Wait A Minute, You Can't Like Rock! You're Black!

Wed, 16 May 2012 14:05:58 -0400

"Free your mind and your ass will follow" -George Clinton

Throughout my life, I have had variations of the title of my post either spoken to me or conveyed through eye contact. Strangers and friends alike leafing through my album collection wondering why Falco and Funkedelic are even in the same zip code let alone in the same house. It was told to me at an early age by various family members that rock was 'white music'. Black people didn't listen to it. You weren't black if you listened to it. Even my mom was guilty of perpetuating this myth, although she did make exceptions. Around 1974, no one could say a bad word about Elton John around her or else there was hell to pay.

After my parents got divorced in 1970 (by the way, Mom got the albums), I spent a lot of weekends bouncing back and forth between my paternal and maternal grandmothers. My Aunt Renee (my father's sister) lived with Nana (dad's mom). One weekend she invited all of her friends from her high school volleyball team over when I was visiting. My rock-n-roll awakening happened on this weekend. They were playing records and someone put on Cream's "Sunshine of Your Love" and my ears immediately perked up. That opening guitar riff made stopped me dead in my tracks. Ginger Baker's drumming made my head involuntarily bob back and forth. Think about what your first kiss was like. You're trying to make sense of everything that's happening, but you're just not equipped to. You keep saying to yourself "This feels good! What's happening?". As if I needed more convincing that this 'rock thing' wasn't bad at all, they then put on Jimi. I examined the album cover and wondered who's the black guy on the front. Renee said it was Jimi Hendrix. I thought to myself "Jimi's black? Mommy was wrong"? It opened up a whole new world for me. My musical experience was no longer confined to Motown, Stax, Charlie Parker, Miles Davis and a ton of kick ass 45's. My musical canvas just added some great colors.

As I got older, casual trips to record stores was like going to a great museum where you can touch the art and listen to music at the same time. My forays into musical geekhood was my getaway from the criticism and ignorant remarks I would occasionally get hurled at me ("Who the f*ck is Sting and why are you talking to me about some cops"). In my 1978 mind, I thought if Roger, Dwayne and Rerun can like The Doobie Brothers (best episode of What's Happening...ever!), then I'm gonna play my damn Steely Dan record (Aja) proudly.

I reflect back and I can proudly say that I never succumbed to peer pressure or let others dictate what my look and behavior should be based on their stereotypes and feelings of inferiority. My teenaged prized possession was my English Beat t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. This did not hinder me from buying Prince's Controversy album or the first Luther Vandross album. These genres can co-exist in your mind and in your music collection...if you let them. My love for all types of music exposed me to a whole new world I would not have known existed if my mind was closed to the idea. Hanging out with my friends in gay bars didn't make me gay. It turned me on to some great music. Hanging out at CBGB's didn't turn me into a punk, but it made me appreciate music that I did not hear on the radio.

Now that I'm a dad and I'm in the position to turn my daughter Twyla on to music, I use a subtle approach and I try to not judge. For every Wiggles or Justin Bieber song, I try to sneak in Adele or Aretha. On the days I'm feeling adventurous, I'll throw in The Clash. Baby steps. Subtlety. No judgements. It seems to be working because she knows the words to Rock The Casbah and Rolling In The Deep.

My City Was Gone...and So Am I.

Fri, 15 May 2009 12:05:33 -0400

This is an entry I posted about a month ago on my old blog. For those who have already read it, sorry for the recycle. For those of you haven't, enjoy.

I was stunned and amazed
My childhood memories
Saw this world past
Like the wind thorugh the trees
Ay! Oh! Where did you go, Ohio?

-"My City Was Gone" by The Pretenders

I haven't posted anything for the last month and a half because my life has been, for lack of a better term, insane. My wife and I have decided to leave New York City and move upstate to Beacon, NY. Little by little, the number of reasons have increased but near the top of the list is my wife getting to spend more time with our daughter. The sacrifice is that I'll still be commuting five days a week but we'll have more space, a back yard, a man cave for me and a more affordable life.

Five years ago leaving Brooklyn was not even an option on the table. I grew up on the Upper West Side of Manhattan and I have so many great memories of being a city kid. Sadly, though, the New York I once loved is no more. The Pretenders song My City Was Gone has been playing in my head for the past 5-10 years. CBGB's, in the words of my friend Brian, is now a f@cking John Varvatos. This is emblematic of the slowly eroding soul of a once cool city. Mayor Rudy 9/11 sold us out to Disney, Bruce Ratner and every scumbag developer he could shake his slimy hands with. My NY is barely recognizable. The Lincoln Center Tower Records where I once worked in my early 20's is gone. Just a memory. My Yankees even scammed themselves a new ballpark. My city is gone. Every store front is the same and Starbuck's is burning coffee every five blocks. Developers are cramming ugly assed condos into every nook and cranny and destroying a once beautiful landscape in the process. Mom & pop stores are no more. They've been replaced by these boutique-like shops that overcharge you because their overhead is so enormous.

I love clean streets as much as the next guy, but Mayor Rudy 'I had no idea I was marrying my second cousin' Giuliani watered down the city so much that it has now become a vacation spot overrun by Red Staters in tacky sweaters. They're the same folks who hate NY the other 51 weeks that they're not here gathering up knick knacks to bring back the land of bibles and guns. Even my neighborhood of Park Slope has changed. What was once a peaceful lesbian enclave is now how home to bankers & lawyers and their families. Don't get me wrong, I'm not "hatin'" on the bankers & lawyers (although some do deserve our scorn and derision). It's just that Park Slope is now home to mostly the haves and have mores. My wife and I could never sell and buy in present day Park Slope. We, like many others, have been either priced out or on the verge of it. There are many families in this economic meltdown that are faced with a very crucial decision. Do we stay and eek out our existence or do we take advantage of a down market, cash out and leave? We chose to leave.

After my daughter was born, I entered the world of play dates, playgrounds and meeting other adults who share the common bond of raising toddlers. I've met some really awesome people in my daughter's play group and I will miss everyone who has been a part of it. There is also a part of me that is looking forward to this wonderful journey my family is taking. What I will not miss is the "Lord of the Flies", "Dog Eat Dog" atmosphere that surrounds enrolling a child into pre-K. For you non New York folks, parents basically have to camp out as if they were waiting to get Yankee playoff tickets just to get a slot in certain schools. This is pre-K we're talking about. Insanity.

I don't know what awaits us in Beacon, but I think I can get used to the slower pace. I'll always have fond memories of my misspent youth in the city. Seeing Living Colour at CBGB's. Seeing The Police in a sold out Shea Stadium. Hearing a loud roar in streets when the Knicks were kicking ass in the 1994 playoffs. Watching the Tyson-Douglas fight in my local bar and seeing everyone turn on Tyson. These are my favorite NYC moments, but the one that sticks out for me is watching Grandmaster Flash & The Furious Five pull up in a van, haul out their equipment and play an impromptu set in a playground on 103rd Street & Amsterdam. My friends and I were playing softball and we just stopped the game, stared in awe and asked each other "Is this really happening?".

The move to Beacon is bittersweet. I'll miss my friends and most of all my sisters-in-law and my nephew. I'll miss the city, but the NY I really miss vanished a long time ago.

Terry Nelson's Open Salon Blog

Wait A Minute, You Can't Like Rock! You're Black!

My City Was Gone...and So Am I.