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Work of Art in the World of Football

March 25, 2006

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You should have seen it. It beggared belief.

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Four: Bring the Ruckus or, a tribute to "indie"-labels

I love it when hip hop gets namechecked by non-rap artists that I really respect. I encountered it twice last week: first in listening to Jens Lekman, the somewhat melancholy but ever-melodic bard from Sweden, who intones "I still remember Regulate with Warren G, could that have been back in the sweet summer of 1993" in the great track Another sweet summer's night on Hammer Hill. Wrong year, but he hits the nail on the head nonetheless; that track evokes strong memories in a lot of people. Listen to this and more on his lovely CD "Oh you're so silent Jens" and check out some other songs of his here . Secondly, I read an interview excerpt in the Daily Telegraph of Tom Waits giving hip hop artists props, because he dug rap music's realness and immediacy (ok ok, the interview was from a 1988 Playboy, but hey...). But that is not what this post was supposed to be about: it was actually intended as a tribute to some of the small, impressive labels in hip hop,

Five: Krush Groove (199...)

Quarter past midnight, and we’re late for the concert. Luckily, the Effenaar is too (true to form), so as we arrive, the doors are just swinging open. The crowd surges in, bubbling with enthusiasm and excitement. Once inside, I’m taken aback by the massive crowd already milling about the place. The size and high spirits of the audience are reminiscent of the Return of the B-Boy extravaganzas. The warm atmosphere slowly rolls over me. My limbs loosen, my head starts bobbing to the vibes DJ Deen is unleashing onto the dancefloor. A large number of people squat on a makeshift platform, resembling a stand. Anticipation builds up. Suddenly, a second figure materialises behind the wheels of steel, a Japanese man with blonde hair. DJ Krush has taken to the stage. Over the dying strains of Deen’s records, Krush starts cutting in a ghostly sound backed up by a sharp clacking rhythm. The crowd freezes and turns to face the stage. Most expect Krush to commence a cut and scratch show, exhibiting h

Celebration!

(Joost is just as happy as I am) Having safely navigated my way through ten posts (and one sort of disclaimer post which I am excluding from my tally), I am in a jubilant frame of mind as you can well imagine, my dear reader. So ecstatic in fact that I came very close to printing T-shirts with the following: BRIGHTSTUFF = 10 POSTS OLD! But seriously though: I will be celebrating this occasion by going to see the infamous Infadels (no typo!) on Thursday evening in the Patronaat (Haarlem). Why not join me? As a sign of the coming of age of this blog, I shall from this day forth dispense with the annoying habit I was in the danger of acquiring, that is of affixing a number (spelled out of course: how different, how... artistique) to every post. No, from now on, the posts will stand alone, independent of their illustrious/pathetic ancestry. And what better party music than that of Goodtimes, a Hong Kong outfit, who are notoriously anonymous on internet, but producers of a startling and di

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