D-D-D-Do You Like... Sc-Sc-Sc-Scratching? Now with 20% More Embarrassing Audio!

Part I: The Documentary, The Scratching, And The Grammy's

Don't you hate things that date you? Wait... I don't mean 'things' that let you take them out, buy them 'Dinner & A Movie', and then just leave you on their doorstep at the end of the freakin' night! What I mean are things that let you know how old your really are.

This past week, the hip-hop documentary, Scratch was finally released on DVD. Quite possibly the best hip-hopumentary since WildStyle, it's an excellent study of the history and progression on DJing during the past two decades. With interviews and demonstrations by top DJ's; everyone from Grand Wizard Theodore and GrandMixer DXT, to Qbert, DJ Shadow and DJ Premier, this DVD shows you concrete evidence on why Turntablism is a musical art form.

The underlining theme in the documentary was that one of the most significant moments in DJ history happened at the 1984 Grammy Awards. During that show, pioneering hip-hop heads witnessed a live performance of Herbie Hancock doing his biggest hit, "Rockit". His lavish stage presentation had the signature pop-lockers, breakdancers and robotic dancing legs (which were part of the ground-breaking music video). But the key element on stage that blew everyone's wigs off, was the presence of "Grand Wizard D.St" (now known as DXT) scratching on stage. When the breakdown came and the cameras focused on D.St doing his thing, you could hear the crowd mutter in confusion. They were looking at this cat with an antenna stuck to his head, totally destroying a record player on stage, yet he was making a rhythmic sound, which played excellently with Herb's futuristic song.

Now, although scratching had been cropping up on rap records and mixtapes, this was the first time mainstream America got an authentic look at where that "JIGGA-JIGGA" sound was coming from. In the documentary, most of the (now famous) DJ's equate that moment as the one that elevated turntablism from a cool hobbie, to a viable musical instrument. A lot of them used that moment as inspiration for their own aspirations of becoming a world-class turntablist.

As for me, I remember that moment also. I was sitting in front of the TV and seeing the GrandMixer scratching at the Grammy's, with my mom watching it with me. I was 15 then, and totally engrossed in hip-hop, and it was the first time I was able to turn of her and say "See? That's what I listen to!" Finally, there was proof that Hip-hop was a tangible, musical art form. I didn't have to defend my love anymore. There it was on network television, for all to see.

The scratching... The breakdancing...

It was an incredible moment.

Part II: The Wonder Years

That was 18 years ago! And the fact that I can remember that moment so vividly makes me feel like I'm old enough to be a cute college coed's father. And for those of you who don't understand, that's a 'bad' feeling.

But I also remember a lot of good memories from back then. It was a great feeling to be a part of something new. Hip-hop was the 'fad' and never got old. It just kept mutating and evolving so fast, that there wasn't any time for it to get stale.

Back then, hip-hop was extremely cool, because it was abrasive and unpredictable. Today, you can spit in any direction, and you'd hit some new rap CD. Back then, the only rap records that made it into circulation were 'good' rap records. When something new was hitting the record stores, you'd rush to grab it, even if you hadn't heard it. That's how rare recordings were. You'd pick up classic New York names like Doug E.Fresh and Slick Rick, LL Cool J, The Cold Crush Brothers, Whodini, Boogie Down Productions, and Run DMC as well as others. But you'd also have local stuff. Being from Los Angeles, we'd also check out local artists like Ice T, and Toddy Tee (FYI:'The Batterram freestyle tape over "Roxanne, Roxanne", not the 12" re-recording).

As anyone back then can tell you, hip-hop wasn't a spectator's sport. If you loved it, you had to be a part of it. Whether you considered yourself an DJ, rapper, breakdancer, and graffer (graffiti artist), you were aligning yourself with the neighborhood crews. I was fortunate enough to wear two hats: DJ/Producer, and Part-time rapper:

Back then, my mother was pretty much working all the time, so the house was pretty much mine. This designated my place as the neighborhood hip-hop headquarters. We didn't have much money, so I had to rely on my innate electronic ingenuity. This meant I had to 'jury-rig' whatever stereo equipment we had in the house to serve our purposes! I had a small $200 'all in one' stereo system, complete with a 'Mickey Mouse-style' turntable, and a dual cassette deck. For those of you who've delved into the world of 'Pause-Mixing', a setup like that is golden.

By sunset, the crew would start gravitating to my place to hang out, 'vibe' to new music, and engage in freestyle battles. I'd hook up my little system's output to my mother big stereo cassette in the living and tape our sessions for future bragging rites (embarrassing example here). Yes, by today's standards it sucks. But back then it was all experimental.

This also helped me survive out in the neighborhood. I usually created full length pause-mix tapes, and distributed them to people free.

Why?

It was the height of the gang wars in South Central Los Angeles, so you had to find 'creative' ways to keep yourself from becoming one of the unfortunate victims caught in the middle. Supplying free mix tapes to local gang members was a good way to keep money in your pocket and to travel without any problems.

Although we all had aspirations of become famous rappers in the back of our heads, that was never the reason for doing what we did. It was all about the moment. It was the new Inner City pastime. Instead of playing street sports, I was more comfortable with spending my weekends scratching up my mother and sisters' record collections. At night when the streetlights came on, and while my friends were out doing 'dirt', I was making instrumentals from songs I recorded off of 1580 KDAY*.

* KDAY article translated from French.

Part III: Those Were The Days

Looking back at the influence Hip-Hop had on me, and digging up all the audio I had in storage, I never realized how much it was integrated into my life. Hip-Hop may not be traditionally classified as a culture, but it's at least a sub-culture for African American youths. It dictated an attitude that advocated creative competition over violence. The style, and sounds; the way of life was exciting, new, and unpredictable. It nurtured creative problem solving, when you couldn't afford the typical tools to make music. In a nutshell, it catered to the situation that inner city youths were facing at the time.

To this day, I'm still entrenched in hip-hop culture. Not in the way I dress, or talk. But in the way I view myself. I'm not a big fan of the hip-hop that's being put out today. It's just not my style. Like most fans from my era, I'm more drawn to 'Crate Diggin' for older funk and soul records, who were the major influences for early hip-hop.

And although I don't rap and breakdance anymore, I still create beats. Gone, are the days of pause-mix tapes, but I still have the love of re-mixing songs and creating original material. It's still not an attempt to become famous. It's a lot more than just having fun. It's part of my lifestyle now. It's my ultimate creative outlet. Without it, I'd go completely nuts! Some people need to paint, or sculpt, or play along with their favorite songs with their own instruments.

I need to manipulate waveforms, and sample old grooves to create my own. That's what hip-hop means to me. Not the music, but the feeling you get from creating the music.

Part VI: The List

To end this rant, I've included an audio list of my "Top 5 Personal Hip-Hop Moments". These are the moments (some cool, most embarrassing), which I contribute to my progression in the love of hip-hop:

This was the first time I accidentally ascended to the next level of scratching. During the routine mix sessions with my partner, Mixmaster Lee, I accidentally stumbled onto something new. Keep in mind, it's 1988. The funny thing is You can here Lee's astonishment in the background.

On this day, I was visiting Los Angeles and scheduled to fly back to San Jose that night. We'd spent most of the day 'vibing' on beats and there was a little less than an hour before I needed to be at the airport for my flight. So, out of nowhere, Bob says, "Man, we should do a song real quick." Looking at the time, I didn't think it was a good idea. But the cool factor was to strong, so i agreed.

We cooked up an instrumental track in about 30 minutes, and quickly scribbled some rhymes together. After a couple of takes, and a quick mixdown session, we had our first (and last) rhyme collaboration on tape. That was a rush!

I met this cat name Roland Williams in 8th grade (don't remember how). In any case, we became best friends and eventually formed our own crew. I was a 'pause mix' wizard, making 6 minute instrumentals out of anything I could find. I put together tapes and handed them to Roland at school to rhyme over. In a week, he'd hand me back a tape full of freestyles, which I'd re-edit with scratches and added production. We had aspirations of going professional, but alas...