Top 23 Albums of 2016, Part 1

            Welcome all to my yearly super-bias list of music that I found most enjoyable. This year I finally just shut up and complied all of my music into one list, instead of making people suffer through multiple blog posts for no reason. That being said, this list is being broken up into two parts, so the end result is still the same and I am still the worst! On a more serious note, 2016 was such a great year for music, specifically black music. After the major resurgence of black sound with The Epic and To Pimp a Butterfly last year, in addition to the growing traction of Black protests and the importance of having our voices heard, most of my top music reflects this.  I want to push forth music that sounds amazing and helped change me or teach me something along with way. With all that being said, let us begin a trip down the melody that was 2016.

Love and Hate- Michael Kiwanuka 

            I discovered this gem while watching “The Get Down” on Netflix over the summer. A significant chunk of the album was used to set the stage for a musical show that told a soulful story about a young man’s discover of Hip-Hop music in the Bronx during the 70’s. The music fit the setting remarkable well, combining the smooth soul sounds of Otis Redding and Bill Withers with a modern tale of being a Black man in America. Although the music is beautiful and crisp, it hits your ears like one long ballad of turmoil and revolution. From Kiwanuka’s small person booms out a voice aged far beyond his years. It tackles themes of racial prejudice (openly proclaiming to understand the full weight of being a Black man in a White world), wronging loved ones, and also coming to terms with himself after that same wronging. Here is an artist who has found a way to tell his story without compromise or remorse. This album is a masterful piece of modern soul music that will make you sway and throw your hands in the sky. It is an unapologetic black album that breathes life back into older music and never loses sight of its oppressed roots.

           

            Floss- Injury Reserve 

Last year Injury Reserve topped my underplayed rap album list with their debut Live From The Dentist’s Office, a wonderfully cartoonish project that put a trio of down on their luck rappers in the spotlight and allowed them to blow the Hip-Hop world away. Needless to say I was pumped to hear about them dropping an album not even a year later. Hands down, this album has my favorite hooks of 2016, each song has an insanely simple yet catchy hook that completely pulls you into the song. Over the course of the album this results in a project that grabs your attention from moment one and demands you listen to its insanity and it is very insane mind you. Injury Reserve, with their fusion of Jazz/Blues/Gospel samples with wonky atonal bass and drums, hits everything from spending money, to party culture, to trying to do well for the sake of making their families proud, and back to the futility of trying to sound like any other rap group and make hits. It is seamless transition between the introspective conscious movement that so many old heads rave about and the fun bangers that can make rap so engaging. Through this project they challenge convention and establish themselves as one of the of best rap groups emerging on the scene, and they do it all while smiling like idiots.

            RTJ 3- Run The Jewels 

            Run The Jewels, a Hip-Hop power-duo consisting of Killer Mike and El-P, will most likely end up going down as the most important rap duo since Outkast. The two veteran rappers have not only dropped another genius project, but did so weeks before their expected release date simply because they couldn’t think of a good enough reason not to. Returning with their signature style of anarchistic themes delivered through clever and often comically dark wordplay, the group now sounds more advanced than ever. El-P (the producer of the duo) stepped it up and managed to concoct the groups most musically focused album yet. While still dark & gritty, the addition of heavy synth work gives the album a futuristic vibe that bodes well with the groups out of this world aesthetic. RTJ has created a very specific niche for themselves, they talk shit about the government while at the same time encouraging their listeners to be more active participants in their own lives. They carve out paths of destruction with their music, while at the same time paving the way for people to rise up, rebel, and have the courage they need to fight for what they believe in. Considering the year we had in 2016 this album could not have come at a better time.

        American Boyfriend- Kevin Abstract

A year ago I remember reading an article about this up and coming indie rapper, Kevin Abstract, in which he was talking about how much of an influence Childish Gambino was on him as a creator. Due to that interview alone I kept him on my radar, and when his sophomore release dropped I had to check it out. What I got was an eclectic mix of Hip-Hop with everything from Pop to Indie Rock and Acoustic music. This album chronicles Kevin’s life growing up in the white suburbs of his home state, Texas, and doesn’t shy away from the hardships he had to face coming to terms with his sexuality and environment. There are specific portions of the album where he points to his best friend being racist and others where he is painfully grieving over his conflicted love life. It all feels like the soundtrack to an Indie movie about teenagers going through the same thing, and I believe that was the purpose going it. The pictures painted on this album are clear, and by sacrificing subtly it becomes naked and vulnerable, which is where it gets its charm. Here a Black artist not only opens up about being gay, but embraces musical styles from his surroundings that would get him ostracized if he lived in another community. He makes the best with what he was given, and his best turns out to be one of the most diverse and sonically pleasing projects this year.

IV- BBNG 

         Aptly named 4, the now Jazz Quartet (previously being a trio) celebrates the beginning of a new era for one of my favorite bands out there. In adding Saxophonist Leland Whitty, the already dynamic group was given another layer of sound to work with. This album sound like the results of a the one long jam session, wherein the group plays off of each other perfectly and songs are more akin to conversations that they recorded with their instruments. There is a bit of a vintage tinge to this album harking back to the 60’s and 70’s era of the stereotypical Jazz musicians who never leave the studio, but this is not a bad thing. Outside of their trademark tightness and lavish solos there are even vocals hidden through this album. Sam Herring and Mick Jenkins both make an appearance to the album in order to give it a dash of experimentation and flavor, but even in their fantastic cameos you never forget that this is a Jazz album. The kind of album you put on at the end of a long day to relax and let yourself get swept away by BBNG’s lush tunes.

            99.9%- Kaytranada 

            This album reminds me of a planetarium. Through the upbeat and dance provoking rhythms, House producer Kaytranada takes you on a trip into his mind. Once inside you are treated to bright stars in the forms of the many guest artists on this album, all leaving a distinct touch that blends perfectly with Kaytranada’s wavy sound, and vast space as the music lasts a lifetime but never feels like it is overstaying its welcome. This is an album designed to make you move, but if you decide to sit and listen instead you can find the myriad of details in each song that feels almost like discovering musical secrets you weren’t meant to find. The tracks all feel like they are doing their own separate thing, but all come together under the theme of being a byproduct of one artists colorful vision. There are splashes of synths, dabs of heavy bass, a light coat of rap/sung parts, all on the decorated canvas of steady drum loops. Kaytranada upholds the tradition that DJ’s are and always have been musicians, and can make amazing music without ever having to touch an instrument.

            Atrocity Exhibition- Danny Brown 

            This one of the darkest albums released this year, wherein Danny Brown sounds like a person at the end of his rope trying to cope with his own insanity rather than recover. It is a twisted stream of conscious that often sounds, musically, like a nightmarish carnival. With that being said, I loved every minute of it. Raw is a term often used to describe rap that is grittier in its story telling and therefore perceived as more “real” in some circles, yet on this album we see raw in a new light. Here raw is a rapper saying anything and everything on his mind, opening up a dependency on drugs and reminding us of his trademark sexual appetite. Sonically the album is diverse, but every peg of that diversity hits some sort of dark corner, from haunting old vocal samples looped in creepy ways to blaring horns that could not possibly be perceived as anything but maddening. All the while Danny Brown navigates this hellscape like he was born in it, which is both impressive and depressing. While some people may ask for an artist to invite them to their world, the menacing rabbit hole that is this album may be more than some bargained for, but if you survive the trip you are treated to one hell of an experience.

            Splendor and Misery- Clipping. 

            A week after having watched Alien for the first time I listened to this album, and throughout listening to it, I kept hearing semblances between the music and the suspense I felt watching Ripley hunt down the Xenomorph. This album is a conceptual story about a lone space survivor on a ship from the experimental Hip-Hop trio Clipping, whose musical arsenal includes such things as power drills, steam hisses, and electrical currents.  The main MC for this group, Daveed Diggs (known mainly now for his role of Lafayette and Jefferson in the musical Hamilton) has slowly become one of my favorite writers in Hip-Hop. He possesses a lethal combination of lyrical dexterity and the performance skill to back it up. His verses on the album are often delivered at breakneck speeds but still contain novel worthy passages about the albums main hero, Cargo #2331. Through the album’s clever use of experimental production that is made to sound like the interior of a large industrial space ship juxtaposed with gospel A Capella provided by the group Take 6 (which are meant to simulate Cargo #2331’s faith), listeners are hear a story of struggle and desperation. This album has challenged how I approach my writing, showing me different ways of telling a gripping story without having to rely on expected musical elements. It may not be the easiest listen if everything you listen to is pretty and resolves nicely, but the experience of hearing 2331’s tale is well worth it.

            Bucket List Project- Saba 

Saba is a Jazz fueled record producer and rapper who is the first of many artists on my list from the Chicago area, boasting a steady mixture of stark introversion and wild percussion. Much like the title suggests; the album is thematically about chances and opportunities. Just about each song ends with a person explaining what their bucket list consists of over the phone, people ranging from Lupe Fiasco to Chance the Rapper. The songs preceding these interludes often reflect Saba’s own desires from his personal bucket list. We are given lyrics that talk about his college experience and how that didn’t end up changing his life like many would suspect, memories of riding around his city when he was younger pretending he was king, and dealing with his family’s history of mental illness. The production on this album is a mixture of smooth neo-soul chords changes, Jazz solos, and excellent drum work, all ranging from live instrumentation to artificial tones. It shows you the side of Chicago that is not often shown without artists pushing the narrative: residents strong desire to help their city grow. The album does its best to show Saba and the many guests involved in the making of it as people. All natives of Chicago who are doing their part to help support and love their city one way or another, albums like this remind me that there is always a way to better yourself and help your kin.

Blank Face LP- ScHoolboy Q 

A modern Gangsta Rap masterpiece, Blank Face does something many people would consider impossible. It gives a voice to one of the most feared groups of Americans in the country. Being a native from the harsher areas in Southern California, ScHoolboy Q is no stranger to poverty and violence; however instead of fearing his hometown he embraces it and shows you what a day in the life is like. Throughout the albums powerful mix of G-Funk, Soul, and heavy production, Q introduces us to the people who inhabit the areas that are heavily criminalized and stereotyped. He talks about drug dealing, violence, sex, and power, yet it never comes off as malicious. The blank face seems to refer to all of these actions being constantly attributed to a nameless faceless threat, when the reality is these are all ideals and survival methods of real human beings. These same people that are grouped together as being dangerous are often misunderstood or have methods to their madness. This album is a testament to the lifestyle that so many have had to succumb to due to factors outside their control, and ultimately serves to remind us all that before they were blank faces and statistics, they were people.

Lemonade- Beyonce 

I have never been a fan of Beyonce, I respect her as a performer but just never got into her music. So when I randomly decided to check out this album, I wasn’t expecting much. I expected a collection of pop singles, but what I got was a carefully crafted story about infidelity and power told through everything from reggae to soul. On the surface the album is about Beyonce having to deal with her husband being unfaithful during their marriage (whether or not that actually happened doesn’t matter). She grieves through her music and goes from rage to sorrow to hopelessness in a matter of songs. All of this was accompanied by the albums visual component which not only gave certain songs new context but shined a light on a bigger issue plaguing Beyonce: the mistreatment of Black women. While upset at her own martial problems, she smartly used this as a chance to talk about vindication of all Black women everywhere. This is a call to arms encouraging her sisters not to let people (especially not their partners) walk all over them. It is a beautiful statement coming from the most cherished woman currently in the music business. By the albums end she wraps it up by forgiving the man who wronged her, showing the burden of being the better person never falls on perpetrator, and once again solidifies herself as a type of role model for the very women she fights so hard to give voice to.

Emily’s D+Evolution- Esperanza Spalding

Esperanza Spalding is one of my favorite artists in music right now. A self-taught Jazz Bassist from Portland, Spalding was the first Jazz artist to ever win the “Best New Artist” award at the Grammys. So far her musical career has consisted mostly of Latin and contemporary Jazz with some Neo-Soul thrown in for fun, but her latest album is a hard turn in a new direction. Now her neo-soul has been replaced with funk and rock, giving her music a bite that it did not have previously. This isn’t to say the music is no longer beautiful, it still very much is, but now she has proved that she can expand her sound and make an incredible album drawing from influences many people did not even know she had. She has stated in interviews that this album is meant to be a sort of spiritual release, and Emily is another part of her that she let loose during the making of the project. This lead to the album taking on a more chaotic and raw sound, since Emily was all about experimenting with new ways to express herself. The pianos and keys we are so used to have been replaced with electric guitar riffs and dynamic vocal work. Without any warning, Spalding changed up her entire musical image and aesthetic in order to satisfy her own cravings as an artist, and ending up crafting one of the most powerful musical projects this year. 

PART 2 HERE!

The Cultural Impact of "The Get Down"

Back at the beginning of the semester I saw a trailer for a show called The Get Down coming to Netflix. First and foremost, I am down for any kind of music show related to Hip-Hop and its culture, but this was advertising itself as something different. Set in the Bronx during the birth of Hip-hop, this drama is meant to show off the culture that grew into a global phenomenon, but from the perspective of the kids that gave it it’s unique flavor. Not only that, but the series was claiming to be a musical, unafraid to embrace more theatrical elements to tell an entertaining but relevant story.

Music biopics are usually hit or miss with me, mostly because the decision to keep their themes so gritty and dramatic usually fails to actually be compelling. This is especially true when it comes to Hip-hop; the dark tone is often appropriate but not very effective. Few films (e.g. “Straight Outta Compton”) do this well enough to keep hold of your attention, teach you about the music, and make you care about the setting that lead to this musical revolution. Presentation, however, is The Get Down’s biggest strength. Even when the themes and story of the show take a darker turn, it never takes itself too seriously. While this may seem like an odd choice, I assure you it is all in good taste. Stories like this would often choose to have their main character be a desensitized anti-social genius of some sort, aware of the darkness of their area but have no way to fight it (that is of course until the plot kicks in). Ezekiel, the show's front-runner, is a smart kid from the Bronx who spends his time courting his crush and geeking out over Star Wars. Already, this protagonist proves to be much more relatable than the dark brooding heroes we have grown accustomed to. The show covers everything from the death of one’s parents, the violence and gang wars present in the Bronx, rape, drug abuse, departure from God, and the slave mentality of the streets all without feeling like it is trying to push an agenda. Many minorities watching the show already know what goes on within their communities, especially if they live in impoverished areas, so having a show constantly berate the Bronx or imply the hopelessness of the city itself would be disrespectful to the culture. The show chooses to view the Bronx through a lens of color, flair, funk, and love.

The Get Down represents much more than the sum of its parts, so much so that trying to fit it all into the tiny margins of my laptop screen seem impossible. But the show does such an amazing job of doing its represented cultures justice. What so many people seem to forget is that although Hip-hop and rap are seen as Black music, it didn’t just come from us. This music and cultural identity was the pushback of all minorities in the outer boroughs of NYC fighting for a chance to have their voices heard and risking their lives (often times literally) to leave their art behind. As such, there is an appropriate abundance of not only Black culture in the show, but an equal amount of Latino culture blended in as well. In addition to main characters speaking Spanish, they are displayed as more than just villains or sex symbols. All of this blends seamlessly into the world created by the show. As I watched it didn’t feel like the show was pandering to my culture and I hope my Latino and Latina friends feel the same.

Next on the list of my favorite things about the show, is the plethora of nerd culture and references that take up the forefront of it. To an outsider this may seem odd, but so much of Hip-Hop comes from the idea of being a superhero. It comes from old martial arts movies that blew in the 70’s and gave kids a chance to learn about Eastern philosophy that revolved around peace and knowledge as well as motivate them to practice the moves seen on the big screen. Through pop-culture these kids were able to escape some of the darker parts of their reality, and make some color for themselves through this new culture that they were creating in basements and block parties. So if at first the show seems to be Karate Kid levels of cheesy, as characters latch onto Bruce Lee’s words and pretend to know Kung-Fu, bare in mind that all these kids had were distractions and and their actions.

In addition to racial and pop-cultural representation, there is also a large emphasis on the LGBT community and the idea of freedom. Freedom takes on multiple meanings throughout the show but freedom of sexuality and the ability to love whomever you chose is a big part of the it. The shows presents these characters as free-loving fashion moguls who ultimately have all the power in the Disco scene of the 70’s. This is another instance of the show being historically appropriate due to the sanctity of disco clubs being powerful and influential enough to sway the music industry.

The Get Down's emphasis on music is top notch, to say the least, but it is also so baked into the show that it might as well be another character. On top of having a killer soundtrack that fuses old school favorites like Donna Summers and new school like Michael Kiwanuka (whose album ‘Love & Hate’ is slowly becoming one of my favorite albums of the year), the seamless transitions of these songs throughout the show was carefully crafted and fantastic. Some musical scenes hit harder than others mind you, but the ones you find most enjoyable will impact you on an almost spiritual level. Hip-hop was never about creating the ultimate form of music, rather it is a celebration of all music. Break beats were created out of anything from Donna Summers to Miles Davis, and the sound it created led to one of the biggest revolutions in music history. Poets, artists, musicians, and kids with no place to go all gathered to share some of the magic that was coming out of the Ghettos and share it with their friends and family. And this show explores not only Hip-hop but Disco and pop music as well, juxtaposing the underground nature of one with the glorified money-making capabilities of the other. All the while our characters experience this music and learn about the importance of each over time, and as they do, so do we as an audience. You will want to dance, fight the power, and cry all before a musical scene is over, and that is as perfect a blend of Black as I have ever seen portrayed in a TV show.

The Get Down is a respectful homage to an amazing culture, hell even the name itself was derived from Grandmaster Flash’s revolutionary DJ-ing technique. As I watched this series it reminded me of my own parents, the church raised singer grown into a harder worker that is my mother and the comic book nerd and martial artist that would become my father. This show is my heritage and tells a story of love and struggle all while never losing its personality. It is by no means a flawless show, but what it does well it does better than anything of its caliber that has come before it. This is the epitome of Hip-hop culture. This is the anthem for social change and love we need in 2016. This is a reminder that we have gone through Hell and still made it back alive.

This is The Get Down, and you need to watch it.

Words in Frame, 8/5

“I swear to god, if we are late because of Ty’s food stop, I’ll kill you both.” Mika crossed her arms and sank deeper into the passenger seat.

“Sorry Mika, but Arby’s and I have a deep connection that cannot be broken,” Ty replied as he grinned from the backseat. "Curly fry?"

Mika took the fry before starting again, “Why don't you care if we are late to our own party?”

Isaac chimed in from the driver’s seat, “It’s precisely because it’s our party that we don’t have to worry about being late, dude. We set up this whole thing so we can show up whenever the hell we want." Ty passed him a fry before smirking confidently at Mika.

“Yeah, plus the headliners are never the first ones to show up; we gotta give the people something to look forward to.” Ty posed in the backseat as he spoke.

“Ugh, whatever, there better still be ice cream when we get there...” Mika looked off in the distance, re-folding her arms.

“Ahh,” Isaac started, “The truth comes out: she just wants food like the rest of us. You just wanted to arrive early to take all the good stuff!”

Mika turned, gave the two boys the same smirk Isaac had thrown her way a second ago, and the three shared a laugh. Their old Subaru rolled down the road en route to the shore where a very informal graduation party was being held. The whole thing started as a joke during the final days of class when Mika mentioned that she wanted to have a potluck on the beach after graduation. Her goal was to hoard as much free food as possible, but someone in band overheard her musing and decided to announce that Mika, Isaac, and Ty were throwing a party. The Trio then somehow managed to scrape together invites, get food donations from local stores they had worked at previous summers, coordinate times, and calling city hall to see if they could reserve a public space all whilst dealing with the whole graduation thing.

“Oh goddammit,” Mika hurried to unbuckle her seatbelt and throw open the car door just as Isaac pulled into a parking space. “I can already see Joe’s greedy ass gunning for the strawberry.” Mika jumped out of the car and sprinted full speed toward the beach, tackling Joe before he could dig into the ice cream.

“Jesus Christ, she’s a monster,” Ty closed the door behind him walked onto the beach with Isaac.

As the trio arrived the 20 or so other partygoers let out a collective “Ayee!” and went to go greet their late hosts.

After all the formalities, the trio proceded to lay down blankets they had brought and enjoy the get together they had so hastily assembled.

“Well…it took us 4 years but we finally threw a party.” Ty was basking in the attention and soaking up the sunny day.

“Yeah we did, but not for lack of trying. Remember that time we were gonna throw a band party at your house but your dad came home early from his conference?” Mika’s interjecting laughs made it difficult for her to finish the story.

Ty popped up excitedly, “Yeah we had to convince him that we were just filming something for Mr. Mihoan’s class?”

“He walked in on a bunch of kids huddled around a table with board games, In-N-Out bags, and solo cups scattered around, and still let us off the hook. What a day...”

“To be fair I think he was just as shocked as we were, he did ask me later if I was part of a cult though.”

“What?! Are you serious? How come you never told us that?”

“I was too busy dying!”

Ty and Mika were doubled over in pain holding their stomachs before they noticed that Isaac seemed intensely focused on something other than Ty’s cult history.

“Ayo,” Ty broke Isaacs line of sight, “What are you looking at  dude?”

“What?” Isaac was snapped out of his daydream, “Oh, nothing, just that log over there.It kind looks like a little mountain.”

In front of where the group was sitting, a jagged log jutted out of the sand. This wasn’t uncommon in this area in any way, but the way the water looked behind the log really struck Isaac as beautiful.

“We really did it guys.” Isaacs’s words were distant and sincere.

“Did what? Throw a party? Yeah we covered that dude, we're onto cults now.” Ty seemed a bit confused.

“Cul- what? No I mean like, we climbed the mountain, we graduated and stuff. We are out.”

“Ahh,” Mika chimed in, “so you were just reflecting on life and all of your school experiences…at this beach party.”

While Ty and Mika were trying to understand Isaacs’s line of thinking, Isaac stood up and just started running toward the water. There was no hesitation in his stride and no sign of him stopping. Instinctively Mika and Ty got up and ran after him, confused as to why he took off but too loyal to not chase after him. The trio took a beeline directly into the water, making waves and shouting obscenities as the cold water clashed with their skin on this hot day. 4 years of turmoil, laughs, pain, and food. They had stuck it out and climbed the mountain. In Isaac’s head they had done the impossible and done it together.

This was their party.

Words in Frame, 7/22

Honestly, he preferred funerals; at least there he didn’t have to fake a smile for 3 hours. The ceremony was beautiful and tears were shed, but all that paled in comparison to the pain his face felt after holding that damn smile.

They were at the reception now so at least he could drink, but the constant buzzing of merriment around his head was still too much for him. The new bride and groom picked an awkward spot near the coastline to host the reception. He wasn’t the biggest fan of the ocean really, but he appreciated its respect of space. Here he could hideaway and not be bother, taking comfort in the company of the oceans eternal waves. On the surface it was pretty and scenic, but upon closer inspection you would find trash littered all over the rocks along the water.

“Hmm, kind of like marriage” He said aloud to himself, before chuckling at his own joke.

“What’s like marriage?” A familiar voice uttered behind him.

He turned to see his girlfriend approaching him, two bottles in hand. A Corona for her and another Angry Orchard hard cider for him. He was living on the edge as always.

“Oh…nothing, just taking to myself” He took a sip of the cider before facing the water again.

“You know, there are bouncers here”

“What?” He was a bit too excited for a potential bounce house at a wedding reception.

“We have bouncers for people trying to crash the wedding, so you don’t have to keep watch of the sea for potential invaders.” She smiled at her own sly joke.

“Oh.” He fell for it. No bounce house. Damn.

“My sister and Ed look so happy together, it’s almost as if they should be together forever or something.” She sat down next to him, tired of standing in her heels.

“Yeah, they should just get married and leave everyone else alone.”

They both laughed before the silence settled in again. She was so good at being around people, and didn’t have to try to be social. On the flip side he was so painfully introverted that even going out to dinner can become an uphill battle on the wrong day. She was ridiculously patient with him and most days he didn’t understand why she bothered. In moments like this though their relationship shined, they were laughing about anything and mocking the world together.

…

“Cheer up babe, the obligatory cupid shuffle is starting soon” She knew exactly how to pull him out of a funk.

“Hmm, I do love me a good cupid shuffle, but I think I’ll pass”.

“Oh come on, all you have to do for that one is move, no smiling required.”

He remained still, watching the water crash into the rocks again. The ocean at least understand his need of solitude, forever yearning for solitude all while people polluted its water and depleted its resources.

“Okay, come on.” She was fed up with waiting and grabbed his arm to lift him up.

“Hey, wai-”

“No ‘heys’ from you, we are gritting our teeth and making an appearance on the dance floor.”

It made sense, after all she was a bridesmaid and had been away from the party for a bit too long, but he still wasn’t happy about the forced interactions. They made their way to the central party area, with ornate arrangements of flowers and lights surrounding a square oak dance floor. The DJ’s booth was covered in post-it notes of songs that people requested, some weird thing that this particular DJ did to engage his audience. Most, if not all, of the partygoers were drunk except for the children present.

 It was his worst nightmare, a loud and large gathering of people he didn’t know. He felt like the world was closing in on him and in that moment all he wanted to do was run back to his safehaven by the water. Then he felt a hand, her hand, grabbing his and pulling him farther and farther into the center of the chaos. He was still terrified but as long as their hands stayed connected he felt as though he was invincible. It was just the two of them, together in the eye of the storm, having and amazing time. The speeches were over, the tears were done, and all that was left was the celebration. For once he would meld into the collective party hive mind and release himself into the wild to enjoy the moment. Across from him was the woman strong enough to pull him out of his own fears, who made him believe it was okay to interact with the real world. His best friend.

…

Later on during the drive home she was sitting cozy in the passenger sit wearing his suit coat and enjoying the warmth of the car.

“See?” she stated, “That wasn’t so bad at all.”

The water he used as his shield now lined their drive home, close enough for comfort but far enough away for him to feel like he belonged with others and, for once, not just with himself. He felt at peace with his reclusive nature, knowing he would always have both a place to hide and the inspiration to leave his comfort zone when need be. He thought about his own future, and marrying the girl of his dreams. He pondered spending the rest of his life with his reason for stepping outside. He smiled, and this one was genuine.

“No,” he replied after a minute, “that wasn’t so bad at all.”

Words in Frame, 7/8

This was it, he was going to die.

He came to facedown on the concrete on a 70 degree day, Jordan never thought his hometown would become his coffin. He was still a bit fuzzy on the details as to why, but he could feel warm blood slowly dripping down his face. How did he get here?

“Stop resisting! Stay on the ground!” a distant voice shouts down at him.

This doesn’t make any sense, he didn’t remember doing anything. He was trying to trace the steps backward in his mind. He went to 7/11 to pick up some drinks for him and his friends. Shit, they must be waiting for him back at the arcade. He tried to get up but could only flop around on the ground powerless. Was he tased? He still couldn’t remember.

“I need backup! I think this is the guy!” The distant voice becomes louder and clearer.

Drumming. He was a drummer, and was air playing along to some ScHoolboy Q song. His earphones were in as he walked out of the store so he couldn’t hear the cop approach him. He saw the sirens but police aren’t exactly a rare sight in Oakland. Then he saw the cop mouthing something. It was him. They wanted him. He quickly pulled the buds out of his ear and attempted to put his hands up, but that was too fast for their liking. There was a quick bash to the head with a billy club before he fell limp on the pavement, out before he could even ask what he had done wrong.

“What is wrong, what did I do? What is going on?” words were slurred and stumbling lazily out of Jordan’s mouth before turning into mumbles somewhere in the process.

“Shut up and stay down!” at this point the cop was on top of him, waiting for his much needed backup.

And it came. In the form of two more cars and 3 more cops. More yelling and screaming and more body shots. Jordan could feel himself fading in and out of blackness, trying his hardest to hold himself together. He needed to remember this, this was his city and he needed to defend its pride. He did nothing wrong and he won’t let them win. 21 years of resentment fueled his rage and kept him awake. It remembered every hit they gave him. It remembered every name they called him. It remembered all the times these situations ended in death, and prevented him from lashing out.

A crowd had started to gather, phones were being taken out, and support was being given from the citizens who had seen this far too often.

“Leave that boy man, he ain’t done nothing wrong!” one voice cried

“Why does it take three cops to hold down one guy, he isn’t even resisting!” another saint spoke truth.

“He comes here all the time; he has never given me an issue officer!” This came from the owner of the store, Howard. He had known Jordan as a customer since high school.

Jordan was broken hearted and soon to be broken bodied. This city knew what love meant but it didn’t matter in the face of these cops. They were getting anxious with the crowd's presence and that was a bad sign. When they tried to throw him into the back of the cop car one of the cops dropped him, and he stumbled to catch himself from falling into the pavement again. He managed to put his hands on top of the car and stopped himself from falling, but they saw this as resisting. 

Shots rang out.

He wondered what the video would look like on the news that night. How his death would be twisted and warped to fit their narrative. Would his mother be blamed in some way? Would his friends be called thugs and hooligans? Would they find another way to tear this city apart? There were screams and he could hear cries out outrage. He never wanted to be another body for the cause, but he never had the choice to begin with.

…

He woke up 7 hours later in Highland Hospital, connected to machines and surrounded by friends and family. They were all crying, hold his hand, grieving. Yet when his eyes opened they didn’t stop crying. He was one of the lucky few, he had survived, a miracle in itself that could make even the most hardened inner city veteran break down with relief. In silence a TV was turned to a local news station, there was footage of a savage beat down the result in what was being called a case of “Potential Mistaken Identity”. He was on display for the world to see, abused by the system that is destroying his people and his community.

No more.

His mother, who had finally stopped crying, turned to him and asked him in the most calm manner possible, “How are you doing?”

His voice was hoarse and it hurt to speak, but he pushed through 250 years of pain to make his statement clear.

“I’m pissed, and they won’t get away with it this time”.

He lay in bed surrounded by his support system, ready to jump head first into the revolution.