door—a golden era staple.

In my edit, I emphasize the name-sake chant and tame the creole spices that often make this Big Easy Jam from 1973 taste a bit dated in two thousand whatever.

BOOM!!!

Good Grief!

My living room is home to thousands of obscure and hard hitting funk monsters. There's a section for library records, a section for hoctor/statler records, a section for school band funk . . . But when Monk-One stops by, all he seems to want to hear are piquant waltzes, fox trots and box steps. Who am I to deny this blockhead his fix of Charlie Brown jazz?

MERRY X-MAS