At times...
Just re-discovered the Buck 65 website. Wow. It's an improvement. I saw a poster at the Barfly in Birmingham on Saturday. He's playing there on Friday 12th. Must go. Seen him 3 times now. Once here and once here and also at the Custard Factory. Although he doesn't vary the attack too much, he's been different and challenging every time. What always comes accross is what a great guy he is. He's always pushing the boundaries without losing the connection. He's also really unlucky (look at the link above regarding the Bar Academy gig). Go to his website and have a look at the Love Letters. He presented the Juno awards (think it's like a Canadian Brit Awards) and his in-ear monitors broke. Here are some excerpts:
You'll recall in an earlier letter that I refered to '05 as the worst year of my life. It's true. It's too grim to go into, but trust me that a lot of bad stuff happened. And bear in mind that this is coming from a guy who's lost most of his family, who's been in countless automobile accidents, who's body and name have been attacked publically and randomly, who's been cheated and screwed over more than a two dollar ho'...
Get this: Anyone who knows me even a little bit knows that I'm not an extremely materialistic person. But if there's one thing I'm strongly attached to, it's my beloved record collection. I've dedicated my life to this collection. I collected pretty much every hip hop record ever pressed up to 1996. I collected rarities from every genre. 45's. 12"s. 10"s. 78's. The oldest of the old. The newest of the new. My record collection has long been renowned for being nearly impossible to believe. So, a while back I had to move house. Everytime this happens, dealing with my record collection becomes a major dilemma. They take up so much physical space and are so incredibly heavy. I asked a friend in the city I had left if 'they' would mind temporarily storing them for me until I found the time and means to move them again. 'They' seemed happy to oblige.
A few months later I recieved an urgent call from a long-time friend and fellow dj/crate digger... "Dude, are you SELLING your record collection?!!?" "No. Of course not", I replied leisurely. "Why do you ask?" "Because I saw your records in a used vinyl shop here in town today!" "!@#$#@!$%^^&*()(*&^%#$%^&&*!!!!!!!!" That's right. They'd been sold. "They" turned out to be a crack head (somehow I didn't know that) and hawked my stuff so they could score.
If you've ever seen me play live, you may have seen me using a Vestax 07 mixer with a sticker of Bettie Page on the face plate. That went missing too. So if you ever see it in someone else's caress, you know the deal. How's that for luck?
I know there are people who've had terrible things happen to them in their lives, and I don't want to belittle that with my claims of being the world's unluckiest person. The grounds on which I lay my claim is in that crappy shit happens to me over and over and over again. It's more a quantity than quality thing, I guess. But my quality has been pretty high at times too...
You'll recall in an earlier letter that I refered to '05 as the worst year of my life. It's true. It's too grim to go into, but trust me that a lot of bad stuff happened. And bear in mind that this is coming from a guy who's lost most of his family, who's been in countless automobile accidents, who's body and name have been attacked publically and randomly, who's been cheated and screwed over more than a two dollar ho'...
Get this: Anyone who knows me even a little bit knows that I'm not an extremely materialistic person. But if there's one thing I'm strongly attached to, it's my beloved record collection. I've dedicated my life to this collection. I collected pretty much every hip hop record ever pressed up to 1996. I collected rarities from every genre. 45's. 12"s. 10"s. 78's. The oldest of the old. The newest of the new. My record collection has long been renowned for being nearly impossible to believe. So, a while back I had to move house. Everytime this happens, dealing with my record collection becomes a major dilemma. They take up so much physical space and are so incredibly heavy. I asked a friend in the city I had left if 'they' would mind temporarily storing them for me until I found the time and means to move them again. 'They' seemed happy to oblige.
A few months later I recieved an urgent call from a long-time friend and fellow dj/crate digger... "Dude, are you SELLING your record collection?!!?" "No. Of course not", I replied leisurely. "Why do you ask?" "Because I saw your records in a used vinyl shop here in town today!" "!@#$#@!$%^^&*()(*&^%#$%^&&*!!!!!!!!" That's right. They'd been sold. "They" turned out to be a crack head (somehow I didn't know that) and hawked my stuff so they could score.
If you've ever seen me play live, you may have seen me using a Vestax 07 mixer with a sticker of Bettie Page on the face plate. That went missing too. So if you ever see it in someone else's caress, you know the deal. How's that for luck?
I know there are people who've had terrible things happen to them in their lives, and I don't want to belittle that with my claims of being the world's unluckiest person. The grounds on which I lay my claim is in that crappy shit happens to me over and over and over again. It's more a quantity than quality thing, I guess. But my quality has been pretty high at times too...
posted by Steve State at
16:47
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