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Editor-In-Chief Jason Flores jflores@rimemagazine.com CREATIVE EDITOR Estevan Oriol www.estevanoriol.com Lifestyle Ric ‘erth1’ Salazar erth1@rimemagazine.com Advertising Los Angeles J.R. Stephens jr1@rimemagazine.com Reynaldo Hererra Rhererra@rimemagazine.com Detroit Atiim Funchess afunchess@oilmediallc.com Marketing Allen Robinson arobinson@rimemagazine.com Ralph Santos Rsantos@rimemagazine.com PHOTOGRAPHERS Estevan Oriol, Hilkiah Browne, Greg Bojorquez, Jorge Peniche CONTRIBUTORS Hilkiah Brownwe, Kristie Bertucci, Marco Villalobos, Estevan Oriol, Greg Bizzle, Allen Robinson, James Dunn, Jorge Peniche Anthony Kennedy, Camilo Smith THANK YOUS Greg B, James Dunn, Hilkiah Browne, Ishmael Hall, Eyeone, Estevan Oriol, PowerHouse Books, Richie Abbot, Oil Media LLC, Gotta Boogie, VisionLab, Greg Miller,Ant Kennedy, Abcnt1, Secret Empire Agency, Marc E, Rey Hererra, Brixton, Robert Redd, Julio Trejo, 5WPR, FYI, AlRob1, JR Stephens, Soren Baker. Rime Magazine is a registered Trademark of RIME, Inc. All Rights Reserved Printed in Hong Kong



Eye of the

I

Crocodile

Chocolate Crocodile keeps it creative, finding ways around the economy’s effects on retails stores. In a time of changes we can still see the recent days when businesses were booming and competition was heavy. As it may be just a short time behind us, our suffering economy doesn’t get everyone’s sprits down. The workers, the creative, the motivated: they’ve continued to grow and inspire those who have decided to stick around by being innovative.

Deep in the San Fernando Valley heils Chocolate Crocodile. A store that’s built and maintained off of the commitment of its founders and considered one of first streetwear shops in ‘The Valley’. Choc Croc has released numerous collaborations with brands like Rogue Status, Estate and The Wild Ones and continues to push forward no matter what the climate is outside. “My family and I have lived all over LA but we always call the Valley our home. When we opened up out here we had people coming in everyday thanking us for giving the Valley what it needed”, says owner Victor Carillo. In the last few years there’s been a bum rush of streetwear and sneaker shops opening throughout the L.A. area, and some have jumped at the opportunities of running their own lines out of their shops and selling it. “I think every independent boutique should do their own line. Their brand should mean something to their local community, each neighborhood

should have its own shop that people can call its own and their line should reflect that. Then you combine that with other established brands that fit your store.” Online has become a big player in clothing in the streetwear arena as well. But the climate isn’t much better up there if you don’t utilize the potential to reach each person on every street. “This is our main way of communicating with our clients and fans. It takes some serious effort to have a blog worth reading and to have an online store with good merchandise. So if you are going to do it then do it right, don’t just post some shit that no one cares about.” The words that Victor puts out there is probably the state of mind most people should have around times like this. When asked about the financial setbacks of the economy and the consumers, he says, “you need to do a lot to stay ahead and stay in business these days. We are always looking for new brands and designers to partner with. We don’t want to just sell their gear, we want to get involved and help them reach our audience in a real and authentic way. Sometimes it’s by bringing their designers to the store for an art show and meet and greet with our clientele and other times is designing a collaboration. Bottom line is it takes a lot of work to be in the game these days and you need to keep innovating.”


“We don’t want to just sell gear, we want to get involved and help [brands] reach our audience in a real and authentic way.” -Victor Carillo


ROME ON FIRE Words by Eddie Gurrola Photo by Estevan Oriol

24-year old Los Angeles native, Rome speaks about Hip Hop like he’s been studying the game for decades. Despite being a new face on the rap circuit, Rome’s been in the background for years, producing groundbreaking records for Interscope/B.Y.I. artist Omar Cruz. But now he’s hungry for his own voice in the game, and he won’t stop until the world hears what he’s got to say.


“My older brothers were always into Dr. Dre, Biggie, and Wu-Tang. An 8-year-old listening to ‘C.R.E.A.M’ and yelling out ‘Cash rules everything around me’ was kind of rare I’m sure, but that was normal to me.”

It wasn’t long before Rome was writing his own rhymes and started making beats in his garage. To fund this new passion, Rome and his brothers started a graphic design business out of the house while Rome was still in high school. “Me and my brothers would sit in our room trying to figure out how to make some money. Any money we would make would always go back to the music. I never had brand new shoes on, but I had some dope ass speakers and a subwoofer! To me that was cool.” A chance encounter with music industry veteran Luis “LuLu” Torres, owner of B.Y.I. Entertainment, changed Rome’s life forever. “I met LuLu through one of my brother’s friends. He was working The Clipse at the time, and he needed a flyer done for a B.E.T. party. When he came into the room, he said, ‘Yo, do you guys know of any rappers? I’m looking for hot rappers.’ I told him to check out my music.” While LuLu wasn’t too enthusiastic about Rome’s persona as an MC at the time (“I could tell he wasn’t too fond of it,”) he was very impressed by his production skills. “LuLu told me, ‘I like what you guys are doing over here. I’ve never met young cats grinding like this.’” Over the next couple of years, LuLu took Rome under his wing and brought him in the studio with producers like The Neptunes and Cool & Dre. “When I was in

the studio with Pharrell, he told me, ‘Yo man, when you make your beats, make sure that they’ve got that certain swing to them.’” That swing became Rome’s signature “Latin soul” sound. He would go through his mother’s old Spanish records, chop them up, and add a hip-hop spice to them. Rome’s big break came in 2006, when the “City Of Gods” mixtape by Omar Cruz that he produced caught the attention of Interscope Records. Shortly afterward, B.Y.I. signed a 50/50 joint venture deal with Interscope to release Omar Cruz’s album “Sign Of The Cruz”, and Rome was positioned to produce the majority of the record. “The experience I’ve had working with Omar Cruz has no price tag on it. It’s almost like a rapper’s internship. I picked up how the game worked.” With “Sign Of The Cruz” set to drop later this year, Rome has also been busy in the studio, working with Rick Ross, Jim Jones, and Busta Rhymes among others. But now, Rome’s taking it upon himself to step up to the mic and pursue his number one desire. “I’ve made a lot of beats, and I’ve done a lot of records, but I really want people to hear my story now.” Rome makes new records every day, and releases nothing but free music online with a sole purpose of gaining a loyal fan base. “I could have zero dollars in my pocket, but have the biggest smile in the world on my face, because I know I’m working toward my future. My mom would always tell me, ‘Today we’re going to eat tortillas and beans, but tomorrow we’re going to go to that buffet you guys like.’ That’s how I live my life. I’m gonna sacrifice today for a better tomorrow.”


WORTH THE WAIT William Crawford, better know to the world as Ya Boy, settles at the dinning counter at Johnny Rockets on Melrose Avenue, ready to speak his mind as he knows people’s ears are open. Words and Photos by Jorge Peniche


A

Arriving over three hours late, he calmly sits down alongside his entourage, consisting of his mixtape DJ, engineer, artist, and several homies. He then proceeds to remove his iced-out grill from his mouth, take a bite out of a buffalo wing, and begins to converse with my assistant and I as if he arrived not a minute late.

Ya Boy is no stranger to the music world. He’s been on the grind for over eight years and counting. He has worked with hip-hop heavyweights The Game, Lil Wayne, Dr. Dre, E-40, Cool & Dre and DJ Skee - all while being unsigned. More recently, Ya Boy has teamed up with Dr. Hollywood to bring the world “We Run L.A.” which has found itself in heavy radio rotation in recent months, and has also ushered in his new alias of YB the Rockstar. “Dr. Hollywood, they’re excellent producers. They produced the song and I just came in and wrote what I felt. It’s about a girl, or a bad female, coming to L.A, and she wants to make it. Whatever she wants to do, be a movie star, a superstar, [or] a supermodel. We just runnin’ through L.A. I’m showing her L.A., Rodeo Drive, [and] Melrose,” he explains. Ya Boy, 25, is excited about the success of his music, but feels that his work has merely begun. Having worked with several heavyweights while being unsigned has proven to serve as inspiration and a great resource to soak up game. Although originally from the Bay Area, he never was on the yellow bus going dumb, or ghost riding his whip up and down the streets like many of his fel-


low Bay Area homies. Instead he decided to create his own lane, and managed to dodge the hyphy movement by moving to Malibu in 2005 with his uncle, Phat Rat. The move to Los Angeles immediately resulted in many opportunities, many of which he capitalized on. One of the most peculiar encounters happened in his new stomping grounds when he linked up with Britney Spear’s baby daddy Kevin Federline, to work on his debut album Playing with Fire. He shared his thoughts on KFed, saying “Working with Kevin Federline was just fun. I was young, I was fresh off the streets. I don’t have no problem with KFed at all. Nigga’s a pimp if you ask me.” Phat Rat later gave his nephew another bar by introducing him with his long-time friend The Game. Having had a long-running history with Game since his heydays in Compton, Phat Rat assured that his nephew learned the game from the best. Soon thereafter, Ya Boy found himself in the studio with The Game and his Black Wall Street camp, churning out The Black Wall Street Journal Volume 1. He showcased his talents throughout the mixtape alongside Game, Clyde Carson, Jay Rock and other talented West Coast artists. Ya Boy’s most noted track on the mixtape was “100 Bars Of Crack”, in which he spit over Dr. Dre’s “Nuthin’ But A ‘G’ Thang” instrumental. This track alerted the world that Ya Boy was not just another rapper who would soon fade to black. Grateful of the opportunity to work with Game, he adds, “Me and The Game are cool. I love Game. I’ll respect him for bringing the West Coast back. It was in 2002; we was nothing. He woke the West Coast up. He’s like my brother.” Ya Boy has come a long way since his first solo album, 2005’s Rookie Of The Year. His style has evolved over the years. He

describes his sound as “the South and East Coast mixed together with a West Coast twang. I feel like I got everybody. You can’t really tell me where my style is from. It’s the universal sound.” He maintains that his success is not a one-man effort. “I’m not one of these cocky niggas who just do me. I listen to everybody. I just don’t have yes-men around me, so I’m constantly getting better every time.” Several major labels have taken notice, but Ya Boy has refused to sign on the dotted line as of yet. In 2006 he took matters into his own hands by starting Precise Music Group with Phat Rat. The ensuing years have proven successful for the label, and have allowed Ya Boy to build his brand on several levels. When asked what a label could offer him with so much already at hand he states, “I’ve always been signed to myself. Never had an Interscope or a Warner Brothers. Nothing like that, I’ve always just been doing my own thing. Major labels move slow, and I don’t move slow. The best thing a major label could do for me is give me that A-1 marketing plan to take me to the next level worldwide.” Label or not, he explained that his plans remain the same; which are to release his upcoming projects which include an album and a new mixtape set to hit the streets this year called Mohawks And Heavy Metal. Similar to Dr. Dre’s highly anticipated Detox project, don’t expect him to release his album until it’s just right. “I’m not just throwing out an album out there so I can just sell a few thousand units. I plan on bringing platinum to California. I’m just going to make sure everything is right, the marketing and promotion. I don’t like to lose. As soon as everything falls in order, then that’s when I’ll be releasing my album.” Ya Boy, YB the Rockstar, or simply YB, is similar to a scheduled flight to an exotic land. Not always on time, but probably worth the wait.



RISKY BUSINESS Photos: (main pg): Eriberto Oriol

Talk about your start in graffiti. How many years have you been active in graff? I got into writing in High school. It was a combination of loving to surf, and rebellion. I used to Surf all day, before, after and usually during school. When I did got to class I would just sit and draw elaborate waves and write the word Surf all over my desk. Then one day I was sitting in class and this dude from New York was like, What do you write? “ after we went round and round, cause I didn’t know whatthe fuck he was talking about. He explained the whole subculture of tagging and bombing trains in NYC. I was like, I write all kinds of shit,.... Happy Halloween, Wipe Out, whatever else comes up at the time, but mostly I just

draw waves. After this whole interaction back and forth He was like your tag should be Surf, and I was like... Hell Yes! Spray painting the word surf and drawing waves everywhere, I’m down!!! I went out after school and racked a few cans of paint, came back that night and did my first piece. It was this big ugly surf piece, but the next day every body in school was like WOW... and it was on! I killed the school. I was hitting the roof tops, every building and even broke in one night and did a piece that went from the second floor rapping down the stairs to the first floor- a huge wave with a piece that said ‘wipe out’ in the middle. Then when they started buffing every morning I started doing the locker rockers. I would do these surf pieces, I used to




and it would piss everyone off, because I would cover the combinations on the locks. After I blew the spot up and had to change my name. I started writing Risk and set my new goal to be all city. This is when I got into hip hop, and started going to Radio Tron and underground clubs in downtown LA If you had to choose between illegal and legal graffiti what would be your choice and why? I love illegal Graff. I think illegal graffiti is such an important part of the art form. The simple fact is that all the movement and energy comes from doing it quick in the night with all the outside pressure around you. Although where the art has gone now is incredible, I don’t think some guys deserve to use the title graffiti artists. I think a lot of people use this term loosely. There is nothing wrong with being an artist that uses Spray paint as a medium. I don’t understand why some people need to use the title graffiti artist when they don’t actually do graffiti. Stop faking the funk! In my opinion there is no true legal graffiti that has not been derived from illegal graffiti. It’s like what came first the chicken or the egg? Talk about your latest show at track 16 gallery. What was the inspiration behind the show? My show was called Twenty Six, because I have been writing twenty six years and there are twenty six letters in the alphabet. I love doing letters. Although I appreciate Characters, personally they don’t inspire me. With 26 letters I can define the world. I couldn’t think of a better way to define my career thus far. It’s all about the letters, always has been, and always will be! I did the alphabet, each letter in a different styles that is representative of different stages of my career.

What are your thoughts behind the evolution of graffiti? From krylon to Montana brand spray paint. Have things changed for the better? Things have definitely evolved to an incredible level, and it’s great for the art form. I definitely attribute most of the progression to companies like Montana. It’s a bitter sweet victory for our culture. Yes its elevated the quality of work, however I think we are loosing some of the fundamentals. It’s kind of sad to me that kids don’t know the history. How can you know what’s up if you don’t know where it came from? What’s next and what can we expect from risk? I’m working on some shows overseas and still painting daily. I’m heading out to Canada next month with Erni from New Wave for an exhibition. Were working on some Seventh Letter shows in Paris and Korea. Things are good, I’m launching a new line. I did Third Rail for about 17 years I sold the line about 4 years ago. I was happy to get out, but now I got the itch to get back in the clothing game. I’m finally stepping into the 21st century and finalizing my web site, still working with editor on my book coming out at the end of the year. I’m also working with two partners on opening a flagship paint store for “the dopest” paint company out (can’t release the name yet!). The store will have an adjoining gallery, and we are developing some specialty paint products with them as well . Working on a few collaborations with some apparel companies, a few video projects and last but not least finishing my Studio, that’s been two years in the works! O NINE IS MINE!!!!


badmuthaf... With the latest season of Afro Samurai set to begin, we linked up with Samuel L. Jackson to discuss his involvement, favorite anime shows and the game’s debut. How much input did you have in the Afro Samurai game? We talked about different elements we wanted from the original series, and how far we wanted to go for the game to be different. Looking at the finished game, do you like the more cel-shaded graphics of the game over a more photo realistic look? It’s a post-apocalyptic world - it’s not where we are. It’s a mix of the ancient and the modern, and whatever else is combined in it. I don’t know if that would have made a difference in the game, I think the game is very cool-looking now. I think it’s something that will appeal to people visually who play the game, because people want it to feel like a game, or feel like

they’re part of the series. Do you play video games? Some. I tend to play Tiger Woods Wii Golf. Do you feel that video game criticism is justified or should the industry be allowed the same creative freedom that music and film enjoy? Yeah, I think that’s what we’re built on: the freedom to create and freedom to do it. People steal cars, people drive fast, people shoot each other, people do stuff. I don’t know if there’s anybody out there recreating - or maybe there are - but I don’t think are some people out there re-enacting Saw V. People out there know the difference between that and what reality is. Life doesn’t imitate art in that kind of way, and art doesn’t imitate life in that particular way that we know of. Sure, there


are expectations and extremes out there all over the place, but I wouldn’t censor anything. I wouldn’t stop anybody from buying a particular game because it does this. Yeah, kids of certain age shouldn’t play [Afro Samurai.] But it’s all about parental guidance more than anything else. Parents should be paying attention to what their kids are doing. Or they should make themselves aware of what it is. I mean my daughter when she was growing up, if she was interested in a particular kind of music, I made it my business to find out who the hell Weezer and who Greenday was. If she wanted to go to the KROC Music Christmas, I went with her. I was part of that. When she started playing video games, I made sure to look at the kind of video games she was playing. She got the games that people. You have to control the content of what your kids do. They’ll understand what’s real and not, what’s right and what’s wrong. You give them that moral compass. That’s what parents are for. But if you’re not paying attention to your kids and they’re planning

some crazy shit, then they go to school and Columbine happens. And you go “I didn’t know they had that” - well why the hell didn’t you? Your kids can’t have a room in your house that you can’t go in. They wanna say “you can’t come in my room”, well you can’t live in my fucking house! C’mon, who’s the parent? Throughout your career, you have been associated with a number of scifi films. Was that an interest you had growing up? Yeah, I dreamed about that stuff, and going to Asia was way cooler than what I thought it would be: just knowing you’re in a place or seeing things that’s older than your country. You know, seeing a sword that’s like 3,000 years old. The reality is what things are, but it’s more different than what you imagine. When I was a kid we got guns for Christmas. We played gun games, cowboys and Indians, war, we had cap guns. Then when I dis-


“Some of that stuff I saw over [in Japan] was so violent, I mean buck wild.”

covered Asian culture at a certain point, it was very appealing to me; China and Japan, the exoticism and the different kind of world that Bushido was in terms of Samurai culture. What it meant to be loyal, and the concept of death not being the end of the life, made me want to experiment or see and be a part of it. Did you feel you’ve contributed to the Japanese Anime culture with Afro Samurai? I’m part of a minor pop culture phenomenon. It’s kind of cool. When I went to Japan for a blessing ceremony, I actually went to the Japanese [video] gaming show. Whew, how bizarre was it. They have games over there we’ll never see. I guess Afro kind of pushes it, but some of that stuff I saw over there was so violent, I mean buck wild; not to mention the anime girls there walking around dressed in anime girl characters - guys just lined up to take pictures. It’s a very bizarre kind of thing, but to know I’ve effectively done something that makes sense in that particular culture is really cool.

What got you into Anime? I’m not really sure. I had been trolling the comic book world forever, and got turned on to The Ninja Scrolls and some other stuff. Then I was in Japan and they gave me this huge box of stuff that I brought back. They didn’t even bother to put subtitles on. I actually sat and watched them and actually knew what was going on without even hearing it. There was even some weird Hentai stuff. That was wild. I’ve always been into comic books, but my mom was the kind of person that for every six or seven comics I read, I had to read a classic. What other film roles of yours do you think could be adapted to the video game world? I guess any character that legitimately could. Well, maybe two. Roland from Jumper, that could be a good video game. Mace Windu seems to be like, most kids that I talk to that play the Star Wars game, Mace is like the asskicker in that game for them, they think he’s pretty cool. Wait, there actually was a Jumper video game? Yeah, it was terrible. Sorry. Ohhhhh… not my fault. I had nothing to do with it. Maybe they’d make a better video game by making it about Roland.





SELF MADE

Words: Marco Villalobos Photos: Estevan Oriol

No other bike like it in the world. This description applies to most of the bikes Roland Sands creates. Give him an engine and he’ll build chrome alloy steel around it, shape a gas tank for it and fill it with octane to send it burning.


At 34 years old, Sands has won an AMA racing championship and made off with various awards for his creations. Harley Davidson and Ducati have long looked to him to lend his signature look and insider authenticity to their own images. “What we do is a product of our lives, and they recognize that,” says Sands about his collaboration with the more corporate bike world. “It’s not something you can just go find in Missouri, or Milwaukee for that matter. It’s like, you gotta come to the source for that type of influence and I like to think we have that—the guys I work with, we all come from that lifestyle.” Born into one of the country’s foremost motorcycle families, Sands has been around bikes since the age of 5. His father, Perry Sands, an early customizer and parts creator, saw that Roland grew up around manufacturing as well as design.

“I got a school that would be impossible for some one to get,” says Roland looking back at a childhood spent in his father’s shop. “Things that ring true today for me are all things I learned from my dad and just being around what I was around, from racing to building.” Today his shop, Roland Sands Design, is set up right next door to his father’s, Performance Machine. In his lab surrounded by his best men Sands contemplates a design, staring at a bike strapped to the hydraulic lift table in front of him. The bike at this moment is engine, frame, wide rear wheel and coiled shocks. It’s an elaborate design but at this point still a raw open complex



of metal. In the lobby of the shop, sits an early concept bike, the KRV5, which Sands built for legendary racer Kenny Roberts. Like other bikes that Sands has built over the last seven years, the KRV5 is a oneoff prototype. No other like it exists in the world.

“I got a school that would be impossible for some one to get,” says Roland looking back at a childhood spent in his father’s shop. “Things that ring true today for me are all things I learned from my dad and just being around what I was around, from racing to building.”

“This was a sketch and a motor and that’s it,” says Sands as he eyeballs the bike’s length. “Just the engine is what we started with and we built everything else on the bike…from concept sketch to finished running bike in two months, which was just fucking out of control because this bike is all hand built.” “Every time we build a bike, every time I draw something and the next thing I know it comes out and it’s a finished product—a done, running bike I can go out and wheelie and jump and do whatever we want to—To think it just starts out as a thought in my head and turns into this running, functioning, breathing, tire smoking creation, every time it happens I’m amazed; that’s what keeps me coming back for more,” says Sands. “The nature of design is to continually push and change and twist and do new things. People ask me, ‘Dude are you worried you’re gonna run out of ideas, or are you worried you’re going to run out of things to do?’ And it’s like, to me just everyday life has such an impression on me, just opening my eyes to what’s around me. I consider myself to be a real sponge to my environment. If I pick up a magazine, if I look at a piece of architecture, if I go to a different city, I really try to have my eyes open to everything I see, whether it be a light pole, a grate in the street, some fucked up old car, anything.


I try and store as much as I can to have this bank I can draw from in my mind that I can continuously apply to different design problems and all these things aid in my solutions. My environment is a constant push for me to create.”

“There’s not too many people that have the ability to put together a creatively built custom bike with the high performance mindset, and I don’t really think of any other brand that does it like we do it—not saying there’s not people out there that can’t do it, because there are,

for sure. But I don’t know if anyone else has built a business around it like we have.” The fact that each of his bikes is a high performance machine reflects a sort of rule that governs Sands’ work: always combine function with signature aesthetic—not one or the other, but both. In other words, Sands hand-makes bikes that go hard. When someone comes looking for him, they’re looking for a magician who brings dreams to life. No turn signals. No speedometers. No equals.




BACK LL U F N I T C EFFE stie Words by Kri

evan Oriol

os by Est Bertucci Phot

h ne, “Cars Wit dy-shaking tu bo e p th ho rs phi be remem mi-based Every ’80s kid fers from Mia eoo on bw a, su gr to Ti e od that Lady The Boom,” an ybody knows ic scene , but not ever m ake up the mus im sh Tr L’ to y al ad du re d an ck se p, Plea Mr. p, is ba rty-pap hip-ho half of the grou pa d re pi ns -i to club with her ode . ox B m Boo



is bringing back some of the traditional sound elements that L’Trimm was known for with her solo album. “[The sound of BoomBox] is an evolution of L’Trimm, with a little more Lady T all grown up,” she describes. “It’s the ultimate summer-barbecue-boogie album.” While L’Trimm disbanded in the early ‘90s, Lady Tigra was busy still concentrating on her craft, besides doing other things like moving to NYC, where she managed nightclubs. Eventually, she went back to Miami to help a friend with a clothing line. “I’d been making tracks for fun with close friends throughout the years,” she says. “I had a collection of songs with one of these friends, Jacob Bercovici (aka ‘Mr. Sandwiches’). When he started his label, he asked me if I’d be the first artist, and if he could use some of our songs to put out an EP. The EP turned into an album and Please Mr. BoomBox was born.” Currently, Lady Tigra is back in the City of Angels doing music again. While the female duo of L’Trimm (that also consisted of Lady Tigra’s high school friend Bunny D), were the predecessors of some of today’s funky girl acts like Peaches, Fannypack and even Gwen Stefani, Lady Tigra isn’t trying to forget her musical roots, and

There are a ton of surprises, including a couple of songs in French and Creole, like “Cauchemars” and “The Fall of Tchitchi.” She breaks the record down handily. “There are samples from old Tahitian records, funk and punk rock influences and some songs sound like spoken word to a beat. It’s got some dark moments and some funny moments. But it’s all still bottom-heavy and old-school, like me. ‘Bass On The Bottom’ is vintage Tigra.” As for the title, Please Mr. BoomBox is Tigra’s lament for a lost era long gone, from which she originated. “It’s a demand and a plea to radio, the music industry and recording artists to return to a more open and creative format,” she says.


“It’s getting harder to tell one artist from another these days. I feel like if I hear your voice and your flow, I should know it’s you. There seems to be a fear of straying too far from the herd, and radio’s gotten boring and repetitive as a result.” Besides the monkeysee/monkey-do business of the industry, Lady Tigra is also adjusting to the role technology plays within music. Coming from days when music was out on cassette tapes, she’s finding her place in an Internet-driven music industry. “Video killed the radio star, and the Internet killed the video,” she says. “People tend to download singles instead of an album. As an artist, your B-sides were where you took chances and where your fans got to hear your entire message, rather than one expression. I think songwriting has suffered for that.” Despite the trend toward hooks and catchy riffs many artists follow, Lady Tigra is adjusting to the new industry, and taking it all in this time around, having grown as an artist. Given Lady Tigra’s influence over today’s sassy chick acts, it’s only natural that her music in turn is being compared to

that of M.I.A and Santogold. But Tigra doesn’t mind; in fact, she’s honored, and digs the sounds and styles that these girls are putting down now. “I really get a kick out of the comparisons of these girls to L’Trimm, then my solo stuff to them. It’s always an honor to hear you’ve inspired a sound, especially when you like their music.” In fact, Tigra hopes to inspire more girls to get involved with hip-hop. Her advice is, “get creative with it, and keep it classy while still being sexy, and be fearless in your expressions!” Lady Tigra is loving her second chance in the music industry and hopes to be super successful as a solo artist, but sometimes still reminisces of the fabulous days with L’Trimm. “I do get really nostalgic and miss working with Bunny at times. That’s inevitable; we’re still close. I’m lucky that I get to collaborate with so many gifted people, though.” As for collaborations she’d love to work on for future projects, Lady Tigra is open to new ideas and working with others who share her mentality toward music. “Most recently, I’ve been writing for other artists with my friend, Nicole Morier



of Electrocute. It’s been a lot of fun, because you have to think about how another person is going to sound delivering your ideas. We’ve hit some strange territory but it’s really gratifying. You get to create, but the pressure is off you to be the front person. I’d also like to work with Bunny again, and my mom.” The future is endless for Tigra as she embarks on a new journey as a solo artist, and she sees nothing but possibilities with her music. However, instead of looking at music from the eyes of the child she was when she first came onto the scene, Tigra is approaching her revamped career with a more mature approach. “I’ve always enjoyed what I do, but as a kid that’s all I cared about; ‘do I like the music, and am I having fun?’ As an adult, those things are still really important, but I treat it as a business as well. I’m also more open to other people’s input in my creative process, and patient with people who don’t seem to know what they’re talking about. Sometimes a lack of experience leads to some really genius mistakes. Bunny and I used to be like, ‘what does this old, white cat know about rap music?’ Now I’m more likely to say, ‘Gramps, what do you think about this beat?’




Photo ON CANVAS Robert Standish (artist, painter, photographer)

“I photograph ideas of what I want to paint. Once I have an image that inspires me to take it to the next level, I do a sketch of that image onto a wood panel. From there I start my oil painting. It’s a long process from start to finish anywhere from two to six months. It’s a labor of love a love of labor.”


Are these your photos you paint? I paint from my own photos, with the exception of the October Flaunt cover art I did of Gael Bernal Garcia. He was in Paris at the time and I was juggling my painting schedule for my upcoming October/November exhibit in Chicago along with the release of a new book of my work. The magazine had the photographer study my work before he shot it for me. I was pleased with the results and from there, I made some changes to the lighting, etc, and then added in a veiled background of blurry lights. They actually were from another painting of mine. I guess that’s like quoting myself. Do you consider yourself a photographer? I rely on my photography to produce a study for my paintings. I was very surprised when the LACMA purchased some of my photographs. What was your first introduction to artwork? I got into painting around age 30. I was too caught up in the clubs in my twenties to get serious about art. But one mellow weekend out of nowhere I just got all fired up to spend a lot of my money on oil paints and brushes. About three years later I was showing in galleries. I couldn’t interest anyone. I knew into posing for a painting. Nobody wanted to spend that much time with me. That’s okay, I felt the same about them. I have this one friend; when she would come over she’d always try to



steal stuff. First it was little stuff like loose change .She’d drop some of hers, all slick, but coincidentally pick up some of mine. But then it got into serious theft, like my Seamonkeys. True, they never hatched fully, but for her to drink the water from the glass their little dead aborted seamonkey corpses were in and play it off like she was thirsty and didn’t see them… I know she was trying to kidnap them. Anyway, I went back to school for psychology and was working with youth at risk . I dug the interaction with the kids, and I became a big brother to one of them even after I made the full-time transition into painting. But painting is what I felt was the direction I wanted to fully go. Where do you want to go with your art? If the work inspires people to reflect or to create themselves, then that would be far enough. But I’m all for having my picture on the cover of Rolling Stone, if you know what I mean. In the meantime, I just am really grateful to have something that I’m really into, and that has kept me feeling that way for a long time. Last thoughts? I started producing limited edition giclees of my painting. They are the highest quality ink-jet print of my paintings, and are real hard to tell the difference from the original. They are available through my website, robertstandish.com. They are not the cheap ones you see mass-produced; as a matter of fact, they’re printed by the person who coined the term giclee. Got a double volume boxed

book of my work that can be ordered on my website or at theofficialrobertstandishstore.com. I love my girlfriend; she’s my single greatest muse. She has been very nurturing to me through the intense painting sessions as well. She brings me water and protein bars, and as the wee late night hours fly into the next afternoon, she tells me to get my crazy ass to bed. It’s important for an artist to have that kind of support. It takes a special type of personality not to feel threatened by someone’s other love - especially when that other love seems to have no identifiable beginning or end in sight.



JERRI

LEE

By EstevanOriol.com


JERRI LEE






Nipsey Hussle

THE WEST IS WATCHING Words by Camilo Smith Photos by Estevan Oriol Why did the West Coast’s latest rap prospect have to go to New York City to get a record deal? After all, he built up a solid local fanbase over a short period by flooding South Los Angeles with mixtapes and posters. The Game swore before God on Power 106 that this rapper, a Rolling Sixties Crip, was the next hip-hop star born out of L.A. gang culture to take the rap world by the throat. But with those accolades and a street-certified mixtape presence, Slauson and Crenshaw’s Nipsey Hussle had to travel more than 3,000 miles to lock down a major label deal because, as he puts it, his standing in the Sixties worked for his street cred but against a major offer from Warner Music, Interscope and Capital, among others.



To give you an idea, consider the fact that LA gang Rolling Sixties Crips (RSC) are on the FBI’s 2009 assessment of national gang threats, a list that includes MS13 and La Eme. Over the past three decades, this Crenshaw District set, has been the focus of LAPD crackdowns and Los Angeles gang injunctions. Still, even given such dangerous affiliations, according to one major label exec who didn’t want to be named, Hussle’s lack of a deal had less to do with a story of prejudice towards MCs who represent West Coast gangbanging, and more to do with the overabundance of L.A. rappers already trying to get a deal. Nipsey is just waiting his turn for the limelight. “From a major label perspective, as far as cats out of L.A., Bishop Lamont and Glasses Malone had been making a lot more noise than Nipsey. His buzz just wasn’t that strong to me,” the executive said. He’s long been a known member of RSC and many in L.A. gang circles know him as Thundercat . He’s considered one of the rising stars of the South L.A. gangster scene which includes Jay Rock, who has ties to the Bounty Hunter Bloods. But Hussle says he’s just like any other businessman when it comes to his rap career, and he takes a lot of pride in his independent music grind. Along with his team, he’s generated 50,000 units of his mixtapes for the streets. Nipsey’s first collection of songs blasted onto L.A.’s underground just a few years ago, and immediately drew comparisons to a young Snoop Doggy Dog. He’s got a G’d up charisma molded from time putting in work on the street, and his wordplay is unmistakably the product of a rap style honed through years of practicing and taking encouragement from O.G.s in the hood, including the well-known Rolling Sixty, Big U. His combined Internet and street presence paid off, because his music reached across the U.S. landing on the desks of executives in New York. Before long deals emerged with Def Jam, stewarded by the late Shakir Stewart, as well as with Epic records. “It was interesting that I had to go way to New York, way to the East Coast, for a label to really get involved,” Hussle remembers. But it was a guest shot on the 2006 posthumous 2Pac album, “Pac’s Life” that really opened the world up to Nipsey’s flow, and let radio and the L.A. music industry know quickly, they had to pay attention. For Hussle it was a long step-by-step process. “We were independent for a long time and was doing it out the trunk. We kind of like adopted the Bay Area grind.” That same grind was successful for rappers up North (and even contributed to Game’s success) and generated enough buzz, along with an aggressive guerilla marketing campaign that included posters on light poles for miles up and down La Cienega Boulevard and throughout the Crenshaw District, to get Hussle a Felli Fel-hosted mixtape along with invites to several major label offices. He can flow with a seriousness of a seasoned street vet, which includes all the gun talk, cautionary street tales and odes to fallen soldiers that you would expect from someone who’s spent a significant amount of time in the L.A. fast lane earning his stripes. As his major label prospects started increasing, Hussle says his frustrations grew in turn. After the handshakes and listening



sessions with the majors, the followup calls to come back in and sign the paperwork with the lawyers never came. “Every time we was fittin’ to come sign, it’s like somebody would give [the label] a phone call and they would let them know who they was really dealing with. Like, ‘Them is the 60s, or that’s Nipsey from Six-O, you don’t want to have another situation like Suge Knight and Death Row.’” Of course, coming from such a notorious set, some of his elder homies tried to talk him out of rapping about gang culture, since it could hold him back from getting a mainstream deal. But after putting in so much hard work, he had do what he must. “I’ve always been pursuing it as a dream, but as far as doing it as a career and really putting in the hours every day and being in the studio, you can say I was actively pursuing rap since I was 14.” Now 23, Hussle has been flying under the radar close to a decade, until now. He tried to take the right path early on, following his love of music to attend Hamilton High School near Beverly Hills. But it didn’t prove to be as promising as he’d hoped. His original goal was to get his hands on all the musical equipment the magnet school provided; he says the school focused on learning an instrument and not on getting into a studio to rap. “Their focus wasn’t on hiphop. They wanted me to learn to play a violin or something like that.” Hussle kicked off his mixtape grind with “Slauson Boy Vol. 1.” It caught the ears of the L.A. streets with its raw tales of Crip culture and observations from the kind of MC who’s actually put in work.

A varied rhyme style spitting sincere hood tales about rich rolling and Slick Rick-type storytelling with all the hard R’s you would expect from the gangster lexicon are there. By all indications, even the mixtape cover which featured Hussle standing in front of some South Central projects all give claim to the fact that this rapper wasn’t faking jacks like former prison guard Rick Ross. He was not only a gangster in the studio, but also on the streets. “I don’t go around saying I’m the hardest Crip, or nothing like that. I just speak about the reality of my neighborhood,” he said while cruising down La Brea one weekday in February, taking care of a few errands. In contrast, his neighborhood sits miles away from the calm of the Hollywood area and relates more to the long history of gang violence that has left the Crenshaw District and Slauson Avenue a place to be careful when holding it down for any gang, whether Crip or Blood. He could very well be one of the most visible representatives from his hood to make it in front of the mic. When asked about other rappers claiming RSC, he says Kurupt doesn’t count. “I’ve been out there since ‘85 and I never seen Kurupt. I consider him a DPG, not a Rollin 60.” Hussle was one of those young kids you see on the block. He’s an ‘80s baby, a first-generation gangbanger who followed his brother Black Sam into the ranks of the Rolling 60s. Hussle’s background is perhaps unlike many L.A.-bred gangbangers; his father is of East African decent, and immigrated to L.A. from Eritrea. He



later met Hussle’s mother who grew up on 5th and Slauson, which is where the family settled. But in the end, it didn’t matter where Hussle was raised, or what group he’s affiliated with. Though the music industry may have hesitated in giving Hussle a contract, he eventually secured one in 2008 - in the middle of a recession, no less. “I’m signed to Epic and we did a deal through a company called Cinematic Music Group. They basically got a joint venture with Epic for my project.” DJ Skee, who helmed Hussle’s last two mixtapes and became a major supporter after hearing Hussle flow years ago, feels this MC could break out of the West in the way the Game did before him---with the right national record, of course. Even with the major co-signs he already has, Skee says securing corporate support for Hussle, or an artist in any music genre for that matter, is a tough sell these days. “The whole endorsement game right now is messed up, especially after the Chris Brown incident. He was a clean-cut figure and now corporations pulled back the campaigns they had money invested in,” the hip-hop entrepreneur and radio DJ said. “It makes it even harder for a gangsta rap artist, but on a different note,” Skee adds. “Companies know what to expect from that realm already, so it may not hurt it, although it’s tough for any true endorsements for rap music in general.” Hussle, as his name implies, is all business when it come to this rap game. He’s attuned to the need for 360 deals, and all the moves the companies are making to snag new artists. For him, it was all just a matter of grinding and patience. No set tripping. He knows that to be alive in his early 20s, with a label deal, is all he needs to help bring a new spin to West Coast music. In April he’ll wrap up a national tour with Game in anticipation of his debut album, South Central State of Mind. That tour, in many respects, is a passing of the torch between one West Coast cultural icon to perhaps, the next.



1969 V. 2009 “It’s hard to ascertain how the people of the Sixties would have responded to the crises of today”

Words and Photos by James Dunn Of all man’s fantasies, the afterlife looms largest. Our pursuit for some sense of terrestrial understanding of the fate that does or does not await us beyond this earth ends only when we are sent off it to find out firsthand. We are so transfixed by the eternity yawning before us that we never consider the one we emerged from. The longer we spend looking down the road in the direction we came from and asking ourselves what’s back there beyond the horizon that we can’t see, the more our minds begin to wrap around the idea that the ether on both sides of us is one entity, surrounding us like space does the stars. And with that understanding comes only more questions. We watch dead actors chatter away in black and white movies, and nod along to tales of dinosaurs and Romans and Nazis and all the other forces this world has played host to at times when we were nowhere to be found. Even then, we had been nowhere for an uncomfortably long time, such a long time that the word ‘time’ becomes inadequate.


9

The 30-and-younger among us don’t know where we were in 1969. We definitely weren’t here. But we’ve seen, heard and read so much about it that we could be forgiven for sometimes feeling like we were. It is and has long been the most familiar year in today’s pop culture consciousness. Its mention instantly summons the same visions in everyone. Tie-dyed hippies clashing with police truncheons. Mammoth hoses spraying African-Americans against the creaking walls of dilapidated buildings. Plump army helicopters cruising over smoldering rainforests. To hear the books tell it, 1969 was the year the American dream and the American nightmare blended into a race war fantasy in Charles Manson’s head, a murky Vietnamese swamp a continent wide. History distils the past to its extremes, and the images at the other end of the spectrum are only slightly less universal, a fact that owes itself to our unquenchable fascination with tragedy. Earth, momentarily obscured behind an astronaut’s helmet as he glides in slow motion across the Moon’s surface. The sounds of some of the most revered figures in music, blowing over the heads of 400,000 people in a field in upstate New York. The implanting of the first artificial human heart. Those are just the most symbolic of the events that rang out the Sixties, but by no means its only significant ones. A botched police raid on New York City’s most notorious gay bar turned Manhattan into a week-long riot scene, and the Stonewall Inn into the emblem of the gay rights movement. A snitch named

William O’Neal drugged 21-year-old Fred Hampton, deputy chairman of the Black Panthers, then considered the American government’s biggest domestic threat, before Chicago police officers entered his home and put two bullets in his head. A former civil engineer named Yasser Arafat became commanderin-chief of the then-fledgling Palestine Liberation Organization, going on to become the world-recognized face of the resistance. A Haitian immigrant introduced a virus then known as Gay Related Immune Deficiency to the US, according to AIDS researchers comparing Caribbean mutations with more primitive African strains. Every year has its own claim to fame, and without any one of them, this world would be almost unrecognizable, a cosmic alteration a million Marty McFlys couldn’t achieve. But only certain years are truly pivotal ones, years that redefine the attitude and course of a nation. 1969 was such a year. 2009 is going to be another. History and economy share many parallels: man-made constructs that we can record and speculate over, but ultimately can predict no more accurately than we can our lives. Our surest tool is a keen eye for the patterns that precede those years when one or both pots boil over: a period of relative calm in the ocean, punctuated by occasional ripples that seem to dissipate almost as swiftly as they form. And in calm waters, the world kicks its feet up. The frailty of peace and the dogmatic vigilance it demands is forgotten. The t’s start showing up uncrossed and the i’s begin popping up undotted, and finally, when the bill has grown so lengthy that we can’t see


where it begins anymore, we wake up one morning and the entire tangled mess has collapsed on our heads. It’s only as we sit in the shambles and rifle through the detritus for answers that we notice the devil peeking out at us through the details.

Every year has its own claim to fame, and without any one of them, this world would be almost unrecognizable, a cosmic alteration a million Marty McFlys couldn’t achieve. Belts tighten as losses mount, and the blare of sirens overlap into a united wail that sends us into the streets, streets that are all some of us have by then. And when the people slam the fences of that big building on the hill and tear through its layers and burst into the hidden room at the center to find that there’s nothing in there, just a bare concrete cellar with a mop in the corner and a folding chair in the other, that’s when rich heads start to roll - heads of states and heads of corporations, instead of just heads of households. When things get dire, humans instinctively ramp up the push towards zero, because at zero there’s nowhere to go but up. Destroy and rebuild. Things never change quite as much or for quite as long as we’d hoped, and they probably never will. Man moves in small steps;

the giant leaps are far and few between. The devil is in the details, but so are the angels. It’s hard to ascertain how the people of the Sixties would have responded to the crises of today: a global economic collapse whose bottom our most experienced financial minds cannot see; a messy war in Iraq that began unnecessarily, but whose outcome will sway the tide of global stability for as long as we live; an infinitely messier war in Israel thousands of years old whose outcome still seems as far away as it always did; and a rapidly mounting environmental catastrophe in the making that could dwarf all of our other problems combined. Entertaining romantic visions of the Chicano, African-American, feminist and gay protesters who flung themselves into the paths of riot police time after time throughout the Decade of Protest in their pursuit to secure the rights the Constitution was supposed to have guaranteed them, it becomes tempting to surmise that they might well have exerted much more of an outcry in the face of the recent injustices that contributed to today’s laundry list of woes than their modern-day counterparts have thus far. However, such comparisons are as irrelevant to 2009 as activism itself. The bedfellows of big business and government have, through their everburgeoning exchange of money and privilege, instituted a monopoly over every aspect of modern American life



which makes the concept of being held accountable to the average citizen seem quaint, almost laughable. While it can still be somewhat effective as one of a series of measures, old-fashioned activism in and of itself is considered a symbolic effort more than one with any promise of real returns. In the Sixties, people were just beginning to explore its power. Forty years later, we know its limitations. However, President Obama’s twin victories in the 2008 Democratic primary and the general election would have been fantasy without the mobilization of today’s youth. It remains to be seen if Obama will be the catalyst for the dissolution of the merger of Wall Street and Washington, but if anything, the young people of today’s integral role in Obama’s stunning coup is proof plenty that, if anything, they are shrewdly learning to fight fire with fire. Man has a curious tendency to assign importance to multiples of ten, particularly with respect to the calendar, as if events somehow play out in tidy ten-year compartments with their own personalities that change as soon as the fourth digit in a year turns from 9 to 0. And of course, they often do, partially because sometimes fate just works like that, but also because we work like that; we sniff out patterns, we snoop for similarities, and we sift for themes, because it helps us make sense out of the chaos. Time is our creation, like history, the economy, and money, and our own lives.

They are all privy to myriad variables: the shifty progress of planning, the winds of chance, the pitfalls of our ineptitude. Bankers looted America for every sliver of the gold that gave the dollars our grandfathers spent their worth, then printed reams of empty paper whose only value was negative, each dollar a debt, and declared it worth every bit as much. And when they figured out that even the cash was unnecessary, that merely typing numbers on the right computer screen could now achieve the same effect, that’s when they realized they could create even more numbers for themselves by making it easier for other people to enjoy some of that action too, even if they couldn’t necessarily pay the loans back. And most Americans were only too happy to play along, until those pesky numbers that went from meaning nothing to meaning something ended up meaning way too much. Today they affect the cash in our pockets, the food on our plates, the place we hang our hats. And in the wake of globalization, the whole planet suffers with us. Sitting in the ruins of a manmade natural disaster, our only salvation is to trace the mistakes that brought us here, and internalize the lessons once and for all. After 2009, the modern world will never be the same. If it somehow continues to be, it will be our failure.


The bedfellows of big business and government have, through their ever-burgeoning exchange of money and privilege, instituted a monopoly over every aspect of modern American life which makes the concept of being held accountable to the average citizen seem quaint, almost laughable.


1998 Wake Up Show Concert Hollywood Palladium, CA Also on the Bill that night: Outkast, The Beatnuts, Cocoa Brovaz & Jay-Z

z y a d y g lor g Bojorquez

Photos by Gre


Top: B-Real & Duke of Psycho Realm Bottom: Dilated Peoples, Evidence & Rakaa Industry Insider Magazine Fiesta Del Sol/Industry, 1999



Above: Eminem, 1999 Hollywood Bob And Charlie Roberts’ Spotlight Tattoo. Em’s first ink by Mister Cartoon. Left: DJ Rob One 2000, at his house


Above: Xzibit 1999, Hollywood, CA House of Blues Right/top: RZA 1998 Downtown LA Unity (Bigga B & Orlando) at El Hacienda Right/bottom: The Lox 1998 Hollywood, CA Back Stage at The Keenan Ivory Wayans Show



G N PRI S & h 6t h Browne

Photos by Hilkia

womens: Fabricali


Fabricali



The Originators


The Originators


Chocolate Crocodile


Stay Tuned .


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