There is an old saying I learned early in my life. "If there is no struggle, there is no progress.” Author Frederick Douglas, social reformer, abolitionist, writer and U.S Minister Resident to Haiti. Before that, he was a slave. An American slave. And according to history, he escaped, joined the abolitionist movement and helped others do the same. He obviously viewed slavery as a struggle, decided a change was needed and progressed to become a man of many attributes. I admire anyone who refuses oppression. Even self oppression.
My journey to become a productive human being to society was cemented by my parents. Both hard working individuals with good old all American ethics. One of their greatest commonalities, music. From Jazz to Rock and Roll, Blues to Disco, my Mother and Father loved music. Pops would dance to it and Moms would clean to it. They hosted house parties for family and friends and music was always playing. Those cliches eventually lead to my obsession with music and how it was created. Around the age of 11, my Father bought a stereo set with a turntable, cassette deck and equalizer. The knobs and buttons. The lights and sounds. My mind was instantly overcome with wonder. I had fell in love with music. Playing and recording music. I became the house disc jockey. Curating dynamic playlists for those parties by recording songs from vinyl to cassette that I knew the people loved and would dance to.
Quickly, I learned how to operate, disconnect and reconnect all the parts and functions of the stereo unit. Now I wanted my own system and the foresight and imagination began to grow. My naturally artful mind had been intruded. Because prior to that, I would draw and create cartoon characters. I would say that art was my escape. Once I learned music was art, I knew then that I truly loved music and soon realized it was sound that intrigued me the most. Enter Hip-Hop!
To be continued…