fuck has' day...patience & principle

i have a tendency to hold in what i'm feeling until i explode in furious rage ("furious rage" might be a bit of an exaggeration, but you get the idea). determined not to do that, i decided to voice my frustrations to my friend/musical collaborator...



known only as "odin smith" in the underworld, me and him and are close...we stalk rappers and kill them.


and what more trust can you have than to count on the other not to turn states evidence on you for murdering emcees?


as it stands, i go to his den and record sharp vocals in a room possessed by the same dead rappers we've previously murdered. unfortunately (for me) his schedule is a slight bit hectic at times. that's where my problem came from. i can't afford to be pushed to the back of the pile. maybe others work faster but they don't make better music.



conceit or confidence? arrogance or arithmetic?





maybe a smidgen of everything, but when i enter the studio...me and odin leave having created fire without an ignition source. i think when i approached him about my frustrations, he got the wrong idea. i think he assumed i meant his personal life should take a back seat to my music... which isn't the case. it's everyone else around us. they want to make music as well, but if that means i have to shelf my music, i can't comply. i've compromised for others. i stood aside and let them create. i didn't interfere by cooking up 80 projects for odin to juggle. i waited.



however, i think compromise comes with it's limits-



i was told (by him) that he ranks projects based on priority. over time i've forfeited my spot as priority so that others could shine. i want my spot back. my spot as an elite member of that crew should not be in jeopardy because i don't have a vehicle. but it is. this is a huge byproduct of the comfort zone he's surrounded himself with...but a comfort zone shouldn't endanger good music. it's bad enough that i am without other options at the moment, but at the same time, i've come FAR out of my way for the sake of this team. i've bussed it plenty of times...even though i'm the only one that doesn't currently have a car.

i've gotten lost, i've wasted my whole evening in transit plenty of times, i've spent more in bus fare than it costs in gas to pick me up at the rinky-dink eckards after i sit on septa for an hour waiting for the last stop to come. and anyone who knows me knows...i really ain't got it. i've recorded far more for others than i have for myself. i have nothing to show for my time in that studio, but no one can say i've EVER laid a wack verse for anyone in the circle. shit, i've never laid a lackluster verse. i've laced everything i was ever invited to be on, torched EVERY rhyme assignment i was ever given...but the same can't be said for my comrades.

i DESERVE to be put on a pedestal just like everyone else was when their turn came up. it's MY turn. if i'm wrong...call me on it-



frustrations aside, we set the date: a few weeks from now...just enough time to tweak a few lines that have been giving me trouble (actually just one line. the last line for a song called "all's fair", perfectionist maybe?).



also enough time to put a new song on the cd. i don't have a title yet but the beat is rather unfriendly if i must say so. real fly-







strange to think that i was so close to scrapping the whole cd if i wasn't able to live up to my vision for it.



or maybe not so strange.





according to odin, that's how artists are... yup.









lo custamato~

fuck has' day...friction

this is an unfinished entry-

someone i know once told me...one of the hardest parts about trying to break into the music business is first completing something that can compete professionally.

i'm paraphrasing a bit, but the message is clear. in recording the music that will introduce you all to who i am as a musician, i've found a great deal of frustration. the term "patience is a virtue" was probably created by a person trying to record a damn record...

this is a still shot of that frustration:




8/23/07


it's coming up on 2 months since i last recorded ANYTHING for my cd.

since that time my songs have done nothing but collect dust. i suspect they will continue in that fashion.

i'm having trouble finding the words to sum up one of the songs i haven't recorded yet...i suppose that could be considered irony since...i don't see myself getting another crack at the vocal booth anytime soon.



i envisioned this project of mine almost a year ago, if not that. the whole thing has been a war of attrition. the constant changes, the debt inducing purchase of my mpc...the thing that gets me the most is the endless waiting.

anyone in my circle who does anything musically is a leap and a bound away from where i am. i can't think of a time when MY cd has been priority in my circle. this current undertaking was...for a few weeks. then i had a studio session, that i thought went well, and...nothing. nothing has happened since then. i get denied at every turn. there is always something more important than whatever "music" i want to record. so while all the others have continuously been cranking out material, i have been at a stand still. in my basement. waiting for a shot to bring these ideas in my head...out into the air.

to be fair, i was offered some potential time. but i declined it. it would only be 3 hours or so when you factor in all the bullshit that will occupy us throughout the day. recording would only be an afterthought. i know if i were to take that time, i wouldn't be allowed in the studio for ANOTHER 2 months. so i figure i might as well try and hold out for a better offer-


but that's the thing...i'm starting to feel like there won't be a better offer. i was on the back burner of that crew for a good 2 years. a lot of them would contend that a large portion of those 24 months saw me attending college full time, unable to record. i generally don't respond. it isn't worth trying to convince them how untrue that is.



still chipping away at the block...


custamato~

strange eyes...

the other night i was on a website.


i saw something straight out of a sci-fi flick.


there was an accompanying video...






suffice to say, my vision is fine...but i was blown away by what i was watching.



though i wouldn't call myself a tech-head, i am intrigued by advances like this. the possibilities are extreme. if this kind of procedure were to catch on it could mean a revolution in the medical field as we know it. potentially giving birth to cybernetic medicine...i mean outside of the realm of theories and wishful thinking.

something completely tangible.
something that we've only seen in movies happening in our lifetime-


this is prosthesis how it was meant to be experienced...


so like i was saying, i'm sitting there smiling like a kid with a new toy. looking up more information, looking forward to the future. they told us we'd be pushing flying cars by now, but the only consumer innovations are plasma screens and unmanned vacuums. so forgive me for being a little nerdy about the damned robo-eyes.


20 years from now lasik could be replaced by hi-def retinal implants.

when/if that happens...we should all hope we can purchase our iBALLS (tm: apple) in peace. without some band of gypsies dribbling on about the ethical implications of artificially upgrading our bodies...

playing god by "giving sight to the blind" so to speak.





see you around,




custamato~

run 4 the sun...

the chase is only as good as your brain fathoms the ending to be.





that has to be it. otherwise why bother?



i've been chasing girls like a damn looney tunes (wile e. coyote...hello?) character my whole life. i like a lot of different kinds of women. some of them are unattainable. i invest way too much in the idea of courting them. it's wasted energy.

i could be focusing that energy toward something that'll pay off. or someone that can reciprocate my feelings.

now, for the sake of discussion i'll say there are 2 possible outcomes of any chase. i don't mean that in a win/lose sense, where you get the girl (or guy if you're into that) or you don't.


a pursuit can be a taxing endeavor. for some of us, it affects the lives we lead beyond the cat and mouse games we play with each other. for some of us...the chase wears us to the metal. others thrive on the possibility of another conquest and the mere thought, even if it never pans out, is intoxicating.



the chase can either dull or sharpen "the blade".

off hand, i can think of 2 (or 3 depending on how honest i'm feeling that day) females that i'm pretty sure i can't have for some reason or another. yet the idea of roping them in is both exciting, and exhausting. if keeping the idea alive is the essence of optimism, then what's the lesson plan for failure?




this isn't a movie folks. it rarely works out like a fairy tale. the person you wind up with is usually not so elusive as to be unattainable. at least that's what it seems like to me...of course, i'm looking from the outside in. you see, every girl i've ever been involved with is a raging psycho. depending on how you look at that fact...a lot can be said about me, or about them.

but that's a story for another time-




here's another question: when (if at all) does the chase become obsolete? all things eventually perish, change and/or evolve in some way. yet, after all these thousands of years i still have to practically bash some chick's melon in and drag her into my cave to even have a shot at something resembling a relationship.

in other words, there's a lot of work involved.

fun fact: here is the most important thing you need to know about human interaction: people don't understand the concept of human interaction.




people, usually due to some idiosyncronous trigger (read: emotional baggage) manage to find these ignorant reasons as to why the two of you aren't compatible. then they rush into the arms of the worst possible choice of mate on all of the green earth. after that falls apart, they crawl back to safety of your practical and understanding embrace...and tell you how they thought this one was gonna be special-


"we met and we couldn't keep our hands off each other!". the only thing she couldn't keep from you was how great a friend AND NOTHING MORE you are! she goes on to tell you how she can't believe she slept with him that quick...you can't figure out why she felt you needed to know that. she tells you things like: "i don't usually swallow unless i love the guy, there was just something about him"


ok everybody meet mr. me too




not only is the chase outdated, it's been mutilated with time and idiocy. a relic from a phase of human life we should have outgrown by now. fashioned into some strange instrument of torture aimed at guys/girls considered to be undesirable by the shiny happy people.



give me a shiny happy break.









i heard a rumor that older women don't concern themselves with those childish games.



i don't believe it. but i suppose if people can believe that ice creams, and rhinestone skulls are chic, i guess i can try to believe that some women don't indulge in meaningless mind fucks.





that or i need to start learning how to like rhinestone skulls...



nah.











custamato~

'97 mentality

i haven't had much to say this past week...



couldn't tell you why, i just haven't. perhaps too many uncomfortable thoughts that i'd rather not share.



but all that changed the other night when i was doing my daily hip hop once over. i checked all my little hot spots for new songs and rap related dish. what can i say? it's not an image, i live it.

in all honesty, my short term memory isn't the well-oiled machine it should be, but my long term picks up the slack and keeps me balanced...for the most part.



for some reason, on this night i get this colossal flash back and i go on the hunt...i'm searching for one song:




wow.


'97 in june...my grades were too screwed up to walk in my graduation. i had to attend summer school.


i played this song everyday.

my 6 weeks in purgatory at central high school were probably more fun than a kid should have when his diploma is on the line. the weather was stunning, as was my crush at the time: jennifer. what a beauty...i wonder what happened to her from time to time.

her backyard spoke with thunder-

in a simpler time when folks still used beepers, i had her number. and when i passed easy pickins...i was only looking in the window to see if she was working. i had math class on one day and a social studies class of some sort on the other day. math was exactly what it sounds like: lame.

it was the other class that made us feel less like losers and more like an exclusive club.

there was never a shortage of laughs. and the teacher wasn't half bad himself. if i had him i probably wouldn't have failed the class in the first place.


after class i'd bounce back to my block. i still lived on erie ave. back then...me and my friend khalik lived around the corner from each other at the time. i think he may have been courting the deaf girl across the street from his place, and the only things of any real concern are trivial after years of toiling in a twisted metropolis.

you never believe that it's all so simple...until it isn't anymore-


i guess the reason i look back with such fondness is because it quite literally is the final chapter in that part of my life. i can look back and pin-point it with clarity. 6 weeks and one chance to cinch up 4 years...


the sun was brighter then...

when the last day of the summer session came, i went into the crowded halls of the school. everyone was in a mad rush to get their grades and end it all. i walked up to my math teacher, he handed me an envelope. i knew i hadn't done well enough in his class to get a passing grade. i opened the envelope and to my surprise he let me squeak by...it meant that i had my diploma...high school was at an end.

i never had to go back.

i looked out into the sea of students, trying to find my teacher. to connect with his face. peeking above the crowd i don't know if he saw me for sure, but i think he did...and if he did then he knows that my backward glance was a silent thank you.




to the shining city blocks, and those watermelon lollipops from a teenage crush...



may we all find those bright days again, and chase away this corruption and darkness.







custamato~

randall's isle recap...

so came to a realization.



i don't like concerts that much. i don't like standing...i'm kinda tired of crowd participation. i hate waiting on the rappers to take the stage. the live experience is pretty much lost on me unless i can touch the stage.





big rap acts that require that whole blockade, 20 foot crowd separation thing, turn me all the way off...



too impersonal.



i'm paying to see this d-bag perform his songs live, right? the least he can do is give me a pound. show some gratitude for the whole...me supporting his family thing.







so, a friend of mine passes me a ticket to the rock the bells concert. it sounds great on paper. in reality it's...an acquired taste. if your a hip hopper then you already know. almost anyone you'd want to see was performing on randall's island, nyc.



pharaohe monch

mos & kweli

EPMD

public enemy

cypress hill

wu-tang clan



and a few others-





but. and there is always a but...to see them you had to contend with insane summer heat, possible dehydration, sky high water prices (and forget about the price of beer), a strange assortment of stipulations (no blankets, chairs, outside food, no bottles or cans...so no outside drinks, no umbrellas, etc.), and a ravenous crowd swaying and shifting out of balance as we all jockey for position closer to the stage...actually, closer to the partition in front of the stage.







once you manage to scrape your way up front, you stay there. if you move you're never going to get that close again. knowing that, you spend the whole time flexing your muscle on a bunch of moshing punks.



and damn if that one sweaty kid with no shirt on won't stop jumping on you. asshole.







all in a days work for a hip hop fanatic. now it's back to the x-80 shuttle that cost me a special concert going rate of 5 bucks.



what a deal!



especially gratifying after i tricked 7 bucks on this unlimited metrocard that they told me i couldn't use. back down the steps to stand in line with throngs of concert goers crowding the station at 125th. and don't take too long on that metrocard machine, you might get cussed out by one of these over zealous fans-









after 12 hours standing...all that was left to do was eat, wash, and sleep. it took me 2 days to recuperate, but i lived to tell about it.



and my hearing is still intact after being assaulted by two 60 speaker walls. thank you ear plugs...







it was all good for the most part, but i don't think i can physically handle that kind of grind again. shit was like a job, son. you gotta be in shape when a show gets that real...





i'm out man...i retire. i'm way too skinny for this. seeing my favorites is something to remember but somehow i think the dvd will be better.











all rocked out





custamato~