i send my SOS to the world- this is my message in a bottle. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Love in Stereo I spent the night with my first love. Music. I went to a "Love to Hip Hop and Spoken Word" night here on campus at the Depot. I sat in a little table for two, with only one chair occupied and filled it with the sounds of the boom bat- the high hat and the snare; the heartbeat of hip hop that in some moments is better than the heartbeat of a lover underneath tangled covers on misty Sunday mornings. Sometimes music is the one thing that becomes the surrogate for all the kinds of love that I cannot normally express- the entangled rapture of first love, the aching of a broken heart, the slow, sexy moments that I can never quite encapsulate when I'm in it. It started off slow, like learning someone for the first time. The DJ played some hip hop jams; some familiar with the recognition of old friends like Mary Jane Girls- All Night Long, Mos Def- Brown Sugar, D'Angelo's Devil's Pie. Some I do not know and I wish I did. Then the spoken word began- words tumbling out from pursed lips and the dim light of the stage, each one in synchopated time. They came over, free flowing and yet highly structured, articulate, intelligent social commentary that I could only marvel before it disappeared under the tide of the next set of words. Then the pace picked up, like the moment realize you're in love. It washed over everything, obliterating the landscape, changing the dynamic of a comfortable life lived. I could feel the energy in the air, the hard sparking vibe of the raw vibing crowd. The other MC's then started their sets, the crowd throwing their hands up in the air, hollering, yelling. There wasn't a large crowd, but every single person there responded to the beat- sparking spontaneous movement, catcalls. It was like giving in to a feeling that you know you can't deny, get around or change. It was like surrendering to truth. It was paternal too. A father took his two young kids to the front when the DJ spun in between sets, pointing out the various parts to them and I could see the sharing of something he loved with his young son. He held his daughter up above the crowd during another MC set, letting her see her heritage, her legacy from him- his palpable love of hip hop. Then it got primal. The DJ scratched, creating a pulse underneath the beat like the feel of lips at your wrist. Hips moved in beat from girls who lined the stage, heads bobbed and hands were thrown up in the air. It wasn't polite, like sex the first couple of times, but rawer, realer, hard hitting, biting. It was uncompromising, yelling, a flurry of controlled movement thinly veiled underneath the mechanics. It was almost like a dance, the crowd and the MC's, like the dance of two people falling in love. The exchange of words, the fleeting glances, the chemistry and sexual tension, the getting to know you. You never forget your first love. 11:50 p.m. - Monday, Feb. 14, 2005 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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