Archived entries for Los Angeles
Just Say Fez
Oh No‘s new American take on Middle Eastern hip-hop is not without similarly single-minded precedents. In terms of actual full-lengths, Mutamassik‘s 2005 LP, Definitive Works, is of equally subversive significance. For anyone familiar with post-war Egyptian pop, from the sampled string sections to the galloping percussion, the influence of Om Kholtum‘s band looms large on this Brooklyn DJ’s debut album.
Listening to Definitive last weekend, like a lot of records of its kind, I was struck by the ways in which Mutamassik almost plays with Western clichés of oriental music. Particularly the popularity of specific types of orchestral arrangements, and belly dance signifiers popular during the early ’60s, when cities like Los Angeles boasted of a number of Arab-themed club bands.
I don’t mean to suggest that this album intentionally stakes out a critical position in relation to these long forgotten artists. However, if you’re hip to the phenomenon (think guitar-driven mini-orchestras with fez-wearing, Arab-American and Armenian band leaders, not shriners), its hard not to place the new engagement with Mideast music in American hip-hop in relationship to them.
I own a number of out-of-print recordings by several of these groups, but they’re hidden somewhere deep inside my office closet. This weekend, I’m going to do some serious excavation work, and slap them straight back onto my turntable. I imagine that I’ll find them a bit more ideologically complex than I did before.
Islamofascism Awareness Week
Tehrangeles has officially been taken over by American members of Hezbollah, and appropriately renamed to reflect the identity of its new, turban-bedecked rulers.
So reported an email from an LA-based Mashdown reader this morning, claiming that he snapped the Hezbollywood picture above as he drove to Canters for a light breakfast.
The subject line: Shi’ite Culture Jamming.
Numerology
This week, we celebrated our fourth anniversary. Not pictured: Jennifer stomping on the glass first.
Meet the Schalits
Every time we go to LA, we always end up at a party. Last weekend was no exception. Barely over my jetlag, we drove down last Friday to celebrate father’s day with Jennifer’s family.
Though I wish I’d been awake enough to snap a shot, the picture above, taken at a family event last year, is a reasonable substitute. The newlyweds, at Jennifer’s brother’s house in Atwater Village.
Back in Black
We’re home. And already thinking about how we’re going to get out of bed tomorrow morning. Brazilian espresso, anyone? Its absolutely wonderful, makes a first-class crema, and only costs eight dollars a pound.
Word up to my homey Ron, who shouted me out today about the WBAI show getting posted. For folks interested in listening, click here. An MP3 will load up immediately, courtesy of the always amazing Doug Henwood.
I just listened to the program over dinner, and was really surprised that the background noise didn’t drown it the least bit out. Big up to the Bob Hope Airport intercom for being our friend.
When It Rains, It Pours
This time, it was expected. After suffering a stroke ten days ago, Jennifer’s maternal grandmother, Dorothy, passed away yesterday in Los Angeles. She was 89. Both Jennifer and her brother Miles were immensely fond of Dorothy, and have often spoken warmly of the role she played in their lives.
I first caught wind of the news late Friday afternoon, when Jennifer’s aunt called, sounding tense. I told her that Jen was working late, and would be coming home after eight. Sure enough, the phone rang again ten minutes after Jennifer’s arrival. This time it was her mother, calling to formally break the news.
In the interim, a huge box of flowers had arrived. I held on to it until Jennifer walked through the door. By the time the phone rang, Jennifer was busy putting the flowers in vases. Along with it was a note from my sister Naomi, who, being the diligent reporter that she is, defined what it means to have good timing.