 Club
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02.07.04 words Coakley
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QED
Coakley breaks down some of the unique
individuals that make up club land UK Hip-Hop…
 The
drug casualty
These days the one long ‘sit off’ that is weed, is no longer the sole
drug of choice for Hip-Hop heads. With coke and even Xstacy infiltrating
the Hip-Hop scene, you can have all the fun and games of an encounter
with a drugged up mong....in a club playing dope music for a change.
This is both a good thing and a bad thing.
Good points:
1) People dance more....badly. This is funneeee! (See below) It
also makes my job easier.
2) People need to loosen the fuck up as it is, there are too many
people taking themselves FAR too seriously in Hip-Hop clubs. Anything
that creates smiling, laughter, loving and empathy, dancing, social
conscience and real brotherhood (missing in action from Hip-Hop for far
too long) cannot be a bad thing!
3) Backpackers are in decline! To the point where they no longer
take up whole wall sections of the club. They can now be found hugged up
together 'headnod' butting each other in the darkest corners of the
club. This is good as it means they can't bore you with how dope they
think the latest RJD2 remix of a shit Def Jux joint is....and stating
obvious shit like 'Ja Rule is gay'. You get to avoid their general
ugliness and don't have to smell their funky breath.
Bad points:
1) People get paranoid....not good in a Hip-Hop club what with
all the scowling, hoodie wearing wallflowers. Quite frankly the thought
of some fool in a fitted cap, sledging; grinding their jaw like a fuckin’
bread cutter, as you worriedly say there was honestly no malice intended
in your comment “you look fucked mate”, frightens me.
2) People will come up to you and chat PURE shit! (See our ‘Deal
making coke casualty’ below)"
3) Things can go too far the other way. How tiresome is it going
to be when people start hugging you and excitedly screaming in your ear
“Awwwwwwwwww maaaaaaaaan! I just fuckin’ peaked like fuck then
LAAAAAAAAAAA!” every time the first 4 bars of ‘T.R.O.Y.’ kick in.
The
deal maker
Always trying to shop his demo to anyone who will listen. Will talk to
you for hours as if you're his best mate, without listening to a word
you have said....'cos he's too busy talking about himself and hyping
himself to death. This guy loves himself. After all he's so important,
why wouldn't you wanna hear him talking about all his latest moves and
activities....for 3 hours???
Usually a coke casualty.
I once had to endure 20 minutes of this non-stop shite in a club....when
I asked the fella to shut the fuck up he replied straight faced, "Sorry
man, but I'm REALLY enjoying the sound of my own voice at the
moment".
FUCKIN' HELL!
The
embarrassing, 'I've never been to a Hip-Hop club before and as a matter
of fact I don't really even listen to Hip-Hop' person
There's nothing wrong with not knowing much about Hip-Hop.... but when
your only 'experience' of Hip-Hop culture is the piss take hand gestures
that your mum and dad makes to ape 'those rapper homies', while using
all their powers of wit and comedy to hilariously rhyme 'crap' with
'rap', or worse still a Puffy video (see below)....it might be a good
idea to settle down and stop spazing out with those awkward "hip-hoppy"
hand gestures and running man dance steps. Unless you’re me, the white
Carlton Banks, and you’ve won a ‘Hitman & Her under 18’s night: Best
Dancer’ award (and the opportunity to get ill with Michaela Strachan)….just
leave it be kiddas.
Some people are intelligent enough to know they're out of their depth,
others carry on regardless.
HOW THE FUCK DO THESE PEOPLE GET INTO THE CLUB?"
Fine
laydee, with ugly fuck
This seems to be exclusive to Hip-Hop clubs. Nothing is more depressing
than the sight of a sweet looking honey with a cute smile and great
personality....hanging on the arm of some fuckin' no mark, ugly, gap
toothed, skinny, smackhead looking sweat - with a twitch indicative of
his forgetting to take his Ritalin, hanging on every word he says about
how ill he is and how he'd fuckin' RIP the open mic session and how he's
getting his EP out soon and is gonna be the next Eminem....and yet I see
this every time I go out.
It really does make me QUITE angry!
You also suspect he'll probably beat her when they get home for
accidentally washing his JSA card with his 50" waist jeans.
The
person in the club who can't dance, but doesn't know that small yet very
important fact yet
....we salute you. As opposed to ‘The embarrassing, I've never been
to a Hip-Hop club before and as a matter of fact I don't really even
listen to Hip-Hop person’, who represents the worst of this nations
satirical talent; this person is actually trying hard.
Those P Diddy videos (i.e. 'Special Delivery Remix') featuring his
butler are a prime example of the hilarious dance shenanigans that are
possible with this genre of music. What's even more jokes, is P Diddy
slapping down his butlers moves....as if his are in some way vastly
better!!! Then proceeds to represent moves that Carlton himself would be
ashamed of! You'll see dance moves of this standard x100 in Hip-Hop
clubs across the land".
Furthermore any white Englishman dropping the ‘thunderclap’, the ‘give
dem a run’ or worse, the ‘C-walk’. Seriously….fuckin’ stop!
The
chin stroking brigade. (Also known as 'Backpackers')
"It’s interesting to me that it’s become clichéd and passé to criticise
those, who ironically, represent the most clichéd and passé of
people….by calling them backpackers. Yes such a phrase has been
overused, but that’s not to say such individuals don’t exist.
Such is their sensitivity (crafted through years of self abuse coupled
with rotational play of their Sage Francis windows media player
playlists); they have claimed the term ‘backpacker’, as offensive as
calling someone with downs syndrome a ‘samehead’.
Of course we all know only those who ARE backpackers could possibly be
offended by the tag in the first place. Or too quote Too $hort directly:
“If you ain’t act like a bitch, you aint a bitch….bitch”. ha!
The ‘backpacker’ phenomenon is both a (closed) state of mind, and a sub
genre of a sub genre of Hip-Hop. The eternal sapper of atmosphere at the
dance, they can be found inhabiting the walls and sit off areas of your
local Hip-Hop club. Perhaps in a previous life they were anally abused
by a trusted uncle, such is their desire not to move from their
designated safe zones, which are usually located anywhere away from a
dance floor.
Instantly recognisable by their Beppe De Marco beards and of course
their legendary Jansport or Eastpack backpacks which contain (fat cap)
pen and paper (for those all important contacts….or in case they
suddenly find inspiration to write their clichéd post apocalyptic New
World Order type rhymes), white label vinyl (“CD??? Fuck off!!!” they
exclaim), and the smallest mini disc available….attached to the largest
pair of cans money can buy (I suppose in the ‘new world’ down south this
would be an ipod, attached to a pair of oversized headphones).
Now there’s nothing wrong with Anne Carhart. I like her sweaters, but
there’s a major difference between an individual who owns 1 or 2 Carhart
items in their wardrobe….and those who own just 1 or 2 items in their
wardrobe, that AREN’T Carhart. They offend me, standing scowling on the
wall, looking like a 5ft 8” beige coloured shitstain.
In backpack circles it is now cool to cuss MF Doom (too many people are
getting onto him now eh lads?). That is how reactionary they are. Had
these folks been around in 17th century France….we’d be looking at the
rule of Louis the XXXIVth today. Why do they even fuckin’ bother going
to clubs?
I’m just waiting for the inevitable hilarious ‘proud to be a backpacker
– we’re reclaiming the word’ movement.
The
turntablist groupie
You see
this is why I hate turntablism….or more accurately the fans of it (99.5%
of whom ARE turntablists). Don’t get me wrong i’m amazed by the talent
and am regularly blown away by the progression of the skills year on
year, but 99% of them don’t know how to rock a party and 99% of their
fans have no interest in clubbing.
If I was DJ’ing and a line 10 deep was standing there in front of me
gawping at me – arms folded, I would turn off the turntables till they
moved their fuckin’ clownshoes asses.
That aside, what fucks my head (and this is truly terrifying for me,
considering the amount of coke infiltrating club land), is the way they
will stand there and bust the same fuckin’ clichés EVERYTIME!
How many times will I have to hear “Man! Makes you realise how much
practise you have to put in man. Makes me wanna go home and get on them
decks right now!” in my fuckin’ ear every time someone cuts the same
fuckin’ crab scratch pattern every fucker and his gran does?
How about go home now and practise how to mix one record into another.
Same shit every time. That’s why I avoid turntablist headliners like the
A.I.D.S.
- thecoakley@hotmail.com
 Ukhh.com
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