Click HERE to download for free
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Slaughterhouse - Microphone
Look closely & you catch the back of Frequency's head behind Royce during the first verse.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Monday, November 2, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
Crooked I - You Shoulda Made A Phone Call (Produced by Frequency)
Um, why didn't I know that this dropped?
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Joell Ortiz - "Sunday Hangover" (Produced by DJ Emz)
Joell stay spittin' over my peoples' beats, shun! Whattup Emz!!
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Monday, October 19, 2009
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Monday, October 5, 2009
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Slaughterhouse in the NYT
When Two Rappers Collide, in Cyberspace and Elsewhere
By JON CARAMANICA
Published: August 13, 2009
It was curious, the sling encasing Joe Budden’s right arm on Wednesday night at the Canal Room — curious and uncommented upon. For a rapper so given to transmitting even the mundane details of his life to fans, the omission was notable.
Less than a week earlier Mr. Budden had posted a video online in which he held a compress to his right temple. “My eye’s swollen,” he noted, and he complained about pain in his shoulder. The reason? He had just been attacked by Raekwon and his entourage, he said, the latest in a string of incidents in what had been until that point a war of words with various members of the Wu-Tang Clan.
On Wednesday night both Mr. Budden and Raekwon performed in New York — Raekwon in a Staten Island park and Mr. Budden with his group, Slaughterhouse, at the Canal Room — and for the most part kept the tensions at arm’s length. But the battle between them, and the larger one from which it stems, has revealed a clash not only of egos but also of generations and technologies.
In May Vibe magazine presented a fan-voted online bracket to determine “The Best Rapper Ever,” the sort of content intended to stir debate. Mr. Budden, speaking in a video posted online, made some disparaging comments about Method Man, who was ranked above him, leading to a flurry of recriminations in radio interviews and YouTube videos. Eventually the two men appeared to reconcile.
Nevertheless, members of the notoriously scattered Wu-Tang Clan, icons of 1990s hip-hop, have rallied. Inspectah Deck released a song in retaliation, and now Raekwon seems to have taken up the battle.
The supposed attack took place backstage at the Los Angeles date of the Rock the Bells tour, at which both Raekwon and Slaughterhouse were performing. According to Mr. Budden and Mickey Factz, another rapper in the room at the time, the incident was being filmed by a member of Raekwon’s camp, presumably so that Mr. Budden’s primary tool, the Internet, could later be used against him.
If so, it was a mark of modern savvy on the part of Raekwon, a product of the 1990s, an era in which hip-hop beefs were just as likely to play out behind closed doors as on records. And even though Raekwon has been steadily releasing music since his breakthrough 1995 album, “Only Built 4 Cuban Linx ... ” (Loud), he remains a classicist. In going online with his gripes about the Vibe list, Mr. Budden was working from an updated playbook, one that most likely caught Raekwon and Method Man, used to the unchallenged public respect of their successors, off guard.
More than almost any other rapper, Mr. Budden has taken to the Internet with ease; he is an active video blogger and Twitter user. In his postings he is alternately comic, irascible, self-deprecating and sharp-tongued. In short, a quintessential Internet celebrity.
Mr. Budden’s online presence has also helped sustain his career since he parted ways with his former label, Def Jam, following one album. Slaughterhouse, his new group, is a quartet of hip-hop formalists — Mr. Budden, Crooked I, Joell Ortiz, Royce da 5’9” — of the sort prized by bloggers. Its strong self-titled debut album, on E1, almost feels as if it had been willed into existence by Internet chatter.
At the Canal Room, in a showcase presented by the radio station Hot 97 (WQHT-FM), Slaughterhouse performed a handful of songs from that album, which was released Tuesday. It was a spirited show, with each rapper standing in awe of the others and then trying to out-rap them. When Mr. Budden demurred from performing “Pump It Up,” his biggest hit, Mr. Ortiz stepped in and did it for him. (Mr. Budden later joined in.)
Just before that Mr. Budden had said, in mock exasperation: “I got a bad arm. My shoulder’s bad.” It was the only reference, albeit an oblique one, that he made to the Raekwon incident during this show; he wisely let the flames die down, at least for one night. (After the show, his manager, Crystal Isaacs, insisted that the sling was needed after Mr. Budden dislocated his shoulder earlier on Wednesday, not in the attack.)
Perhaps, though, Raekwon has learned a few tricks by studying his adversary. He too has an album to promote: “Only Built for Cuban Linx ... Pt. II” (IceH2O/EMI), due next month. And for an artist of the old guard of the street-team era, he’s done an impressive job of transitioning his marketing strategy online.
He still raises real-world concern, though, as evinced Wednesday evening when he performed at Mahoney Playground, in the New Brighton section of Staten Island. The show was part of the CityParks Concerts series, organized in partnership with the New York City Department of Parks and Recreation. But with a few dozen police officers securing the premises (including some on the roof of the nearby housing project), this show barely had the feel of a concert.
It was a setup clearly anticipating something far more sinister than the few hundred peaceable fans who turned out to see Raekwon, a local kid turned folk hero. With hundreds of barricades arranged in draconian warrens, the closest fans were left some 20 feet from the stage. “Is it a way for the people to come a little bit closer?” Raekwon asked after his first couple of songs. “I need them a little bit closer, y’all.”
Realizing that the fans couldn’t come to him, at the opening notes of “Daytona 500” he climbed down from the stage and made his way to them, a swarm of police officers and park security in his wake. (Notably, there was a far smaller police presence at the Slaughterhouse concert.)
A few minutes later, having made his point, he returned to the stage, then offered something of an olive branch. “We love Joe,” he said, either in jest or out of deference to the moment. “Tell Joe we love him.”
And by the end of his brief set he had turned reflective. “This is a big privilege for Staten Island. This is something we got to take advantage of,” he said of the park show, which was free to the public. “Enough is enough. All the negativity got to turn to positivity.” Then he thanked the local precinct, the 120th, adding: “Please let us have this. We’ll keep it under control.”
SOURCE
By JON CARAMANICA
Published: August 13, 2009
It was curious, the sling encasing Joe Budden’s right arm on Wednesday night at the Canal Room — curious and uncommented upon. For a rapper so given to transmitting even the mundane details of his life to fans, the omission was notable.
Less than a week earlier Mr. Budden had posted a video online in which he held a compress to his right temple. “My eye’s swollen,” he noted, and he complained about pain in his shoulder. The reason? He had just been attacked by Raekwon and his entourage, he said, the latest in a string of incidents in what had been until that point a war of words with various members of the Wu-Tang Clan.
On Wednesday night both Mr. Budden and Raekwon performed in New York — Raekwon in a Staten Island park and Mr. Budden with his group, Slaughterhouse, at the Canal Room — and for the most part kept the tensions at arm’s length. But the battle between them, and the larger one from which it stems, has revealed a clash not only of egos but also of generations and technologies.
In May Vibe magazine presented a fan-voted online bracket to determine “The Best Rapper Ever,” the sort of content intended to stir debate. Mr. Budden, speaking in a video posted online, made some disparaging comments about Method Man, who was ranked above him, leading to a flurry of recriminations in radio interviews and YouTube videos. Eventually the two men appeared to reconcile.
Nevertheless, members of the notoriously scattered Wu-Tang Clan, icons of 1990s hip-hop, have rallied. Inspectah Deck released a song in retaliation, and now Raekwon seems to have taken up the battle.
The supposed attack took place backstage at the Los Angeles date of the Rock the Bells tour, at which both Raekwon and Slaughterhouse were performing. According to Mr. Budden and Mickey Factz, another rapper in the room at the time, the incident was being filmed by a member of Raekwon’s camp, presumably so that Mr. Budden’s primary tool, the Internet, could later be used against him.
If so, it was a mark of modern savvy on the part of Raekwon, a product of the 1990s, an era in which hip-hop beefs were just as likely to play out behind closed doors as on records. And even though Raekwon has been steadily releasing music since his breakthrough 1995 album, “Only Built 4 Cuban Linx ... ” (Loud), he remains a classicist. In going online with his gripes about the Vibe list, Mr. Budden was working from an updated playbook, one that most likely caught Raekwon and Method Man, used to the unchallenged public respect of their successors, off guard.
More than almost any other rapper, Mr. Budden has taken to the Internet with ease; he is an active video blogger and Twitter user. In his postings he is alternately comic, irascible, self-deprecating and sharp-tongued. In short, a quintessential Internet celebrity.
Mr. Budden’s online presence has also helped sustain his career since he parted ways with his former label, Def Jam, following one album. Slaughterhouse, his new group, is a quartet of hip-hop formalists — Mr. Budden, Crooked I, Joell Ortiz, Royce da 5’9” — of the sort prized by bloggers. Its strong self-titled debut album, on E1, almost feels as if it had been willed into existence by Internet chatter.
At the Canal Room, in a showcase presented by the radio station Hot 97 (WQHT-FM), Slaughterhouse performed a handful of songs from that album, which was released Tuesday. It was a spirited show, with each rapper standing in awe of the others and then trying to out-rap them. When Mr. Budden demurred from performing “Pump It Up,” his biggest hit, Mr. Ortiz stepped in and did it for him. (Mr. Budden later joined in.)
Just before that Mr. Budden had said, in mock exasperation: “I got a bad arm. My shoulder’s bad.” It was the only reference, albeit an oblique one, that he made to the Raekwon incident during this show; he wisely let the flames die down, at least for one night. (After the show, his manager, Crystal Isaacs, insisted that the sling was needed after Mr. Budden dislocated his shoulder earlier on Wednesday, not in the attack.)
Perhaps, though, Raekwon has learned a few tricks by studying his adversary. He too has an album to promote: “Only Built for Cuban Linx ... Pt. II” (IceH2O/EMI), due next month. And for an artist of the old guard of the street-team era, he’s done an impressive job of transitioning his marketing strategy online.
He still raises real-world concern, though, as evinced Wednesday evening when he performed at Mahoney Playground, in the New Brighton section of Staten Island. The show was part of the CityParks Concerts series, organized in partnership with the New York City Department of Parks and Recreation. But with a few dozen police officers securing the premises (including some on the roof of the nearby housing project), this show barely had the feel of a concert.
It was a setup clearly anticipating something far more sinister than the few hundred peaceable fans who turned out to see Raekwon, a local kid turned folk hero. With hundreds of barricades arranged in draconian warrens, the closest fans were left some 20 feet from the stage. “Is it a way for the people to come a little bit closer?” Raekwon asked after his first couple of songs. “I need them a little bit closer, y’all.”
Realizing that the fans couldn’t come to him, at the opening notes of “Daytona 500” he climbed down from the stage and made his way to them, a swarm of police officers and park security in his wake. (Notably, there was a far smaller police presence at the Slaughterhouse concert.)
A few minutes later, having made his point, he returned to the stage, then offered something of an olive branch. “We love Joe,” he said, either in jest or out of deference to the moment. “Tell Joe we love him.”
And by the end of his brief set he had turned reflective. “This is a big privilege for Staten Island. This is something we got to take advantage of,” he said of the park show, which was free to the public. “Enough is enough. All the negativity got to turn to positivity.” Then he thanked the local precinct, the 120th, adding: “Please let us have this. We’ll keep it under control.”
SOURCE
Friday, August 14, 2009
Thursday, August 6, 2009
New Trackstar the DJ and Frequency mixtape
Click HERE to download
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Trackstar the DJ and Frequency Release “Welcome to the Freq Show”
New York, New York – August 6, 2009 – Trackstar the DJ, known for his work with The Smoking Section as well as his Boogie Bang mixtape series, along with Frequency, the New York based producer/DJ who has collaborated with Snoop Dogg and Slaughterhouse, have released “Welcome to the Freq Show,” a mixtape featuring the best of Frequency’s production work.
Frequency, who is currently serving as the tour DJ for Slaughterhouse, got his start producing for the underground Hip-Hop group The Understudies, a group he formed with emcees 6th Sense and Mr. Tibbs in 2002. Over the last several years, Frequency has built his name up by producing tracks for artists ranging from Snoop Dogg to Lil’ Kim to Ja Rule to Keyshia Cole, collaborating with the Trackmasters, and DJing at various venues throughout New York City. He also has a knack for developing new acts and recently signed his first artist, the pop singer/songwriter Adair (www.myspace.com/TruthAsAdair) through his production company Freq Show Music.
Hailing from St. Louis, Mo., Trackstar the DJ is known for his prolific mixtape production and their consistent quality. With a catalog over 70 mixtapes deep, he releases over 20 mixtapes a year including series such as Boogie Bang (highlighting the newest Hip-Hop releases) and Still Dreamin (a series mixing Soul and Hip-Hop), along with concept mixes such as The Guest Chamber: Best of Wu-Tang Guest Appearances. Trackstar mixtapes have been hosted by the likes of Lupe Fiasco, Royce da 5'9", Killer Mike, Phonte (of Little Brother), Naledge (of Kidz in the Hall), DJ Drama, Peter Rosenberg (Hot97) and Psycho Les (of The Beatnuts), among others. His association with influential blog smokingsection.net has cemented his place among Hip-Hop's tastemakers.
While Frequency’s full discography is too large to fit on one mixtape, “Welcome to the Freq Show” is a sampling of some of Frequency’s best work. It features songs with Snoop Dogg, The Game, Slaughterhouse, Cam’ron, Ghostface Killah, Raekwon, Ja Rule, Ras Kass, Wais P., Juganot, A. Pinks, EMC (for whom Frequency served as tour DJ during their summer 2008 European tour) and of course 6th Sense (whose debut LP “Highing Fly” was almost exclusively produced by Frequency). As an extra bonus, “Welcome to the Freq Show” features “PTSD (Panic Attack),” which is the first official release by Adair.
For all inquiries regarding Frequency, please e-mail Still.Legal@gmail.com.
For all inquiries regarding Trackstar the DJ, please e-mail djtrackstar@gmail.com.
www.myspace.com/FreqShowMusic
www.djtrackstar.com
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
Adair performs live at Rock The Bells with Slaughterhouse
Shout out to Jessie Maguire on the video...More footage coming real soon...
Joe Budden Freestyle followed by "The One" featuring Adair...BTW, no it's not her on the album, but hey, she still killed it!
Joe Budden Freestyle followed by "The One" featuring Adair...BTW, no it's not her on the album, but hey, she still killed it!
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Monday, June 15, 2009
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Monday, June 1, 2009
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Sunday, May 10, 2009
New JoeBuddenTV episode featuring Frequency
Peep Freq leave the room when Joe starts airin' rappers out (c) Jose
Friday, May 8, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
New Slaughterhouse video - "Move On"
Check out the Frequency cameo...He's the blurry white face on the 1s and 2s in the background.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
NYT pans the Keri Hilson album
“In a Perfect World ...”
(Mosley Music Group/Zone 4/Interscope)
Two years ago Keri Hilson was the sweet-voiced singer on “The Way I Are,” the bizarre song — part soul, part industrial, part rap — that turned the superstar hip-hop producer Timbaland into a pop star in his own right. Singing light lyrics of devotion while buried under sheaves of synthesizers, she barely registered, though, sounding more like an automaton chirping out notes and sentiments on command.
But can you blame her for being a bit chilly? There is no less sexy a duet partner than Timbaland, who, in the vocal booth at least, has no sense of subtlety, rapping in a broad, jolly gurgle. The unfortunate pairing is reprised on “Return the Favor,” which appears on Ms. Hilson’s debut album and encapsulates the record’s shortcomings.
Ms. Hilson is clobbered on all sides by ornate production — largely by Timbaland and Polow Da Don — throughout this album, which favors texture and rhythm over melody or feeling. Sometimes, as on the slinky single “Turnin’ Me On” (featuring Lil Wayne), the busyness coheres, with Ms. Hilson neatly gliding among the song’s many layers. And she may need the crutch; she is a careful, slight singer.
But she’s often inventive, approaching the beat from odd angles and picking unexpected moments for rhyme. She also does much of her own vocal arranging. As part of the writing-producing collective the Clutch, she’s helped shape songs like Omarion’s magnificently gothic “Ice Box” and Usher’s squealing “Red Light.”
Knowing how best to frame other singers, though, hasn’t helped Ms. Hilson make better decisions for herself. Her sharpest moments are also the least frequent ones here: the uncluttered ones. The excellent “Slow Dance” sounds like a mid-1980s Prince ballad, sparkly and psychedelic, and the album’s high point, “Alienated,” is an alluring cloud-covered plea to an ex in which Ms. Hilson alternates between singing and a sort of whispered rap. (It also inspires some of her quirkiest lyrics: “I’m here wishing you would stop by my place/but the only time we talk is on MySpace.”) Notably, these are two of the only songs here not produced by Timbaland or Polow Da Don. Giving Ms. Hilson room to breathe, these producers — King Solomon Logan and Cory Bold — clearly see something in her other than decoration, something she has perhaps yet to see in herself. JON CARAMANICA
(Mosley Music Group/Zone 4/Interscope)
Two years ago Keri Hilson was the sweet-voiced singer on “The Way I Are,” the bizarre song — part soul, part industrial, part rap — that turned the superstar hip-hop producer Timbaland into a pop star in his own right. Singing light lyrics of devotion while buried under sheaves of synthesizers, she barely registered, though, sounding more like an automaton chirping out notes and sentiments on command.
But can you blame her for being a bit chilly? There is no less sexy a duet partner than Timbaland, who, in the vocal booth at least, has no sense of subtlety, rapping in a broad, jolly gurgle. The unfortunate pairing is reprised on “Return the Favor,” which appears on Ms. Hilson’s debut album and encapsulates the record’s shortcomings.
Ms. Hilson is clobbered on all sides by ornate production — largely by Timbaland and Polow Da Don — throughout this album, which favors texture and rhythm over melody or feeling. Sometimes, as on the slinky single “Turnin’ Me On” (featuring Lil Wayne), the busyness coheres, with Ms. Hilson neatly gliding among the song’s many layers. And she may need the crutch; she is a careful, slight singer.
But she’s often inventive, approaching the beat from odd angles and picking unexpected moments for rhyme. She also does much of her own vocal arranging. As part of the writing-producing collective the Clutch, she’s helped shape songs like Omarion’s magnificently gothic “Ice Box” and Usher’s squealing “Red Light.”
Knowing how best to frame other singers, though, hasn’t helped Ms. Hilson make better decisions for herself. Her sharpest moments are also the least frequent ones here: the uncluttered ones. The excellent “Slow Dance” sounds like a mid-1980s Prince ballad, sparkly and psychedelic, and the album’s high point, “Alienated,” is an alluring cloud-covered plea to an ex in which Ms. Hilson alternates between singing and a sort of whispered rap. (It also inspires some of her quirkiest lyrics: “I’m here wishing you would stop by my place/but the only time we talk is on MySpace.”) Notably, these are two of the only songs here not produced by Timbaland or Polow Da Don. Giving Ms. Hilson room to breathe, these producers — King Solomon Logan and Cory Bold — clearly see something in her other than decoration, something she has perhaps yet to see in herself. JON CARAMANICA
Sunday, March 22, 2009
NYT Continues their Hip-Hop Coverage
Straight Out of Hollis
By JAMES ANGELOS
Published: March 20, 2009
IT was a Friday night earlier this month, and Shokanni McKen and Roy Manson, two of the three members of the rap group known as the Hollis Boyz, were sitting in Mr. McKen’s Nissan Maxima off a quiet street in Hollis, Queens, listening to the group’s new recordings in the CD player.
Mr. McKen, a 21-year-old who calls himself T-Y, and Mr. Manson, a 22-year-old who goes by the name R.Dot, bobbed their heads as the sound filled the car, parked in the driveway of a red-brick house on 204th Street where Mr. McKen lives with his mother. Then they began to rap along to a song about prevailing over a life defined by guns and drug dealing.
“Million-dollar dreams with a welfare check,” Mr. Manson chanted in a mellow monotone.
In a deep, raspy voice, Mr. McKen chimed in, “There’s nothing I’m confined to, anything I put my mind and my grind to.”
Together they sang the refrain:
When I was a young boy coming up, dreams to make it big
and live it up.
I wonder if I’ll make it.
The Hollis Boyz are among several Hollis rappers famous only in their neighborhood and struggling to make it big or, as local residents say, to go “from Hollis to Hollywood.” In this pursuit, they are encouraged by the successes of other Hollis rappers and the neighborhood’s remarkably rich hip-hop legacy.
On April 4, the hip-hop group Run-DMC, which emerged from Hollis in the early 1980s and is regarded as among the pioneers of the genre, will be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. The group — consisting of Joseph Simmons, known as Run; Darryl McDaniels, called DMC; and Jason Mizell, the D.J. Jam Master Jay, who was killed in 2002 — is only the second hip-hop act to receive this honor; Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five from the Bronx were inducted in 2007.
Run-DMC was managed by another Hollis native, the hip-hop impresario Russell Simmons, Run’s brother, who helped found the legendary label Def Jam Recordings.
•
Hollis, an enclave of 23,000 people in eastern Queens, not far from Jamaica, is a largely African-American neighborhood with a more recent population of West Indian immigrants and a paradoxical character.
The community has a suburban feel and is home to working- and middle-class families who live in snug one- and two-family Colonials with small front lawns. Yet Hollis has long been troubled by drugs and gun violence, which belie the neighborhood’s tranquil appearance and which became especially severe during the crack epidemic of the late ’80s.
Run-DMC and Russell Simmons are local heroes in a community where a strong sense of small-town pride endures among those who have made good. A notable symbol of this pride is the Hollis Hip Hop Museum, a shrine to the neighborhood’s musical past that opened in February inside Hollis Famous Burgers, a restaurant at Hollis Avenue and 203rd Street.
The museum, whose collection covers the walls of the restaurant, consists most prominently of Run-DMC memorabilia, among which are gold and platinum records donated by Mr. McDaniels. A plastic display case holds the gold chain, black fedora (then known as a godfather hat) and black-and-white Adidas sneakers (or “shell toes”) that were the group’s signature regalia.
“I’m trying to get kids to understand, this is like Motown,” Orville Hall, the restaurant’s owner, said one recent Sunday as he served tilapia and collard greens to a customer, a plastic apron tied around his stomach. “This is one of the most music influential neighborhoods in the country.”
Run-DMC was the first rap group to have a platinum record, the first to have a video on MTV and the first to appear on the cover of Rolling Stone. But the rappers were far from the only performers in Hollis in the early ’80s. In good weather, local parks and street corners were routinely transformed into performance spaces, with D.J.’s plugging in their turntables and M.C.’s rhyming over the beats before a crowd of revelers.
Such scenes no longer play out in Hollis. The new generation of local rappers are more likely to take their music to YouTube or MySpace, and many residents speak wistfully about the neighborhood’s bygone musical heyday and lament a lost sense of community.
In some eyes, the restaurant restores a little of that feeling. And for the Hollis Boyz, who can often be found hanging out there at night, it is a shrine not only to the past but also to the possible future.
“These people were like us,” Mr. McKen said one afternoon over fried chicken and pancakes, framed by images of the famous people on the walls. “People just around the corner.”
‘Funky Fresh’
Run-DMC’s first video on MTV, in 1984, was for the tune “Rock Box,” which begins with a professorial-looking man with frizzy white hair asking, “What is rap music?” The following year, an MTV camera crew visited Hollis to film the three as they rapped their way down Hollis Avenue.
READ THE REST
By JAMES ANGELOS
Published: March 20, 2009
IT was a Friday night earlier this month, and Shokanni McKen and Roy Manson, two of the three members of the rap group known as the Hollis Boyz, were sitting in Mr. McKen’s Nissan Maxima off a quiet street in Hollis, Queens, listening to the group’s new recordings in the CD player.
Mr. McKen, a 21-year-old who calls himself T-Y, and Mr. Manson, a 22-year-old who goes by the name R.Dot, bobbed their heads as the sound filled the car, parked in the driveway of a red-brick house on 204th Street where Mr. McKen lives with his mother. Then they began to rap along to a song about prevailing over a life defined by guns and drug dealing.
“Million-dollar dreams with a welfare check,” Mr. Manson chanted in a mellow monotone.
In a deep, raspy voice, Mr. McKen chimed in, “There’s nothing I’m confined to, anything I put my mind and my grind to.”
Together they sang the refrain:
When I was a young boy coming up, dreams to make it big
and live it up.
I wonder if I’ll make it.
The Hollis Boyz are among several Hollis rappers famous only in their neighborhood and struggling to make it big or, as local residents say, to go “from Hollis to Hollywood.” In this pursuit, they are encouraged by the successes of other Hollis rappers and the neighborhood’s remarkably rich hip-hop legacy.
On April 4, the hip-hop group Run-DMC, which emerged from Hollis in the early 1980s and is regarded as among the pioneers of the genre, will be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. The group — consisting of Joseph Simmons, known as Run; Darryl McDaniels, called DMC; and Jason Mizell, the D.J. Jam Master Jay, who was killed in 2002 — is only the second hip-hop act to receive this honor; Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five from the Bronx were inducted in 2007.
Run-DMC was managed by another Hollis native, the hip-hop impresario Russell Simmons, Run’s brother, who helped found the legendary label Def Jam Recordings.
•
Hollis, an enclave of 23,000 people in eastern Queens, not far from Jamaica, is a largely African-American neighborhood with a more recent population of West Indian immigrants and a paradoxical character.
The community has a suburban feel and is home to working- and middle-class families who live in snug one- and two-family Colonials with small front lawns. Yet Hollis has long been troubled by drugs and gun violence, which belie the neighborhood’s tranquil appearance and which became especially severe during the crack epidemic of the late ’80s.
Run-DMC and Russell Simmons are local heroes in a community where a strong sense of small-town pride endures among those who have made good. A notable symbol of this pride is the Hollis Hip Hop Museum, a shrine to the neighborhood’s musical past that opened in February inside Hollis Famous Burgers, a restaurant at Hollis Avenue and 203rd Street.
The museum, whose collection covers the walls of the restaurant, consists most prominently of Run-DMC memorabilia, among which are gold and platinum records donated by Mr. McDaniels. A plastic display case holds the gold chain, black fedora (then known as a godfather hat) and black-and-white Adidas sneakers (or “shell toes”) that were the group’s signature regalia.
“I’m trying to get kids to understand, this is like Motown,” Orville Hall, the restaurant’s owner, said one recent Sunday as he served tilapia and collard greens to a customer, a plastic apron tied around his stomach. “This is one of the most music influential neighborhoods in the country.”
Run-DMC was the first rap group to have a platinum record, the first to have a video on MTV and the first to appear on the cover of Rolling Stone. But the rappers were far from the only performers in Hollis in the early ’80s. In good weather, local parks and street corners were routinely transformed into performance spaces, with D.J.’s plugging in their turntables and M.C.’s rhyming over the beats before a crowd of revelers.
Such scenes no longer play out in Hollis. The new generation of local rappers are more likely to take their music to YouTube or MySpace, and many residents speak wistfully about the neighborhood’s bygone musical heyday and lament a lost sense of community.
In some eyes, the restaurant restores a little of that feeling. And for the Hollis Boyz, who can often be found hanging out there at night, it is a shrine not only to the past but also to the possible future.
“These people were like us,” Mr. McKen said one afternoon over fried chicken and pancakes, framed by images of the famous people on the walls. “People just around the corner.”
‘Funky Fresh’
Run-DMC’s first video on MTV, in 1984, was for the tune “Rock Box,” which begins with a professorial-looking man with frizzy white hair asking, “What is rap music?” The following year, an MTV camera crew visited Hollis to film the three as they rapped their way down Hollis Avenue.
READ THE REST
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
NYT reviews Busta Rhymes concert
A Little Nip and a Toast, Before Revisiting a Recession-Proof Songbook
By JON CARAMANICA
Published: March 11, 2009
A few songs in to his set at B. B. King Blues Club & Grill on Tuesday night Busta Rhymes proposed a toast, pouring himself a little nip from a bottle of Courvoisier. He wanted to celebrate the election of President Obama and also the resurgence of New York as a relevant hip-hop scene. “I know it’s a recession,” he said. “If you don’t have a drink, put your imaginary drink up.” He was greeted by as many empty hands as full ones, maybe more.
For well over a decade Busta Rhymes has been remarkably recession-proof, outlasting dozens of artists he has collaborated with by being resilient, flexible and stylistically agnostic — there’s no sound he has thumbed his nose at. Many of his most notable songs aren’t even his own; they’re guest verses on other people’s records. It helps, if you seek longevity, to have no apparent need for superstardom.
His entertaining start-stop tour through his catalog on Tuesday covered more than 20 songs and skipped plenty of great ones. But what he performed was a testament to versatility: songs that emphasize his Jamaican heritage, “Make It Clap” and “Uh Ooh (remix)”; roughneck anthems, “Ante Up (remix),” on which he was joined by the rowdy M.O.P.; collaborations with Mariah Carey, “I Know What You Want,” with Ms. Carey sadly absent. Nothing from his early days with Leaders of the New School, though.
If Busta Rhymes has had a signature sound, it was the digital bounce he perfected at midcareer — “Woo Hah!! Got You All in Check,” “Put Your Hands Where My Eyes Could See” — party records that also featured impressive, if monotone, vocal calisthenics.
Calisthenics he wanted the crowd here to take note of. On “Break Ya Neck” he repeated his rhymes three times in case people weren’t paying attention. And that was just one of several old showman gimmicks he employed. He and his longtime hype man Spliff Star formed a charming comic duo, like two students in an improv workshop cooking up scenes: dance routines, exaggerated facial expressions, funny voices. During “Put Your Hands Where My Eyes Could See,” Busta Rhymes went from loud to soft and back while Spliff Star mimed turning a key next to his mouth, as if manually adjusting the volume.
Several guests joined Busta Rhymes throughout the night: M.O.P.; the dancehall star Beenie Man; and a trio of young Brooklyn rappers, the brawny Maino, the grim Uncle Murda, the surprisingly catchy Red Cafe. They all came back out at the end of the show to form a united front during the glorious, tacky “Arab Money,” which was a minor hit for Busta Rhymes late last year (with an accompanying dance), and is almost certainly the only rap song to ever mention the billionaire Prince al-Waleed bin Talal al-Saud.
They were joined by its producer, Ron Browz, who sang the song’s nonsensical, fake-Arabic hook and wore not one but two diamond-encrusted chains that read “Ether Boy,” the name of his record label. (He had opened the show with a set that was short, clunky and mercifully steamrolled by a guest appearance from Juelz Santana.)
Earlier Busta Rhymes had gathered the young Brooklyn rappers together at center stage — a grouping he referred to as the Conglomerate, after his recent single — and proclaimed a new era for New York hip-hop. He has played with so many teams, so why not this one?
“We’re going to start repping this city right,” he said, boasting that all the rappers would appear in one another’s videos as a show of support, and promising “a lot of cars, a lot of money, a lot of jewelry.” Later he sprayed Champagne over the crowd as if it were still the late Clinton era. For a minute, at least, there was no recession to speak of.
Source
By JON CARAMANICA
Published: March 11, 2009
A few songs in to his set at B. B. King Blues Club & Grill on Tuesday night Busta Rhymes proposed a toast, pouring himself a little nip from a bottle of Courvoisier. He wanted to celebrate the election of President Obama and also the resurgence of New York as a relevant hip-hop scene. “I know it’s a recession,” he said. “If you don’t have a drink, put your imaginary drink up.” He was greeted by as many empty hands as full ones, maybe more.
For well over a decade Busta Rhymes has been remarkably recession-proof, outlasting dozens of artists he has collaborated with by being resilient, flexible and stylistically agnostic — there’s no sound he has thumbed his nose at. Many of his most notable songs aren’t even his own; they’re guest verses on other people’s records. It helps, if you seek longevity, to have no apparent need for superstardom.
His entertaining start-stop tour through his catalog on Tuesday covered more than 20 songs and skipped plenty of great ones. But what he performed was a testament to versatility: songs that emphasize his Jamaican heritage, “Make It Clap” and “Uh Ooh (remix)”; roughneck anthems, “Ante Up (remix),” on which he was joined by the rowdy M.O.P.; collaborations with Mariah Carey, “I Know What You Want,” with Ms. Carey sadly absent. Nothing from his early days with Leaders of the New School, though.
If Busta Rhymes has had a signature sound, it was the digital bounce he perfected at midcareer — “Woo Hah!! Got You All in Check,” “Put Your Hands Where My Eyes Could See” — party records that also featured impressive, if monotone, vocal calisthenics.
Calisthenics he wanted the crowd here to take note of. On “Break Ya Neck” he repeated his rhymes three times in case people weren’t paying attention. And that was just one of several old showman gimmicks he employed. He and his longtime hype man Spliff Star formed a charming comic duo, like two students in an improv workshop cooking up scenes: dance routines, exaggerated facial expressions, funny voices. During “Put Your Hands Where My Eyes Could See,” Busta Rhymes went from loud to soft and back while Spliff Star mimed turning a key next to his mouth, as if manually adjusting the volume.
Several guests joined Busta Rhymes throughout the night: M.O.P.; the dancehall star Beenie Man; and a trio of young Brooklyn rappers, the brawny Maino, the grim Uncle Murda, the surprisingly catchy Red Cafe. They all came back out at the end of the show to form a united front during the glorious, tacky “Arab Money,” which was a minor hit for Busta Rhymes late last year (with an accompanying dance), and is almost certainly the only rap song to ever mention the billionaire Prince al-Waleed bin Talal al-Saud.
They were joined by its producer, Ron Browz, who sang the song’s nonsensical, fake-Arabic hook and wore not one but two diamond-encrusted chains that read “Ether Boy,” the name of his record label. (He had opened the show with a set that was short, clunky and mercifully steamrolled by a guest appearance from Juelz Santana.)
Earlier Busta Rhymes had gathered the young Brooklyn rappers together at center stage — a grouping he referred to as the Conglomerate, after his recent single — and proclaimed a new era for New York hip-hop. He has played with so many teams, so why not this one?
“We’re going to start repping this city right,” he said, boasting that all the rappers would appear in one another’s videos as a show of support, and promising “a lot of cars, a lot of money, a lot of jewelry.” Later he sprayed Champagne over the crowd as if it were still the late Clinton era. For a minute, at least, there was no recession to speak of.
Source
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
NY Times reviews the Joe Budden album
JOE BUDDEN
“Padded Room”
(Amalgam Digital)
Joe Budden would like you to know that he’s fine. Just fine, thank you. Taking exception to an early review of “Padded Room,” this New Jersey rapper’s second proper solo album, that described him as frustrated with the record business, he took to the Internet to make one thing clear.
“Joe Budden fans, Internet soldiers, anyone else on the Internet, reviewers, critics, haters, chat room visitors,” he said, exhausted, in a clip posted on YouTube. “I am not frustrated with anything. I’m not frustrated with the Internet, the music industry, downloading, bloggers, vloggers, rappers, record sales, record labels, executives, radio.”
Fine, see?
Even though he was talking, not rapping, it still sounded like a lot of Joe Budden’s songs, which are generally more like monologues or, at times, harangues. A couple of early club-friendly hits notwithstanding, Mr. Budden has made much hay of his complex, often troubled inner life. “They say my symptoms are aggressive,” he raps here, on “Angel in My Life.” “They title me a compulsive obsessive-slash-manic depressive.” But really, he’s just a classic Woody Allen-level neurotic, worrying his issues until they’re rubbed raw.
That makes “Padded Room” a curious and often inspired album, a set of reflections in mirrors held up at different angles. On “If I Gotta Go,” as he has done before, he talks about his childhood gone bad: “Problem is, I’m smarter than everybody/But too numb to show it/and they too dumb to know it.” He chronicles despicable misbehavior with women on “I Couldn’t Help It.” And the stirring “Do Tell” is composed almost entirely of apologies. (To his father: “I tried to find myself, but I was your replica/I mean, I only tried to be what you never was.”)
But while Joe Budden is enamored of his rhymes, which are taut, intricate and structurally varied, he raps in a scraped-up monotone, a technician first and stylist second. Occasionally he’ll slip into a clipped bellow like Scarface to emphasize a point, but mostly he lets his words do the talking. And since he’s thinking hard, unforgiving of everyone including himself, it’s little wonder everyone thinks he’s frustrated. JON CARAMANICA
“Padded Room”
(Amalgam Digital)
Joe Budden would like you to know that he’s fine. Just fine, thank you. Taking exception to an early review of “Padded Room,” this New Jersey rapper’s second proper solo album, that described him as frustrated with the record business, he took to the Internet to make one thing clear.
“Joe Budden fans, Internet soldiers, anyone else on the Internet, reviewers, critics, haters, chat room visitors,” he said, exhausted, in a clip posted on YouTube. “I am not frustrated with anything. I’m not frustrated with the Internet, the music industry, downloading, bloggers, vloggers, rappers, record sales, record labels, executives, radio.”
Fine, see?
Even though he was talking, not rapping, it still sounded like a lot of Joe Budden’s songs, which are generally more like monologues or, at times, harangues. A couple of early club-friendly hits notwithstanding, Mr. Budden has made much hay of his complex, often troubled inner life. “They say my symptoms are aggressive,” he raps here, on “Angel in My Life.” “They title me a compulsive obsessive-slash-manic depressive.” But really, he’s just a classic Woody Allen-level neurotic, worrying his issues until they’re rubbed raw.
That makes “Padded Room” a curious and often inspired album, a set of reflections in mirrors held up at different angles. On “If I Gotta Go,” as he has done before, he talks about his childhood gone bad: “Problem is, I’m smarter than everybody/But too numb to show it/and they too dumb to know it.” He chronicles despicable misbehavior with women on “I Couldn’t Help It.” And the stirring “Do Tell” is composed almost entirely of apologies. (To his father: “I tried to find myself, but I was your replica/I mean, I only tried to be what you never was.”)
But while Joe Budden is enamored of his rhymes, which are taut, intricate and structurally varied, he raps in a scraped-up monotone, a technician first and stylist second. Occasionally he’ll slip into a clipped bellow like Scarface to emphasize a point, but mostly he lets his words do the talking. And since he’s thinking hard, unforgiving of everyone including himself, it’s little wonder everyone thinks he’s frustrated. JON CARAMANICA
Friday, February 20, 2009
DMC in the NYT
Putting Together a Hamburger, a Neighborhood and Hip-Hop
By COREY KILGANNON
Published: February 19, 2009
On a nondescript street corner in Hollis, Queens, a small — and quite affordable — burger joint opened recently.
The place, Hollis Famous Burgers, offers mini-burgers for $1; for that price diners get a complimentary viewing of the Hollis Hip Hop Museum. The word “museum” might be a bit of an overstatement, given the space, but the collection and what it celebrates are not, at least not to the people behind it.
There are more than 100 items on the walls testifying to the neighborhood as a fertile ground for hip-hop artists. Along with a helping of chicken wings, washed down with a cup of “Hollis Famous” lemonade, customers can examine the hit CDs of local rap legends, like Ja Rule, LL Cool J, and Irv Gotti, the founder of Murder Inc., the hip-hop record company that launched several careers.
“Hollis is our Motown, our Nashville, our Beale Street,” said Orville Hall, 42, the owner of the restaurant, and a childhood friend of the members of Run-DMC, which happens to be the best-represented rap group in the burger joint — rather, museum.
At the grand opening on Thursday afternoon, Mr. Hall explained that there was something about Hollis “back in the day” that seemed to nurture hip-hop artists. There was a keen desire for live D.J.’s and M.C.’s at local parties.
It was a working-class black neighborhood that was tough but not bleak. The rap lyrics from neighborhood artists had swagger but were clean enough to be offered to the mainstream.
Mr. Hall decided that Hollis, and perhaps his own business interests, would be best served by pairing a burger restaurant with the museum. On Thursday his venture got the blessing of DMC, whose real name is Darryl McDaniels and who recited a few of his famous lyrics.
Standing near his gold and platinum records, Mr. McDaniels said he wanted people in the neighborhood to use them as proof of the power of persistence to succeed, whatever the odds.
“Because we did something good, people in hoods all over the world were able to look at us and say, ‘Yo, I know what I can do, and I know what I can be.’ If you don’t believe it, then history is on the wall, homie.”
Mr. McDaniels donated one of his gold records (“Run-DMC”) and a platinum one (“Raising Hell”).
The location of the museum, at Hollis Avenue and 203rd Street, is not a glamorous one. Neighboring storefronts are shuttered with metal roll-down barricades tagged with graffiti and across the street, the windows of a building are boarded up.
Amid the celebration there was poignancy. Jam Master Jay, Run-DMC’s turntable master, did not live to see it. He grew up a few steps from the restaurant, on 203rd Street, where he was, earlier in life, known as Jason Mizell. He was shot and killed in 2002 in his recording studio on nearby Merrick Avenue. His murder remains unsolved.
The most prominent display in the museum is a large portrait of Mr. Mizell looking solemnly downward. The portrait bears the words “From Hollis to Hollywood.” A turntable and a display case with a pair of Adidas sneakers draped with a fat gold chain hang alongside.
Mr. McDaniels, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with the logo of the rock band AC/DC, arrived in a black Lincoln Navigator. He hugged the people he recognized.
There was Kenny Thompson, 41, who was once known as Kenny Krash for his flair on turntables when he played with — and worked for — Run-DMC. Now he drives a New York City Transit bus in Manhattan; he arrived straight from work, wearing his blue uniform.
There was Douglas Hayes, 44, who was known as the rapper Butter Love and who performed with Run-DMC on the single “It’s the Beat.”
There was Shannon Dennis who said he was a D.J. from Queens; he arrived with Run-DMC blasting from his 1980 canary yellow Cadillac. He was dressed as a member of the band, complete with black bowler hat and thick gold chain.
Mr. McDaniels said he hoped the museum would help heal the wound created by Mr. Mizell’s murder.
Mr. Hall said his desire to open a tribute to Run-DMC stretched back to the early 1980s when he first heard his friends performing “Sucker MCs” on the radio.
“I was shocked,” he said, “that local guys we knew could take their talent and make something of themselves, which is what rap is all about.”
By COREY KILGANNON
Published: February 19, 2009
On a nondescript street corner in Hollis, Queens, a small — and quite affordable — burger joint opened recently.
The place, Hollis Famous Burgers, offers mini-burgers for $1; for that price diners get a complimentary viewing of the Hollis Hip Hop Museum. The word “museum” might be a bit of an overstatement, given the space, but the collection and what it celebrates are not, at least not to the people behind it.
There are more than 100 items on the walls testifying to the neighborhood as a fertile ground for hip-hop artists. Along with a helping of chicken wings, washed down with a cup of “Hollis Famous” lemonade, customers can examine the hit CDs of local rap legends, like Ja Rule, LL Cool J, and Irv Gotti, the founder of Murder Inc., the hip-hop record company that launched several careers.
“Hollis is our Motown, our Nashville, our Beale Street,” said Orville Hall, 42, the owner of the restaurant, and a childhood friend of the members of Run-DMC, which happens to be the best-represented rap group in the burger joint — rather, museum.
At the grand opening on Thursday afternoon, Mr. Hall explained that there was something about Hollis “back in the day” that seemed to nurture hip-hop artists. There was a keen desire for live D.J.’s and M.C.’s at local parties.
It was a working-class black neighborhood that was tough but not bleak. The rap lyrics from neighborhood artists had swagger but were clean enough to be offered to the mainstream.
Mr. Hall decided that Hollis, and perhaps his own business interests, would be best served by pairing a burger restaurant with the museum. On Thursday his venture got the blessing of DMC, whose real name is Darryl McDaniels and who recited a few of his famous lyrics.
Standing near his gold and platinum records, Mr. McDaniels said he wanted people in the neighborhood to use them as proof of the power of persistence to succeed, whatever the odds.
“Because we did something good, people in hoods all over the world were able to look at us and say, ‘Yo, I know what I can do, and I know what I can be.’ If you don’t believe it, then history is on the wall, homie.”
Mr. McDaniels donated one of his gold records (“Run-DMC”) and a platinum one (“Raising Hell”).
The location of the museum, at Hollis Avenue and 203rd Street, is not a glamorous one. Neighboring storefronts are shuttered with metal roll-down barricades tagged with graffiti and across the street, the windows of a building are boarded up.
Amid the celebration there was poignancy. Jam Master Jay, Run-DMC’s turntable master, did not live to see it. He grew up a few steps from the restaurant, on 203rd Street, where he was, earlier in life, known as Jason Mizell. He was shot and killed in 2002 in his recording studio on nearby Merrick Avenue. His murder remains unsolved.
The most prominent display in the museum is a large portrait of Mr. Mizell looking solemnly downward. The portrait bears the words “From Hollis to Hollywood.” A turntable and a display case with a pair of Adidas sneakers draped with a fat gold chain hang alongside.
Mr. McDaniels, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with the logo of the rock band AC/DC, arrived in a black Lincoln Navigator. He hugged the people he recognized.
There was Kenny Thompson, 41, who was once known as Kenny Krash for his flair on turntables when he played with — and worked for — Run-DMC. Now he drives a New York City Transit bus in Manhattan; he arrived straight from work, wearing his blue uniform.
There was Douglas Hayes, 44, who was known as the rapper Butter Love and who performed with Run-DMC on the single “It’s the Beat.”
There was Shannon Dennis who said he was a D.J. from Queens; he arrived with Run-DMC blasting from his 1980 canary yellow Cadillac. He was dressed as a member of the band, complete with black bowler hat and thick gold chain.
Mr. McDaniels said he hoped the museum would help heal the wound created by Mr. Mizell’s murder.
Mr. Hall said his desire to open a tribute to Run-DMC stretched back to the early 1980s when he first heard his friends performing “Sucker MCs” on the radio.
“I was shocked,” he said, “that local guys we knew could take their talent and make something of themselves, which is what rap is all about.”
Friday, February 13, 2009
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Interesting Music Industy Piece in the New York Times
Facing the Music of a Heavy Debt
Charles O. Prince III, the deposed chief executive at Citigroup, probably didn’t mean it literally when he equated the credit boom to a musical dance. Mr. Prince may not have been a great banker, but he certainly was prescient.
Just this week, the company that pioneered easy listening in elevators, Muzak, filed for bankruptcy protection; Sirius XM Radio began preparing its own Chapter 11 filing; and Clear Channel Communications, the nation’s largest radio station owner, tapped a last-resort credit line.
What common refrain — apart from filling the air with dulcet tones — unites these three companies? They are all viable businesses suffering from a surfeit of debt. Like Mr. Prince’s former employer, they failed to stop hustling on the dance floor when they should have.
Investors and creditors are now paying the piper. Their stories provide the overture to the restructuring opera just beginning in corporate America.
Take Clear Channel. The private equity firms Bain Capital and THL Partners paid top dollar to win shareholder approval for their $27.5 billion buyout of the company in mid-2007. The price was later renegotiated, but clearly not by enough. Clear Channel had over $19 billion of borrowings at the end of its most recent quarter. This week it tapped the remaining $1.6 billion of a credit facility, sending its more senior loans to trade at just 45 cents on the dollar.
Radio advertising is linked to the economic cycle. But Clear Channel’s troubles have been intensified in this recession by the onset of competitors like satellite radio and the iPod. Local radio advertising fell a staggering 21 percent in November from the same month a year earlier, according to the Radio Advertising Bureau’s most recent figures. National advertising was down 25 percent.
If Clear Channel had a more forgiving capital structure, it would be better able to tough it out. The company made nearly $500 million in the third quarter, reflecting a nearly 30 percent operating margin. The trouble is that interest payments swallowed $312 million of that. As the downturn worsens, Clear Channel edges closer to breaching its debt covenants.
Muzak and Sirius have too much debt for the cash they are generating and now face the added burden of a liquidity squeeze. In the current environment they cannot raise money to refinance debt.
Sirius, for example, needs to repay $175 million by next week. It could bring in an equity investor willing to pay off the debt in return for control of the company, and John Malone of Liberty Media is said to be in talks. Sirius has the promise to be a very valuable business. And it should be — one day. But for now, its debt is a heavy burden.
Sirius has nearly 20 million subscribers and, despite the slump in the car sales that drive new satellite radio subscriptions, is still growing rapidly. The company should double its subscriber base over 10 years.
On that basis, it’s possible to determine a net present value for Sirius. Investors currently rate satellite TV subscribers at about $1,000 each. Satellite radio subscriptions cost less than half those of television, so let’s assume each customer may be worth $450. At 40 million customers, that’s a total value of about $18 billion by 2019.
Of course, a dollar that might show up tomorrow isn’t worth that much to shareholders today. So let’s discount back the value of those future subscribers by 15 percent annually. By that calculation, Sirius should be worth about $4.5 billion now, compared with a current enterprise value of $3.2 billion.
Muzak also looks pretty resilient, based on its model of providing playlists to retailers, restaurants and other businesses. Sales through the end of September held flat at $142 million, generating $49 million of earnings before interest, tax, depreciation and amortization.
But it had to fork over $35 million to service its $465 million debt pile. Muzak might have been able to muddle through the downturn by cutting costs. The problem is that all of Muzak’s debt comes due this quarter. Even if it could have raised the money, the interest payments would have been crippling.
Like Sirius and Clear Channel, Muzak will still be around in a few years, filling the airwaves with softened versions of Led Zeppelin songs. It will just emerge with a balance sheet scrubbed clean of previous excess. It’s a song that’s likely to be in heavy rotation for some time to come.
ROB COX, LAUREN SILVA LAUGHLIN and ROB CYRAN
Charles O. Prince III, the deposed chief executive at Citigroup, probably didn’t mean it literally when he equated the credit boom to a musical dance. Mr. Prince may not have been a great banker, but he certainly was prescient.
Just this week, the company that pioneered easy listening in elevators, Muzak, filed for bankruptcy protection; Sirius XM Radio began preparing its own Chapter 11 filing; and Clear Channel Communications, the nation’s largest radio station owner, tapped a last-resort credit line.
What common refrain — apart from filling the air with dulcet tones — unites these three companies? They are all viable businesses suffering from a surfeit of debt. Like Mr. Prince’s former employer, they failed to stop hustling on the dance floor when they should have.
Investors and creditors are now paying the piper. Their stories provide the overture to the restructuring opera just beginning in corporate America.
Take Clear Channel. The private equity firms Bain Capital and THL Partners paid top dollar to win shareholder approval for their $27.5 billion buyout of the company in mid-2007. The price was later renegotiated, but clearly not by enough. Clear Channel had over $19 billion of borrowings at the end of its most recent quarter. This week it tapped the remaining $1.6 billion of a credit facility, sending its more senior loans to trade at just 45 cents on the dollar.
Radio advertising is linked to the economic cycle. But Clear Channel’s troubles have been intensified in this recession by the onset of competitors like satellite radio and the iPod. Local radio advertising fell a staggering 21 percent in November from the same month a year earlier, according to the Radio Advertising Bureau’s most recent figures. National advertising was down 25 percent.
If Clear Channel had a more forgiving capital structure, it would be better able to tough it out. The company made nearly $500 million in the third quarter, reflecting a nearly 30 percent operating margin. The trouble is that interest payments swallowed $312 million of that. As the downturn worsens, Clear Channel edges closer to breaching its debt covenants.
Muzak and Sirius have too much debt for the cash they are generating and now face the added burden of a liquidity squeeze. In the current environment they cannot raise money to refinance debt.
Sirius, for example, needs to repay $175 million by next week. It could bring in an equity investor willing to pay off the debt in return for control of the company, and John Malone of Liberty Media is said to be in talks. Sirius has the promise to be a very valuable business. And it should be — one day. But for now, its debt is a heavy burden.
Sirius has nearly 20 million subscribers and, despite the slump in the car sales that drive new satellite radio subscriptions, is still growing rapidly. The company should double its subscriber base over 10 years.
On that basis, it’s possible to determine a net present value for Sirius. Investors currently rate satellite TV subscribers at about $1,000 each. Satellite radio subscriptions cost less than half those of television, so let’s assume each customer may be worth $450. At 40 million customers, that’s a total value of about $18 billion by 2019.
Of course, a dollar that might show up tomorrow isn’t worth that much to shareholders today. So let’s discount back the value of those future subscribers by 15 percent annually. By that calculation, Sirius should be worth about $4.5 billion now, compared with a current enterprise value of $3.2 billion.
Muzak also looks pretty resilient, based on its model of providing playlists to retailers, restaurants and other businesses. Sales through the end of September held flat at $142 million, generating $49 million of earnings before interest, tax, depreciation and amortization.
But it had to fork over $35 million to service its $465 million debt pile. Muzak might have been able to muddle through the downturn by cutting costs. The problem is that all of Muzak’s debt comes due this quarter. Even if it could have raised the money, the interest payments would have been crippling.
Like Sirius and Clear Channel, Muzak will still be around in a few years, filling the airwaves with softened versions of Led Zeppelin songs. It will just emerge with a balance sheet scrubbed clean of previous excess. It’s a song that’s likely to be in heavy rotation for some time to come.
ROB COX, LAUREN SILVA LAUGHLIN and ROB CYRAN
Monday, February 9, 2009
I guess Chris Brown was mad when he heard he wasn't going to win a Grammy...
Chris Brown arrested in battery investigation, victim suspected to be girlfriend Rihanna
BY George Rush, Laura Schreffler and Oren Yaniv
DAILY NEWS STAFF WRITERS
R&B singer Chris Brown was arrested Sunday night by Los Angeles cops for allegedly beating up a woman, and insiders identified the victim as his superstar girlfriend Rihanna.
Sources said Brown beat sexy singer Rihanna, 20, after they fought in his car following a pre-Grammys party.
"She got out of the car to walk home. He got out to stop her," said a source. "Things got physical. He hit her, possibly more than once. She had multiple bruises."
A security guard at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles told the Daily News Sunday night that he saw Rihanna being taken for treatment at the hospital.
"She's been released," said guard Rodderick Brown.
The "Umbrella" singer and Chris Brown, 19, were both scheduled to perform at the Grammys, but pulled out at the last minute.
The Los Angeles Police Department would not identify the woman who was attacked, citing confidentiality.
The sweet-faced "Run It!" singer turned himself in wearing jeans at a Los Angeles police stationhouse about 7:15 p.m. local time.
He was polite, cooperated with cops and was released after paying $50,000 bail, police said.
Police said the fight took place about 12:30 a.m. Sunday in the affluent Hancock Park neighborhood.
"Brown and the woman were inside of a vehicle," said LAPD spokeswoman April Harding. "According to the victim they became involved in an argument. ... The argument escalated into an altercation."
By the time cops responded to the scene following a 911 call, Brown was gone.
Brown and Rihanna were seen Saturday night at a pre-Grammy gala hosted by music mogul Clive Davis in Beverly Hills.
The two posed for pictures and were spotted kissing before they hopped into a waiting silver Lamborghini.
"They were arguing. Apparently, Rihanna accused him of checking out other women at Clive Davis' party," said the industry insider.
"It seems she's taking the steps you'd need to take if you were going to press charges," added the source. "But she could wake up tomorrow morning and decide she still loves him."
The pop world's power couple have been dating for more than a year, and rumors have swirled that they were engaged.
Yet there were rumblings in recent days about troubles, and sources described the Barbados-born beauty as a clingy girlfriend who can't bear to have Brown out of her sights.
oyaniv@nydailynews.com
BY George Rush, Laura Schreffler and Oren Yaniv
DAILY NEWS STAFF WRITERS
R&B singer Chris Brown was arrested Sunday night by Los Angeles cops for allegedly beating up a woman, and insiders identified the victim as his superstar girlfriend Rihanna.
Sources said Brown beat sexy singer Rihanna, 20, after they fought in his car following a pre-Grammys party.
"She got out of the car to walk home. He got out to stop her," said a source. "Things got physical. He hit her, possibly more than once. She had multiple bruises."
A security guard at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles told the Daily News Sunday night that he saw Rihanna being taken for treatment at the hospital.
"She's been released," said guard Rodderick Brown.
The "Umbrella" singer and Chris Brown, 19, were both scheduled to perform at the Grammys, but pulled out at the last minute.
The Los Angeles Police Department would not identify the woman who was attacked, citing confidentiality.
The sweet-faced "Run It!" singer turned himself in wearing jeans at a Los Angeles police stationhouse about 7:15 p.m. local time.
He was polite, cooperated with cops and was released after paying $50,000 bail, police said.
Police said the fight took place about 12:30 a.m. Sunday in the affluent Hancock Park neighborhood.
"Brown and the woman were inside of a vehicle," said LAPD spokeswoman April Harding. "According to the victim they became involved in an argument. ... The argument escalated into an altercation."
By the time cops responded to the scene following a 911 call, Brown was gone.
Brown and Rihanna were seen Saturday night at a pre-Grammy gala hosted by music mogul Clive Davis in Beverly Hills.
The two posed for pictures and were spotted kissing before they hopped into a waiting silver Lamborghini.
"They were arguing. Apparently, Rihanna accused him of checking out other women at Clive Davis' party," said the industry insider.
"It seems she's taking the steps you'd need to take if you were going to press charges," added the source. "But she could wake up tomorrow morning and decide she still loves him."
The pop world's power couple have been dating for more than a year, and rumors have swirled that they were engaged.
Yet there were rumblings in recent days about troubles, and sources described the Barbados-born beauty as a clingy girlfriend who can't bear to have Brown out of her sights.
oyaniv@nydailynews.com
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Calling all my Cornell heads
Not sure why it's back to school in February, but shout out to Bazz and Mbusi (man!)
Friday, January 30, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
Clap Cognac mixtape release this Wednesday
HIP HOP'S FINEST and URBAN FASHION'S ELITE COME TOGETHER TO CELEBRATE THE LAUNCH OF THE MIXTAPE "KANI LIFE – BLESSING IN DISGUISE"
New York, NY (January 20, 2009)—The urban community will gather at the world famous Katra Lounge, 217 Bowery Street, New York, NY 10002 on Wednesday, January 28th, 2009 at 8:00 p.m. to celebrate the launch of Kani Life – Blessing In Disguise Mixtape by Hip-Hop Artist, Clap Cognac and Karl Kani's new clothing line, "Kani Life".
The Kani Life Mixtape is hosted by the Underground’s #1 DJ Bedtyme 357, Justo’s Best Female DJ winner DJ Blazita & Mixtape King DJ Superstar Jay and is Clap Cognac's 7th full length mixtape with 12 original tracks including the "Kani Life Anthem" song – an ode to the Kani Life clothing line & lifestyle produced by Frequency. The mixtape boasts original production from Mel Staxx, Rymez, Doc, Soul G , and many more. Collaborations include 40 G locc, Remo da Rapstar, Storm P as well as members of Clap Cognac affiliates Silent Roundz & Paper Soldiers.
Solidifying their hold on the urban culture, while broadening their audience, Clap Cognac and Karl Kani seek to expand their brand and outreach to the world. Clap Cognac will be holding an album release party and listening session on January 28th 2009 at Katra Lounge at 8pm to celebrate the release of this breakthrough mixtape and to give his fans, the media and the music industry insight to the process behind the music.
The mixtape will be available online at www.clapcognac.com & www.kanilife.com on January 28th 2009 and will be distributed in Karl Kani stores internationally. The "Kani Life Anthem" song is currently featured on www.KaniLife.com
New York, NY (January 20, 2009)—The urban community will gather at the world famous Katra Lounge, 217 Bowery Street, New York, NY 10002 on Wednesday, January 28th, 2009 at 8:00 p.m. to celebrate the launch of Kani Life – Blessing In Disguise Mixtape by Hip-Hop Artist, Clap Cognac and Karl Kani's new clothing line, "Kani Life".
The Kani Life Mixtape is hosted by the Underground’s #1 DJ Bedtyme 357, Justo’s Best Female DJ winner DJ Blazita & Mixtape King DJ Superstar Jay and is Clap Cognac's 7th full length mixtape with 12 original tracks including the "Kani Life Anthem" song – an ode to the Kani Life clothing line & lifestyle produced by Frequency. The mixtape boasts original production from Mel Staxx, Rymez, Doc, Soul G , and many more. Collaborations include 40 G locc, Remo da Rapstar, Storm P as well as members of Clap Cognac affiliates Silent Roundz & Paper Soldiers.
Solidifying their hold on the urban culture, while broadening their audience, Clap Cognac and Karl Kani seek to expand their brand and outreach to the world. Clap Cognac will be holding an album release party and listening session on January 28th 2009 at Katra Lounge at 8pm to celebrate the release of this breakthrough mixtape and to give his fans, the media and the music industry insight to the process behind the music.
The mixtape will be available online at www.clapcognac.com & www.kanilife.com on January 28th 2009 and will be distributed in Karl Kani stores internationally. The "Kani Life Anthem" song is currently featured on www.KaniLife.com
NY Times reviews the new Grand Hustle mixtape
YOUNG DRO AND YUNG LA
“Black Boy White Boy”
(mixtape)
No one has ever accused the Atlanta rapper T.I. of harboring a weird streak, but his taste in protégés would seem to indicate that beneath the blank grin and neatly constructed rhymes beats an oddball’s heart.
The T.I. apprentices Young Dro and Yung LA, who share this mixtape from T.I.’s Grand Hustle imprint, offer competing versions of the hip-hop eccentric. Of the two Young Dro is the star, a word nerd with a voice like a revving engine and a gift for fantastical imagery. He namedrops the Thundercats, Punky Brewster and “hammerhead sharks in Bermuda,” describes his car as looking “like Almond Joy” and taunts, on “Ain’t I (remix),” “The choppers in the trunk will make you do the Macarena.” He’s also a vocal comic, adopting a surf-prep accent on a series of interludes and, on “Shower,” sculpturing a rhyme where there is none: “All my diamonds are tangerine/Throwing this money like Dan Marino” (leaving the “o” on the cutting room floor).
This arresting collection of lean, stinging synthesizer-driven beats suits Young Dro well, their velocity acting as a counterbalance to his density. Yung LA, on the other hand, seems to slither atop these songs, a goofball who bleeds words into each other so that it sounds as if he’s almost always slurring. Mohawked and incessantly describing himself as futuristic, Yung LA suggests a twice-mimeographed version of André 3000 of Outkast, the early years. Which is why it’s so shocking, on “Woah,” to hear him complain about other rappers imitating his style. Even a cursory listen makes it clear he’s not the one worth copying. JON CARAMANICA
Source
“Black Boy White Boy”
(mixtape)
No one has ever accused the Atlanta rapper T.I. of harboring a weird streak, but his taste in protégés would seem to indicate that beneath the blank grin and neatly constructed rhymes beats an oddball’s heart.
The T.I. apprentices Young Dro and Yung LA, who share this mixtape from T.I.’s Grand Hustle imprint, offer competing versions of the hip-hop eccentric. Of the two Young Dro is the star, a word nerd with a voice like a revving engine and a gift for fantastical imagery. He namedrops the Thundercats, Punky Brewster and “hammerhead sharks in Bermuda,” describes his car as looking “like Almond Joy” and taunts, on “Ain’t I (remix),” “The choppers in the trunk will make you do the Macarena.” He’s also a vocal comic, adopting a surf-prep accent on a series of interludes and, on “Shower,” sculpturing a rhyme where there is none: “All my diamonds are tangerine/Throwing this money like Dan Marino” (leaving the “o” on the cutting room floor).
This arresting collection of lean, stinging synthesizer-driven beats suits Young Dro well, their velocity acting as a counterbalance to his density. Yung LA, on the other hand, seems to slither atop these songs, a goofball who bleeds words into each other so that it sounds as if he’s almost always slurring. Mohawked and incessantly describing himself as futuristic, Yung LA suggests a twice-mimeographed version of André 3000 of Outkast, the early years. Which is why it’s so shocking, on “Woah,” to hear him complain about other rappers imitating his style. Even a cursory listen makes it clear he’s not the one worth copying. JON CARAMANICA
Source
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Oscar nominations
I can't really comment on this year's Oscar nominations, partially because I don't tend to follow this stuff, but mainly because I haven't yet seen most of these movies; however, I can say this:
I feel bad that Heath Ledger died. I really do. Nobody should die that young. However, was he really that good in Batman? The publicist(s) for that movie really took advantage of the fact that he died and hyped up his "performance" for months before the movie came out. All of the sudden, every internet geek and casual movie goer was a film critic, discussing the intricacies of Heath Ledger's brilliant "performance."
Give me a break.
He was OK.
The movie was OK.
Get over it.
And, yes, I'm talking to you too Jose.
Best supporting actor?
That's almost as bad as Three Six Mafia winning an Oscar for "Hard Out Here For A Pimp."
But that song was kinda hot...
Oh.
And for the record...
If I hear another group of ladies talking about Michelle Obama's inauguration day outfits...
Give me a break!
It was an historic and monumental day.
And this is what you're talking about????
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
The Source in the New York Times...
January 19, 2009
HIP-HOP MAGAZINE NO LONGER ACCEPTS ADS FOR LEWD PRODUCTS
One thing magazine advertising and hip-hop music have always had in common is skin — images of models, usually women, in alluring poses and various states of undress. The Source, the hip-hop magazine, does not aim to do away with such images — there is a lot of money in them — but it wants to make the sex in its pages a lot less explicit.
To that end, the magazine announced recently that it would no longer take what the co-publisher, L. Londell McMillan, calls “booty ads,” for pornographic films, pornographic Web sites or escort services. But those have been a mainstay for The Source — more than half the ads in the magazine at times, he said.
The Source hopes to gain more than it loses by chasing mainstream advertisers that do not want their ads alongside the adults-only kind. That’s a serious gamble at a time when magazines are struggling, unable to hold onto the ads they have.
“I realize the risk that we’re taking,” said Mr. McMillan, 42, a partner at a major law firm, Dewey & LeBouef. “But I think when you have the more raunchy, seedy ads, you lose ads like financial services ads, some of the travel ads, the bigger corporate consumer ads like McDonald’s, Coca-Cola, Pepsi-Cola, technology, high fashion.”
The Source, he said, should be able to appeal to the core hip-hop audience, mostly young men, while also being something “you wouldn’t mind your kids seeing.”
Founded in the 1980s, The Source became the first major magazine devoted to hip-hop, but in the 1990s, it lost ground to its primary competitor, Vibe. Since then, it has gone through turnovers in management and financial troubles that culminated in bankruptcy.
A group of investors, led by Mr. McMillan, bought The Source in 2008. The major independent auditors of circulation and advertising have not examined it in recent years, making it hard to gauge the magazine’s progress, but these are hard times for the entire industry.
Mr. McMillan says eliminating sex ads is no mere business decision. Sounding, at times, less like the music’s fans than like their parents, he says he wants to transform the often raunchy image of hip-hop itself.
“We don’t want to just glorify the lowest-hanging fruit,” he said. “There’s a lot of people that want hip-hop but don’t want some of the filth that some of the business carries with it.” RICHARD PÉREZ-PEÑA SOURCE
Shout out to Londell...I'm coming for your spot.
HIP-HOP MAGAZINE NO LONGER ACCEPTS ADS FOR LEWD PRODUCTS
One thing magazine advertising and hip-hop music have always had in common is skin — images of models, usually women, in alluring poses and various states of undress. The Source, the hip-hop magazine, does not aim to do away with such images — there is a lot of money in them — but it wants to make the sex in its pages a lot less explicit.
To that end, the magazine announced recently that it would no longer take what the co-publisher, L. Londell McMillan, calls “booty ads,” for pornographic films, pornographic Web sites or escort services. But those have been a mainstay for The Source — more than half the ads in the magazine at times, he said.
The Source hopes to gain more than it loses by chasing mainstream advertisers that do not want their ads alongside the adults-only kind. That’s a serious gamble at a time when magazines are struggling, unable to hold onto the ads they have.
“I realize the risk that we’re taking,” said Mr. McMillan, 42, a partner at a major law firm, Dewey & LeBouef. “But I think when you have the more raunchy, seedy ads, you lose ads like financial services ads, some of the travel ads, the bigger corporate consumer ads like McDonald’s, Coca-Cola, Pepsi-Cola, technology, high fashion.”
The Source, he said, should be able to appeal to the core hip-hop audience, mostly young men, while also being something “you wouldn’t mind your kids seeing.”
Founded in the 1980s, The Source became the first major magazine devoted to hip-hop, but in the 1990s, it lost ground to its primary competitor, Vibe. Since then, it has gone through turnovers in management and financial troubles that culminated in bankruptcy.
A group of investors, led by Mr. McMillan, bought The Source in 2008. The major independent auditors of circulation and advertising have not examined it in recent years, making it hard to gauge the magazine’s progress, but these are hard times for the entire industry.
Mr. McMillan says eliminating sex ads is no mere business decision. Sounding, at times, less like the music’s fans than like their parents, he says he wants to transform the often raunchy image of hip-hop itself.
“We don’t want to just glorify the lowest-hanging fruit,” he said. “There’s a lot of people that want hip-hop but don’t want some of the filth that some of the business carries with it.” RICHARD PÉREZ-PEÑA SOURCE
Shout out to Londell...I'm coming for your spot.
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