Nonsense, horsefeathers, and idle musings from a decade in South Korea (2002-2012).

06 March, 2006

In Yo' Face

By Aaron
06 March, 2006

Elaine Rohse

One morning, when we were still finding out things about each other unbeknownst before, as I ate my toast I pulled off the peeling and left it on my plate. Homer eyed it with interest.

'You aren't eating your crusts," he said.

I steeled my eyes and growled,

"I hate crusts."

03 March, 2006

Stone Cold Buggin'

By Aaron
03 March, 2006

I'm not sure why Young MC crossed my mind this morning as I was sitting on the crapper, but there I sat and cross he did. His Stone Cold Rhymin', which included the classic "Bust a Move," was my favorite cassette back when I was in the fourth and fifth grades and, with the preachy exception of "Just Say No," the album was a high point of late '80s Americana. It was the first rap album I ever bought and, if I'm not mistaken, I still have it in a storage unit somewhere in the States.

All of which is wonderfully nostalgic, but I'm still not sure why - in the midst of my morning glory -I got to thinking about Marvin Young and the only time I ever saw him in concert. Wait, I know: the concert was shit (I'm working out these connections as I go along, in case you couldn't tell). I never got to see the guy in his prime, which no doubt accounts for something, but forgive me if I expected more from the man who gave us "I Come Off" and Tone Loc's "Funky Cold Medina."

I saw Young MC about ten years too late, I suspect. I was a university student in DC and after pulling off a heist and getting George Clinton the previous year, the student union announced in 1998 that for the annual concert we were to get Young MC, Biz Markie and a collection of middling rappers whose names I've long since forgotten. Budget cuts, they said. As it happens, Young MC was the only one to show up for the gig, which didn't disappoint too many people because, well, there weren't enough to disappoint: less than 100 people showed up to see the show. That the show was in a small outdoor amphitheatre at 2:00 pm on a Sunday afternoon, when most university students are still hitting the snooze button, couldn't have helped the gate.

Being both the opening act as well as the headliner, Young MC was the first performer to hit the stage - and let's just say it was anticlimactic. As he walked out, someone dropped a cassette (probably got it from my dorm room) into a stereo and the instrumental karaoke track for "Bust a Move" rattled forth from the shoebox sound system. Mr. Young forced his way through a perfunctory version of his one true hit, after which the crowd - such as it was - went about as wild as Old English hangovers allowed.

Encouraged, he then turned the cassette over and slipped into some of his newer material, the first such number being a bumbling piece entitled "Madame Butterfly." People started falling asleep, kids began to fidget, dogs set to licking their asses, and Young MC stopped midsong:

"Yo, I can't just sing 'Bust a Move' eight times, y'all."

Folks looked at each other with worried looks and said, "what? Why not?"

Young MC grumbled off a few more lines ("She's my madame butta-fly") and then stalked off stage. Disillusioned at yet another childhood icon pulling himself from the pedestal, we ended up sitting around the dorm room for the rest of the afternoon feeling crushed. Even now, listening to Stone Cold Rhymin' remains a bittersweet experience.

So, Mr. Marvin Young, if you're reading this, you still owe me a good concert, and I want to hear "Bust a Move" eight times.