Posts Tagged ‘hip-hop’

Anything Can Stop Me Now!

May 11th, 2017

I am happy for my friends.

I am happy for Jake aka CasOne. CasOne put out an album with his friend Figure, So Our Egos Don’t Kill Us. Strange Famous Records, Sage Francis’ label, put it out. To promote the tour, CasOne went on a North American tour for about four weeks, with Figure joining him for most of the dates.


I’ve known Jake for years. We’ve recorded some of the worst songs in the history of electricity together (my fault). For example, I once tried to get him and Figure to collaborate with me on an LMFAO parody album. We never did that. Why make shitty LMFAO-type music with me when they can make pretty decent without me? For what it’s worth, CasOne was also with me on the Night I Played In Front Of a Bunch Of Juggalos While Wearing ICP Makeup.


I am happy for my friends.


Charles is also on tour. You might know him. He wrote “Hey” and “Monkey Gone To Heaven” and a bunch of other songs you like. He did the thing that some people didn’t want him to do and recorded and released new Pixies music and it was greeted by those people like it was a turd that came via UPS. Music that fits in with the rest of his famous band’s classic catalog. Music that is neither the greatest thing since sliced bread or the complete and utter nadir of recorded sound (c’mon, they’re not doing LMFAO pastiches or anything).


Charles is on tour with his famous band, intermingling the new songs with the classics. I saw them in Covington and it was the best show I’d seen them play since their initial reunion. The intensity was in the playing. Some nights are just magical and you can’t control whether they happen in Ohio or thereabouts. He is living his life, playing for people who want to see him and his band.


I am happy for my friends.


Colter Wall. I just met him last year. His debut album comes out today. A young kid with a weather-worn voice and the world on his shoulders. All of twenty-one years old. Already being trumpeted by Rolling Stone and No Depression for his songs. He’s on tour and has been for some time, with a three-piece band behind him and Mary managing him. They’re going to kick this album in the ass touring all over. The buzz is on him right now. I am genuinely excited for him and Mary that this is happening.


I am happy for my friends when good things happen for them.


I don’t feel happy right now, though. Because I’m not out there.


I have taken a lot of wrong turns, walked into a lot of dead ends, made a lot of bad decisions. I have lived a long time and not learned, earned, or gained what I needed along the way. Anything could stop me now. It has taken me all this time to understand that when I was twenty-one years old I could not sing like Colter, nor write a song like Charles, nor string together raps like Jake. The only thing I had was that I wanted to. I wanted to be famous and I also wanted to be good.


I have put in a lot of effort in order to learn how to be good. I just kept working at it. I got better at singing and writing songs. For a time, I was even an okay rapper but I was never as good at that as I was at singing. I sang lead on six TVH albums. I made a Kentucky Prophet album and an EP. I played a lot of shows, solo and with the band. I am a great singer. I sing like an angel. I am a dynamo. I should be heard. I should be doing something.


The problem is, while I was slowly getting better at music I also slowly let myself go. I let myself go and then I let myself go some more and by the time I realized how far I’d let myself go I was too far gone. I was so far gone I could barely perform. My body struggled with all the weight I had gained. I still struggle with it. I had taken a hands-off approach to my own health, and then I stopped caring about other things. I stopped caring about contributing to my band in a meaningful way. I was simply along for the ride. Yeah, I was good at music but so what? Who needs one more singer who writes songs trying to play in the world? I figured the way I was living things would either work themselves out or I would eat myself into an early grave. I decided that I was not necessary unless someone or something demonstrated otherwise.


But do you know who needs me right now? I need me. I need to be here. I need to sing and write and play. I need to keep going. Because if I sit around and just wait to die I’m only wasting all the talent and potential I have. And a part of me wants to chastise myself for what feels like wasted years but. . . that’s just wasting even more time.


I was unhappy because I am jealous of my¬†friends who are chasing a dream, finding it and living the dream. But I have my own quest right now. I’m on the slow track back to a healthier existence. I’ve lost about twenty pounds in the last two months. I’ve got a lot more to lose but even now I feel a difference. I’m staying on it. I have a lot of catching up to do with my friends.


I have the songs, when the time comes and I am ready. I know because I have written them and I will keep writing them.


Anything can stop me now.

More Cakes Than I Can Handle

March 26th, 2017

Last night, I went to Louisville to see Lil Debbie. If you don’t know Lil Debbie, you should do some Youtubing and Googling and thank me later. She’s on tour through the spring and last night came to Louisville. Did a concert at Trixie’s Entertainment Complex. Which is another story altogether.


I thought Trixie’s used to be a strip club. Like it was a strip club that was converted over to a concert venue. I didn’t know it was both a strip club and a concert venue, and it might be my new favorite place to watch shows.


You walk in and on the left is the strip club, while the concert venue is on the right. So if you’re watching a concert, and one of the middle acts isn’t doing it for you, you can head over to the strip club side and watch dancers. They wear g-strings and pasties, so the customer can’t have everything.


I paid $15 for a hip-hop show headlined by Lil Debbie, who has a song called “Bake A Cake”. She played it last night. Debbie has a baked goods business called Cakes By The Pound. Dancers were walking into the concert side to watch her perform her set. I got more than $15 value worth of cakes for my eyes with all the g-string asses walking around.


Lil Debbie has cakes too but you have to watch her music videos to see it. She wore a gold lame skirt and a red tube top last night. So that was part of the appeal for me but I liked her attitude, too. Like I’m attracted to her but I’m also attracted to the way she lives her life. Living the good life, on your terms. Hang out with your bitches, smoke good weed and drink booze and empower your friends.


You can see it by the sheer number of women in the crowd going for Debbie. They were in it to win it. It was a typical hip-hop show for the most part, with a lot of dudes, being backed up by their dudes. But the headliner is this little Italian-American girl and her DJ, no hype wo/man, and she’s brought the whole crowd in and they’re singing along with every word! People who came over two hours away from Ohio to see this girl. Me, who came two hours from Whitesville to see her.


It was my birthday (almost). I like a good show on my birthday. In 2016, I went to see Magma for my 38th birthday in Chicago. Took a Greyhound bus round-trip. On my 30th birthday, me and a few friends went to Chicago to see the Boredoms. Today I am 39 years old. And I got this photo with Lil Debbie.

Sit and spin, haters.


It’s all about love. And DMSR. That’s a Prince song. Dance. Music. Sex. Romance. But it all ends with love.


I gotta go back to Trixie’s to see more concerts. That’s a great place.

I Wrote Rap Lyrics for a Bjork Remix

May 19th, 2015

In 2004, Bjork released her sixth studio album, Medulla. One of the songs on this album, “Triumph Of The Heart” was released as a single early the next year, where it charted in the United Kingdom, Spain and France.


That’s where I come in. In 2005, I was really starting to get the Kentucky Prophet thing underway and what better way to kick off a hot career in hip-hop by collaborating by an internationally recognized artist like Bjork.



As you can imagine, my work with Bjork was ill-fated, in the sense that I never got to collaborate with her and she has no idea I exist TO THIS DAY. Since it’s been over ten years since this would-be collaboration fell through, I feel comfortable sharing with you the lyrics I would have used for the remix.


I realize now that this was not my best work but you have to keep in mind this was 2004/2005-ish and while my lyrics lack a certain grace(?), fragility (?), talent (?), they are certainly in keeping with some popular variations of the rap form. Now that I’ve got the apology out of the way. . .


Yo Bork, I hear you from Iceland

Lemme go there, make it Paradiseland

Make it Very Niceland

Don’t give birth to kids, let your pussy be a vice grip

Let me in that tight shit

Rock you like a hurricane

Like a scorpio with a paranoid android membrane

Shout out to Thom Yorke, Bork.

Let me give you radio head, get you radio play

Every soldier in the Army of Me gotta get laid

Hey Bork, I know you wildin’

In the airport passin’ out violence

From the Medulla oblon-gotta get up in the guts

Oooh baby let me squeeze your butt

Light the menorah

Blow your brains out like that stalker in Florida

I believe that this is the jam of the year

Motherfuck Lars Von Trier

I Am No Dylan

May 6th, 2015

Bob Dylan is a very fascinating songwriter. So much that there are eleven in a “Bootleg Series” of unreleased material. Bob Dylan is so fascinating that people want to hear the songs that weren’t deemed good enough for an official album (of which there are three dozen).


Last week I considered releasing an album of unreleased demos. Rap songs from 2002-2009. I was going to release it either on Bandcamp or Soundcloud.


Then I actually listened to these songs. Boy oh boy oh boy. These songs are not worthy of release. Now that I think about it, they weren’t worthy of being recorded. They shouldn’t even have been written.


The blame for this is on me. My lyrics. The ideas in my lyrics. My stars. What a terrible execution on my part. It would be a disservice to the people who produced and collaborated with me on this music to let it out and give them credit for it.


Think about those old pictures of your folks wearing tacky clothes from the 70s or early 80s. Now imagine that instead of wearing silly clothes, they’re blowing a dog. That’s what this music sounds like. My unreleased songs sound like your parents blowing a dog. Metaphorically.