Second Saturday hates hip-hop?
Scratch of the week:
Sacramento B-boys should be familiar with Shortkut. Back in the ’90s, he was a star of the turntablism scene, winning deejay competitions with his ill-blending techniques and traveling the world as a member of famed crews like the Invisibl Skratch Piklz, Beat Junkies and Triple Threat DJs. But he’s moved on, evolving into a top-rankin’ party-rockin’ deejay in the Bay Area, peppering his scratching tricks onto a mix of hip-hop, R&B, dancehall and pop hits. In other words, this is a celebration, not an exhibition, so no trainspotting, please. And bring a girl, dude: No one wants to hang out at a sausagefest. Addict Merchants, a Sacramento crew whose history dates back nearly as far as Shortkut’s, will open this Saturday, September 19, at 9 p.m. at Blue Lamp, (1600 Alhambra Boulevard, call for cover). (Mosi Reeves)
Thriller 2 is the title of local experimental-joke outfit Retarded Muppit Farm’s latest, a collection of Trey Parker and Matt Stone-like ditties that—in spite of comic songs called “Take Me Higher (Than Heaven)” and “Ponies Are Impressive” and, of course, an ambitious title ridiculously crowning itself the follow-up to the most successful pop album ever—play it straight to a painfully obvious fault. RMF writes dance, pop, gangster,’80s songs and more, all irredeemably dumb, riddled with awful noise, like stock Casio keyboard tones and cloying kick-drum dance breakbeats, and unexpectedly somber lyrics that lack both humor and narratives. I can’t see how they’d be good live—YouTube confirms this theory—but they’ll be at On the Y this Saturday (8:30 p.m., $6, 670 Fulton Avenue).
Local rapper Task1ne has a new mix tape, which is a hit-and-miss sampling of the emcee as he exhibits his skills rapping over hip-hop, dancehall, gangster, R&B, hyphy and other tracks. Decide for yourself, however, as Task joins Another Rap Group, Mentes Diferentes, Ms. Vybe and DJ Los this Saturday at Capitol Garage (15th and K streets, 10 p.m., call for cover). (Nick Miller)
Second Saturday’s bad rap:
First, Midtown clothing boutique United State was denied its Second Saturday entertainment permit. On its blog (http://unitedstateonline.com), the owner wrote that city police cited “attracting a younger audience” and underage drinking as causes for rejection.
That’s funny. I’ve never seen underage drunks in Midtown on Second Saturday.
Anyway, United State’s owners say they never serve alcohol on Second Saturday and don’t allow patrons with booze into their store. They do, however, put on live hip-hop and turntablism events every Second Saturday on the front sidewalk, one of the few Second Saturday hip-hop events in Midtown.
So this past Second Saturday, I went to the streets to see whether cops have a beef with rap.
On S and 16th streets near Ernesto’s Mexican Food, no less than three cop cars were parked near Omina Laboratories, which celebrated its one-year anniversary with live hip-hop performances on the roof. And the cops didn’t do anything but watch; maybe they were captivated by Chase Moore’s sunset performance and DJ Oasis’ scratch skills?
That evening around 8:30 p.m., however, a few cops took action. Around the corner from U.S. at Cuffs Urban Apparel during emcee Bones’ set with Citystate, three police harassed the deejay and the store’s owners over permits, then—when they realized Cuffs had all the necessary paperwork—were chagrined and retreated west down J Street.
Later, down the street at My BBQ Spot during Mahtie Bush’s set, four cops loafed near the back parking lot, but the show went on. As it should. (N.M.)
A pocket for blinkers:
If you blinked, you missed it. Nevada City’s Pocket for Corduroy’s short-but-sweet two-city reunion tour made its first stop at Harlow’s on Thursday night. They headlined the four-band bill, and after seven years and three opening bands, PFC finally took the stage, and despite the first song sounding like it was getting away from them, showing the lapse in time in which the foursome hasn’t played together, that rustiness was absent from the rest of the set. What was left was an energetic performance, with vocalist-guitarist Andrew Hodgson’s face often and dramatically obscured by his long, wavy blond locks, not unlike drummer Pete Newsom’s, who back in 2002 both had closely cropped cuts.
Hairstyles aside, there were even new PFC T-shirts for sale, emblazoned with a redesign of the old PFC four-man logo and, of course, “2009.” So if you were a blinker, you missed a solid set of songs worth revisiting by a great band. But don’t think I was blinking during “New Obsession”—Thad didn’t scream. (Shoka)