Saturday, January 16, 2010
To my dirties on the block,
come up any way you can,
for my homies in the street game,
just tryna get ahead,
for the homeless people sleeping on the sidewalks for beds,
To the babies,
born already on dope,
straight to his veins
from the coast guard boat.
We 'bout to get our Free on,
that's F-R-double-E on,
in case you did not hear me..
hear me...
hear me...
Dead Prez
come up any way you can,
for my homies in the street game,
just tryna get ahead,
for the homeless people sleeping on the sidewalks for beds,
To the babies,
born already on dope,
straight to his veins
from the coast guard boat.
We 'bout to get our Free on,
that's F-R-double-E on,
in case you did not hear me..
hear me...
hear me...
Dead Prez
While there are very few songs that truly make me want to go back to Junior High, this is one of them.
There's something about the waning synth, the so unobtuse drumline, but most of all, the somehow enlightening piano interlude, that makes me think everything will one day be ok. And while today was certainly 'one day' to a younger me, back then, on the computer late at night before another useless day at Junior High school, this manages to make me wish I could return and feel that experience one more time. I guess, now that I think about it and listen in again, I realise that the song conjures up, most of all, the memory of the feeling of that time: the idea that, late at night, when all your friends (save one who never slept) had gone to bed, there was still hope for you and for this world. Clearly then, it is not the time I would ever want to return to, but rather to re-feel that invigorating experience.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0EhiuCqDAJg
I like the way the synthesizer fades in and out, and the almost-real trumpet seems to compete for space with it. Both, in their own way, and as depressing as they seem be, they-for those who care to hear their story-reach a timely and affirming climax. And yet the piano gets the first and last say. It seems to have the least to worry about it; anyone who had the most melody, the finest pitch, and I guess also the clearest message, would.
There's something about the waning synth, the so unobtuse drumline, but most of all, the somehow enlightening piano interlude, that makes me think everything will one day be ok. And while today was certainly 'one day' to a younger me, back then, on the computer late at night before another useless day at Junior High school, this manages to make me wish I could return and feel that experience one more time. I guess, now that I think about it and listen in again, I realise that the song conjures up, most of all, the memory of the feeling of that time: the idea that, late at night, when all your friends (save one who never slept) had gone to bed, there was still hope for you and for this world. Clearly then, it is not the time I would ever want to return to, but rather to re-feel that invigorating experience.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0EhiuCqDAJg
I like the way the synthesizer fades in and out, and the almost-real trumpet seems to compete for space with it. Both, in their own way, and as depressing as they seem be, they-for those who care to hear their story-reach a timely and affirming climax. And yet the piano gets the first and last say. It seems to have the least to worry about it; anyone who had the most melody, the finest pitch, and I guess also the clearest message, would.
