LESSON: Be prepared for change. Change happens. Sometimes without warning. Sometimes with plenty of hints. Change is growth, almost always.


Showcase Details –

A Comethazine Show featuring Lil CandyPaint brought to you by Intelligent Grind. Honorable mention, opener Wes Blanco.


 

Sup folks, Odiwams here. Status is unchanged. It’s still late night edits and early corporate mornings. I haven’t been inspired to write in since JMBLYA. However, recently my path of wonderment dropped me at the doorstep of a Comethazine Show. A meeting brought me to the show, which did not include shooting the show. But as a full believer in a my first true mentor’s mantra – “Stay ready, ain’t got to get ready” – that I am.

 

 

Side note. This guy, my mentor would drive me crazy with this. He said it in almost any circumstance whether it applied or not so much. If you read my first post. I am a former Game Stop employee. It would be him and I in the store. He would be in the back of the store doing whatever and I would be in the front, on the sales floor. I’d hear out of nowhere with 100% seriousness him bellowing – “Young Dave, IF YA STAY READY, YOU AIN’T GOTTA GET READY!! – from the stockroom. In my mind I’m thinking, bruh I’m just organizing GameCube games from A to Z… But he was right. I digress.

 

 

So I’m here waiting to meet as planned. I’m not paying attention to the show. Not even slightly. I’m on Instagram, I’m searching for a classic car on Craigslist. I’m everything but attentive to the show. When i arrive Houston’s own Wes Blanco was on the stage on his last song. Disclaimer – I was allowed in but did not have credits to enter photo pit, so I had my cam stowed. Regretfully no shots of Wes. As I like someone’s post on IG it is now intermission. They are are having issues with the mics which delays the next act. I hear all of this. But I’m still engrossed in my cellphone, now texting. As I pause my text in thought and begin to raise my head, it is at this juncture that the dj screams, “1… 2… 123!!”. Then the distorted weighted bass from XXXTentacion – look at me! drops. I literally take a giant step back in shock and observance of a wild mosh that has formed. Akin to cell multiplication these kids, like organisms, affect everything they touch. My first impression is WTF. But then I pause.

 

 

Story-time Break – Just a little background on me. I am a black man of mixed descent. I identify as black man and am recognized as such most times. “Hey, you creole?!?!” “Yo people from Louisiana?!?!” Those questions happen A LOT. No just mixed. My Dad a black man with some descendency of Blackfoot Indian somewhere in there. My mom mixed as well – Spanish, Mexican, English, Irish. Needless to say I’m a petri dish of ethnicity. As a kid I didn’t want to check myself into a box. I identified as mixed. I wanted to be proud of all of me, which my parents supported. Unlike now, “Other” was not an option back then. Check boxes – Black, White, Hispanic – and sometimes Native American. “Choose one” written in bold letters. My 6th grade reading teacher helped me with this box dilemma once, “What’s ya daddy” “Ya daddy black, you black…”. Growing up I was way more ethnically ambiguous. Kids are mean, and I wasn’t easily identifiable enough of any ethnicity to be in their crew. I spent most of my childhood as an outsider. What this taught me? Acceptance. Now while I am a proud black man and I know this now. I am secure in this, I wasn’t as a kid dealing with a suddenly divorced household and oblivious parents caught up in their own shit. None the less back to the show.

 

 

As I observe this mosh and begin to frown, I see something. These kids are united by the music. All races and colors. It was gorgeous. It’s at this point that I begin to take photos. Figured, the worst they could say is to put my cam away. Then follows the entrance of LilCandyPaint. I had to ask what his name was and laughed for a second and noticed how serious the person providing the name was. “Oh okay…” He starts his set with “I love y’all man”. Cheers follow. He does his thing and I continue to shoot and then the main act comes out, Comethazine. I’ll admit. I am accustomed to a different type of performance. The era of show tracks. Now, you just rap over your own lyrics of your released song I suppose. Different. He would say few bars and the fans would finish the rest. This went on until I departed. Fifteen minutes into his set my meeting began and I departed for the next venue.

 

 

But I left with some thoughts. I am a hip hop late bloomer myself. I didn’t discover hip hop or seek it out until freshmen year in college. One thing that I myself am guilty of is hip hop class-ism. Thinking that one form is superior to another. A friend of mine named Floss is in education, a former rapper(damn good one). He deals with youths daily as a counselor and adopts hip hop trends quicker than anyone in our group of friends. He has been saying “let them cook” for a while. I didn’t get it until this show. Now while lyrical substance may not be the strong suite of the “lil” era rapper. They have done one thing, that in my opinion, the era of hip hop I am accustomed to has not done.

 

The “conscious” hip hop or New York hip hop or classic hip hop or what ever you call it, has been adopted by predominantly black people and people from other races that “get it” – with the exception of outliers that transcend this and crossover. This community is tight knitted and inclusive of others that “get it”. Where as what I observed at this show were people from all walks of life. It was odd looking honestly based on my own personal experiences. Acceptance. Love. We could use more of this. For those hip hop classist out there. Get out of your bag. I’m not going to stream most if not any of the music I heard. However I will accept it and let it exist for what it is. Music. Hip hop. With the turmoil that exists in our Oval Office and everything happening, this is a breathe of fresh air. Who knows what this generation of the “lil” era will be capable of when they start to care. I don’t know about the rest of you, I just started to care when I hit 30. I’m still a work in progress. Until next time folks. Might be a while. Love y’all man.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.