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Fredagsbiten 23.02.18

Fredagsbiten: The Message. I morgon spelar Grandmaster Flash (Joseph Saddler) på Trädgår’n här i Gbg … antagligen utan The Furious Five! När vi hör namnet Grandmaster Flash And The Furious Five så tänker vi förstås på … ”Don’t push me, ’cause I’m close to the edge, I’m tryin’ not to lose my head” och så vidare. Lustigt nog så medverkar inte Grandmaster Flash på låten, han har ej heller varit med och skrivit den. Han var mest plattvändare när de spelade live. Låten skrevs och framfördes av; Ed ”Duke Bootee” Fletcher, Melle Mel och Clifton ”Jiggs” Chase.

Epitetet plattvändare kanske inte är helt schysst, Grandmaster Flash är en pionjär inom hip-hop DJ-ande. Han ligger bakom innovationer som; backspin technique (quick-mix theory), punch phrasing (clock theory) och scratching, som alla idag anses som standard DJing-tekniker.
Flash is fast, Flash is cool!

Funderar lite på detta och diskutera i smågrupper:

”Broken glass everywhere
People pissin’ on the stairs, you know they just don’t care
I can’t take the smell, can’t take the noise
Got no money to move out, I guess I got no choice
Rats in the front room, roaches in the back
Junkies in the alley with a baseball bat
I tried to get away but I couldn’t get far
‘Cause a man with a tow truck repossessed my car …

A child is born with no state of mind
Blind to the ways of mankind
God is smilin’ on you but he’s frownin’ too
Because only God knows what you’ll go through
You’ll grow in the ghetto livin’ second-rate
And your eyes will sing a song called deep hate
The places you play and where you stay
Looks like one great big alleyway
You’ll admire all the number-book takers
Thugs, pimps and pushers and the big money-makers
Drivin’ big cars, spendin’ twenties and tens
And you’ll wanna grow up to be just like them, huh
Smugglers, scramblers, burglars, gamblers
Pickpocket peddlers, even panhandlers
You say I’m cool, huh, I’m no fool
But then you wind up droppin’ outta high school
Now you’re unemployed, all non-void
Walkin’ round like you’re Pretty Boy Floyd
Turned stick-up kid, but look what you done did
Got sent up for a eight-year bid
Now your manhood is took and you’re a Maytag
Spend the next two years as a undercover fag
Bein’ used and abused to serve like hell
Til one day, you was found hung dead in the cell
It was plain to see that your life was lost
You was cold and your body swung back and forth
But now your eyes sing the sad, sad song
Of how you lived so fast and died so young so

Don’t push me ‘cause I’m close to the edge
I’m trying not to lose my head
It’s like a jungle sometimes
It makes me wonder how I keep from goin’ under”

Ha en skön helg alla … och ”Don’t push me …”