Gunshot Sounds of Seattle: Prometheus Brown's "May Day"

Asked to write a Seattle Times guest column in response to last month's deadly shooting spree in Seattle's University District, Blue Scholar's Prometheus Brown wrote a song instead.  He wrote "May Day" to address the less-acknowledged and more pervasive violence in the city. (Lyrics and media below)

A media spectacle erupted around the May shootings in a city that, according to a ABC news clip, "prides itself as one of the safest big cities in America."

Stirring a firestorm of internet controversy, Pro Brown's "May Day" attempts to debunk the myth of Seattle's"safe" reputation. Do we really know whats going on in "grimier environments," where shootings and other acts of violence happen frequently?

Aftermath of the May shooting spree

Pro Brown's song is dense with layers of references and images (Spike Lee's provocative 1989 movie "Do the Right Thing" reveals Brown's generational sensibilities), but is clear in its indictment of popular media's tendency to sensationalize violence in so-called "safe" urban areas, when violence in the hood is often left ignored. It seems there exists a double standard: some lives are worth more than others.

Pro Brown doesn't valorize the hood or champion its condition.  Instead, "May Day" laments the situation that folks have no choice but to live in and criticizes the expectations made by city officials and commentators that marginalized people must "act right" as "proper citizens" in order to be fully enfranchised. Brown says, "They saying that you gotta act right if you wanna have rights, but what if you were born into a wrong situation?"

Sadly, violence has become normalized in certain parts of town. "It’s something that’s been happening for a long time in the south end." Certainly bounded within the geography of Seattle's metropolis, the song illustrates that the south end is not fully enfranchised. Sure, there is "panic" in Seattle, but there is also an indifference to people's lives in abject areas. Perhaps the disavowal of the conditions of the latter is necessary in creating the mythology and materiality of a "safe" Seattle.

Prometheus also alludes to the danger impacting Philippine journalists who for some time have been "disappeared" due to their investigations of the Philippine military and government.  He urges us to see the links between the dangers confronted by ordinary citizens in the lesser-respected parts of town and that of Philippine journalists who testify to injustices. Both bear witness, and both are vulnerable to death due to state-complied violence.

What happens when our collective consciousness normalizes violence, especially when it is targeted toward groups that are stripped of voice?

How long does it take for our collective consciousness to "wake up" from the numbness, indifference, or ignorance we have towards the chronic premature death of black and brown people?  How many more Trayvon Martins or South Side Chicago shootings?

Prometheus does not claim to have the answers, but he says "neither does a person who practices double standards." 

"May Day" is concise, smart, subversive, and should prompt us to rethink what is being normalized and provoke us to change those grievous conditions.

Never heard of this, city getting murderous —
occupation dangerous like Philippine journalists.
Crazy and deranged they describe him in the same pages
that would call him terrorist, if not for the melanin deficiency.

Gang problem bigger than just juvenile delinquency.
Gangs is survival if environments is grimy.
To begin with — speaking of which, let’s be consistent —
Today is called a tragedy, yesterday a statistic.

I’m listening, before I ever speak upon insisting.
My name is young Prometheus and this is my opinion:
Watch “The Interrupters,” see ordinary civilians
can police themselves before they have to call police for help.

At least a little space to breathe, if you believe all violence
is abhorrent to your being, then why you oversee it?
If the killer wears a uniform but if the killer’s me,
it’s normal if the victim also looks like me.

Shots fired in the south end, nobody cares.
Shots fired in the north end, everybody scared.
Nothing they can do for us that we can’t do ourselves.
Point the finger at the mirror instead of somebody else.

Shots fired in the parking lot, nobody cares.
Shots fired in the coffee shop, everybody scared.
Nothing they can do for us that we can’t do ourselves.
Point the finger at the mirror instead of somebody else.

Can’t lie, I know the music can be influential,
but not as influential as desperation. They saying
that you gotta act right if you wanna have rights,
but what if you were born into a wrong situation?

Moral relativity — that passive aggressive city stuff —
becoming history quicker than you can blink at me.
Rule 1: Protect yourself at all times.
Rule 2: Always end but never start a fight.

Came up in the era of the hand-to-hand scrapping
‘til the drugs happened, now it’s bloodshed at transactions.
I’m calling time out like Samuel L. Jackson
playing DJ Love Daddy with the African medallion.

Tryin’a do the right thing. I don’t have the answers,
but neither does a person who practices double standards.
If every death’s a tragedy then join us when we’re chanting,
and not just when we’re singing and dancing. Too many

shots fired in the south end, nobody cares.
Shots fired in the north end, everybody scared.
Nothing they can do for us that we can’t do ourselves.
Point the finger at the mirror instead of somebody else.

Shots fired in the parking lot, nobody cares.
Shots fired in the coffee shop, everybody scared.
Nothing they can do for us that we can’t do ourselves.
Point the finger at the mirror instead of somebody else.

Prometheus Brown, also known as George Quibuyen, lives in the Rainier Beach neighborhood of Seattle.

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Sunday Cipher: Blue Scholars powered by the people

Blue Scholars "Cinemetropolis" Kickstarter Campaign from Blue Scholars on Vimeo.

Continuing with the scoop on Seattle, we see the Blue Scholars doing it again: finding new and innovative ways to represent themselves and their audience. Since their "new deal" partnering with Caffe Vita and the reverse-signing with Duck Down Records, Geo and Sabzi are now formulating an investment-strategy powered by YOU, the fan. Interesting... Show love.

Artist Spotlight: Seattle Sound with 10.4 Rog

I recently had the privilege to catch up with some down folks in beautiful Seattle. This historically-important city--especially for its labor culture, Filipino migration, and music scene-- represents a critical space for Filipino American community-building through art. Isangmahal Arts Kollective and the Blue Scholars are just two Fil Am-related groups from Seattle that have made a national impression.

10.4 Rog (Roger Habon) steps onto the stage as a young beat producer who is without question steeped in the Seattle music scene. His music has been gaining ample attention, a wonderful feat given his youth. His production on the free EP "Late" with The Good Sin provides you with unorthodox, haunting, but soulful composition. Here is a review of the EP in Seattle's weekly magazine The Stranger. I got a chance to sit down with this incredibly talented brotha and get educated on the Seattle sound. Dude is a bottomless well of information!

(Photo credit: DJ 100 Proof)

Whats up with the name 10.4 Rog?

starting around 2008 i was djing around the city of seattle with four others. as a unit, we called ourselves 'paperboy' for promotional purposes, so that we could have a name on fliers. additionally we realized we needed to bill ourselves for the residency we had, so we took up names. for some reason, i picked '10.4 roger.' when i recorded an edit, or did a blend and put a popular acapella over some industry beat, i would tag my name at the end of the mp3 and share it with the other paperboy djs. over time i shortened the tag to '10.4 rog' and then started making fully produced remixes around 2009. by 2010 i was making more music than i was going out djing gigs. i guess that's how the name stuck.

How long have you been doing music and how did you get in to beat production?

as far as doing music, i can probably date that back to when my parents bought an upright piano. i was eight. i took lessons for two years and quit. i took up the snare drum in the fifth grade, and by the time i was about 12 i was sequencing drums and sampling on a computer. at the end of middle school i was djing on my brother's setup and buying records with my friend at the golden oldies in renton. i started taking piano lessons again in high school, however briefly, but that period of time set the foundation for most of my understanding of music theory. by the end of my junior year i was playing drums on a full set all the way through college, all while messing around on the turntables and with production on and off. making beats to me wasn't a discipline or something that i considered as anything more than a hobby till about two years ago.

What are your impressions of hip hop music in Seattle?

i think seattle hiphop has a unique type of influence on the national scene as a whole. producers vitamin d and jake one have, between themselves, made a name producing for gift of gab, redman, black sheep, de la soul, 50 cent, and freeway and hella more heads. on top of that, those two help put on the highest-profile beat battle in the country: the red bull big tune. out of the big tune competition, producers from everywhere have been able to build a larger following: 14kt, frank dukes, tallblackguy, dibiase, as well as seattle's own brainstorm and kuddie fresh. also, shabazz palaces has garnered huge acclaim in the past year from the likes of rolling stone and pitchfork. they work with theesatisfaction (here and here), two girls who i've had the fortune to know, and have since found audiences in all places. both the two aforementioned acts are signed to seattle label subpop, an indie powerhouse.

j pinder is coming up with the hall of justus camp. noclue, a guinness world-record holder, is doing work with the multi-instrumentalist/producer/mc terrace martin in CA. geo and the blue scholars have a huge rep pretty much everywhere. sabzi dj's for the acclaimed duo das racist. tha bizness are seattle transplants, and have done major work producing for drake/lil wayne, ice cube, mistah fab, and chris brown.

on top of that there's the bgirl/bboy scene and the djs which one might consider a whole other category. and on top of that, there is a huge spectrum of seattle area-based artists and peers that are doing incredible, incredible things musically, and not necessarily in the realm of hip hop, though they identify with members of the scene. there are literally too many good names to drop.

(Photo credit: Aaron Verzosa)

What is your weapon of choice? How do you use it differently than other producers?

just a couple midi controllers (a roland fp-7, an akai mpd32, and at one point a microkorg) and some softwares. i can't say exactly how i use it differently than other producers. i might be utilizing it much in the same way as the rest, to be honest.

Describe your sound.

my sound and approach changes per project. it's hard for me to say exactly what it is or how it comes off, but i will say that i like to play with harmony and time in a weird little way, i like to keep things simple, for the most part, and i like for my music to feel a bit loose.

What is Makipag and how did that fit into your story as a musician?

makipag was a group the homey joseph organized in college to gather artists together who were into making films, writing, performing, or making music. its most visible result was a monthly open mic (we liked to call it open stage to welcome artists that did not necessarily perform with vocals). as far as me being a musician, it didn't play too much of a part, but i did get to exercise different duties as a house band drummer, playing a kit and the cajon on a few occasions.

(Illustration credit: Darvin Vida)

Who are some of the artists you've been working with? How did you make those connections?

lately i've been working with sax g, jarv dee and the cloud nice family, multo, and the good sin, who i just put out an ep-sized project with called "late" where he raps and i produce the music. i plan on working in this format with sax and jarv. i met sax thru the good sin, and jarv dee thru the cloud nice folk, who i connected with after remixing one of their songs. multo is a person i met thru makipag. he's a guitarist and singer/songwriter. i'm very fortunate to know all of them, and listening to their music makes me want to improve on the work i do and the way i work.

I hear you were mentioned in the Seattle Times. What is that story?

i got a placement in seattle times around october of 2009 for remixing helladope's "just so you know". helladope is one of the groups that comprises the cloud nice collective, and the seattle times music writer andrew matson has sort of been writing about my work ever since. i'm fortunate to have that sort of interest from somebody at the times, of all places, but it's nothing at all to be satisfied about. there's always the need for me to try and get better at what i do.

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Hip hop over homework: Filipino Americans "failing"?

Filipino children recite "Jingle Bells" in the classic

Philippine film Tatlong Taong Walang Diyos (1976).

Getting “Stuck”

In a November issue of the Asian Journal, an article entitled “Why Are Fil-Ams Doing Poorly in School?” compares the “poor” academic performance of Filipino American students with the stellar achievements of other Asian American groups. Among other startling statistics, the data gathered by the National Federation of Filipino-American Associations (NaFFAA) reports that “Filipino-American public high school students in the city of San Francisco had the highest dropout rate among other Asians. Those who stayed in school barely passed.” It continues,

“In San Francisco public schools, the report revealed, the California Standardized Test scores of Filipino-Americans in 6th to 8th grades were “Below Basic” in both English-language arts and mathematics. In the 9th to 11th grades, 42 percent of Filipino students were in the “Basic” and “Below Basic” levels in the Star Math test. California schools have five performance levels: Advanced, Proficient, Basic, Below Basic and Far Below Basic.

In Los Angeles, the dropout numbers for Filipino-American students represented 56 percent of all dropouts in the county.”

The last statement, Fil Ams representing 56 percent of all dropouts in LA county, is probably an error. The article’s author, Dennis Clemente, likely (hopefully!) meant Fil Ams represented 56 percent of dropouts among Asian Americans in the county, or he likely meant Fil Ams dropped out at a 56 percent rate within the ethnic group. Whatever the case, the data is troubling.

Furthermore, when it comes to science and math, Clemente notes,

“A 2006 Seattle School District study also found that in the 10th grade WASL test, 73 percent of Filipino-American students failed the science component and 55 percent failed the math component. Both are subjects required for graduation.”

In a December article, the Asian Journal continued the theme of Filipino American student academic underperformance, but this time it addressed their low-rate of enrollment in higher education (four-year or higher academic institutions). Melany De La Cruz-Viesca, a friend of FilAm Funk as well as a former member of the legendary L.A. poetry troupe Balagtasan Collective and current assistant director of the Asian American Studies Center at the University of California, Los Angeles, iterates the crisis young Fil Ams are in when it comes to higher education:

"'We’re not going on to graduate programs or doctorate programs. I think in a way Filipinos are getting stuck and I’m curious to try and find out why that is. Are more Filipino students going to community colleges first before transferring, or are they being tracked into these high school programs that do allow them to go to a four-year university? More and more, I think we’re getting stuck at community colleges or they just finish with an AA degree before getting a job.'

'It’s really telling because if you see Koreans and Taiwanese, they are going on and receiving their graduate and doctorate degrees,' added De La Cruz-Viesca."

Why Are We Running the “Race“?

One question I would like to raise is the comparative value of the (phantom) category of race (here, we are talking about “Asian American”) and its uncritical usage in the two articles. The articles essentially ask, “Why are Fil Ams underperforming in academics when other Asian Americans are doing better (or overachieving)?” I would like to ask, “Why compare Fil Ams to other Asian Americans in the first place?” In the same vein, why compare Koreans and Taiwanese together? Essentially, what “glue” holds these groups together—what characteristics give them comparative value? Is this a biological issue? If so, how is this different from the practices of biological racial taxonomy used to justify racial segregation and differential treatment at the turn of the 19th century? Or maybe this is an immigration issue? If so, for the sake of analysis, why can’t Fil Ams be compared to Mexicans, Haitians, or Brazilians? Why are we concerned with how more “successful” Asian Americans are doing? Why does it matter? The second article's criticism of the state's lumping of all Asians together is a step into the right direction, as the state's determining of racial membership holds a certain aura of authority. We must be self-critical when we redeploy the state's same logic.

A second set of questions I have concerns the meaning of “success”. What does it mean to be “stuck” with an AA or community college degree? Why is receiving a graduate degree at a high rate (especially when compared to Asian American groups) a marker of ethnic achievement? When and why has “success” become a foot race?

Yes, a foot race can be the appropriate analogy if academic “underachievement” of Filipino Americans can be attributed to social ills impacting the Fil Am community. Certainly, there are social ills. But also, there might be (and this is where further research is needed) a hyperbolic sense of crisis imbedded in these articles. Just how detrimental is it to the Fil Am community to receive an AA degree at a higher rate than other groups (as the second article demonstrates), rather than a PhD degree? And, what kind of job market are Fil Ams saturating? Is it lower-paid or middle-class? Is a working-class income (or near working-class income… I understand the arbitrariness of these class designations) such a disavowed concept? Or are Fil Ams really at risk of slipping into the abyss of poverty as the articles strongly suggest? Simply put, is there a sense that Fil Ams somehow deserve to align with the upper strata?

What is interesting about Clemente’s article is that in his inquiry about Fil Am’s “underachievement," he does not interrogate so much the impacts of this phenomenon as much as he offers reasons why young Fil Ams are doing poorly in school. He even questions the role of Filipino genetics, a gesture to the practices of turn of the 19th century biological racial classification mentioned above. Clemente asks, is it genetics or environment? His section, “Hiphop over homework” spells out the environmental threat hip hop plays in poor academics.

Hip Hop Pathology and Alternative Knowledge

Perhaps not as dangerous as the genetics card, the environmental argument of “hip hop pathology” poses a sinister blame game nonetheless.

Not being very specific on what he means by hip hop, Clemente paints a (and I say this crudely) “ghetto fabulous” Fil Am way of life, and apparently it has something to do with “Hiphop over homework.” He states,

“The [NaFFAA] study reported that Filipino students focused their energies more on working so as to be able to buy expensive clothes and cars. Also, they were much more into dancing and singing than studying and earning academic awards.”

Clemente goes on to tell a “success story” of Miguel Cutiongco who attends Harvard as a model of a Fil Am who “made it.” Troubling Clemente’s own genetics proposition, the author points out that Cutiangco’s parents are highly educated, having graduated from the University of the Philippines and Northwestern University. Not many young Fil Ams will relate to Cutiongco, even the most academically-talented students who dot the many community colleges, state colleges, and universities around the nation. Cutiongco’s story is just simply not relevant to most Fil Ams.

What many young Fil Ams will relate to is the hip hop story, which many of us know is not antagonistic to academic “achievement.” Especially on college campuses with Filipino student organizations, hip hop has been extremely central in day-to-day life, with dancing in particular forming a well-known social life among Fil Ams in college. At times this social life gets in the way of academics (this we know for sure), but just the same, this social life also helps us survive and thrive. This social life, as many of us can attest to, has given us a sense of meaning, passion, and wisdom. In some of us, it has even sparked a sense of social justice. For example, in a recent interview, Kimmy Maniquis, a choreographer of Kaba Modern in the mid-1990s, notes that Kaba Modern has been a positive space for community development and organizing. Today, Kimmy is a successful community organizer in Long Beach. Kimmy’s is just one of many stories of Fil Am organizers, educators, artists, performers, and even politicians who gained experience and wisdom within hip hop spaces.

Hip hop has been so central to young Fil Am life—to pathologize it would be to disown the rich texture of our community. This disowning would be a fruitless attempt to exorcise the collective soul of Fil Am youth (and for older Fil Ams who have been immersed in hip hop for some time now). Geologic speaks of our community's rich texture in “Commencement Day”,

“Up in assemblies nobody would listen

Instead rock the mixtape and Walkman

Discrete with the headphones

Threaded through the pockets and the sleeve.

You received education through the music you heard.

Cafeteria tables enable beats to occur.”

As the song goes, sometimes school sucks. The blatant historical lies and the irrelevant lessons just don’t interest young people. Geo continues,

“History repeated you repeat it to regurgitate

Slave-owning dead white men.

Folks, you know they make curriculum

Designed to make obedient drones.”

It is important to be clear that Geo is not criticizing the abstract concept of education itself, but rather the politrickin educational institution that fails students, an institution that is directly linked to the “Benevolent Assimilation” (a code for cultural extermination and colonial social engineering) of Filipinos by white Americans during U.S. colonization. The images of Filipino students reciting "Jingle Bells" included in this entry visualizes the absurdity of U.S. education, where white teachers taught songs about snow, Christmas trees, and white American heroes.

Given this history of U.S. educational duplicity, the notion of “knowledge” is already a fraught concept: “knowledge” for whom and for what ends?

And if hip hop is the story we can relate to, can hip hop offer mental "intelligence"? Can our hip hop performances express our corporeal “genius”? Can our “achievements” be gauged by our knowledge as artists, archivists, dancers, emcees, and poets? Rather than “Hiphop over homework” can hip hop be our homework?

In “Commencement Day,” a song that issues a reality-check to new graduates, Geo educates his listeners about material history, a history deliberately obscured for Filipinos, a history that many young Fil Ams seek and usually fail to find in the classroom. Referencing the Colt 45 pistol used to kill Filipinos during the Philippine-American War in the early 1900s, Geo’s lessons address “us” as Fil Ams rooted in history: we are the here today because some of us survived the Colt 45—our bodies are the proof of our survival. And today, alive in the U.S., we are negotiating the idea of “success.”

“Ay yo we made it

45 caliber proof

And your teachers ain’t believe

That you can handle the truth…

As you recognize

The thresholds of negative stress

The crossroads between

Complete failure and success…”

A Filipino student recites "Jingle Bells" as documentary

footage of WWII atrocities overlap her image.

Hip Hop as Culture to Work With, Not Against

Unlike Clemente, I want to be transparent when I use the term “hip hop.” As demonstrated by the Fil Am student organizations, hip hop is not simply a dance style or musical genre but it is also (more importantly) a cultural and social space which is historically-rooted (rather than a pastiche of aesthetic expressions). Hip hop as a space mobilizes community. This vision of hip hop, rather than pathologizing it, offers a productive opportunity to work with Fil Am youth rather than talk down to them.

Instead of demonizing hip hop and disavowing this central form of expression so dear to young Filipino Americans, perhaps we can view it as a legitimate and valuable resource for alternative knowledge. How can the already-existing elements within our culture enhance our “success” and “achievement”, both in academic life and in the “real” world?

It is important to do well in school, and it is my hope that the dismal data in the NaFFAA study improve. There is no doubt about that. But at the same time, I believe that “success“ is not only limited to classroom learning and higher education statistics. Other sources of knowledge, forms of intelligence, and “success” texture the lives of Fil Ams.

"Success" can also be re-visioned as the gaining of knowledge relevant to our own bodies and history--in other words we can successfully "win" back knowledge that has been buried. Unfortunately, "knowledge of self," which is so central to the theme of this blog, usually does not come from the classroom. For some time now, for Fil Ams, “knowledge of self” has come from hip hop.

In the classic track “Blue School,” Geo spits about the rich “wisdom” outside the traditional classroom and in the hip hop space. Hip hop has figuratively become a part of Geo, and his questions are answered on the dance floor:

“In the Blue School, class is in session,

Ask a question, cuz class is in session…

…And now my arteries connect to the amplifier wire

The music make the flames in my inner fire higher

I reinvent the language in the image of a dancer

Contorting where the floor becomes an answer.

“Primitive” Bodies, “Primitive” Knowledge, and the “Blackening” of Fil Ams

Recent journalism touching on Filipino American embodied (as opposed to cerebral) intelligence is not limited to the Asian Journal article. In the controversial 2007 L.A. Weekly article “The Fil-Am Invasion”, which portrays Fil Ams as somehow “taking over” the Hollywood hip hop club scene, paints a picture of Fil Am corporeal excessiveness, an image not too far from Clemente’s “singing and dancing” depiction of Fil Ams. In the piece, Sam Slovick writes,

“These Fil-Am kids are serious about having a good time, and that’s about it. It’s cultural. It came from the islands. The celebratory communal music and dance go way back to tribal roots. The DJ is spinning hip-hop, of course.”

As I tackled in a prior entry, Slovick’s fixation with Fil Am “tribal” bodies is connected to white historical fascination with Filipino primitive “otherness.” The Philippine Reservation at the 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair stands as the paradigmatic example of white “gazing” upon “tribal” Filipino bodies. The Philippine Reservation was about biological racial taxonomy: the marking of Filipinos as “less than” whites and certain Asians (see Robert Rydell's All the World's a Fair: Visions of Empire at American International Expositions, 1876-1916). Slovick’s depiction of Fil Am kids’ “tribal” “dancing around” astonishingly resonates with the historical consumption of Filipino bodies. The only difference is that instead of communing with tribal drums, we are now communing with hip hop.

Slovick and Clemente have effectively replaced a Filipino primitivism with a black primitivism, although the two primitivisms have traveled with each other since the turn of the 19th century‘s practice of racial taxonomy (see Cedric Robinson's Forgeries of Memory and Meaning). For Slovick and Clemente, hip hop has become code for a blackened racial position. It’s something that young Fil Ams “naturally” gravitate towards, distracting them from the important things in life, like school (over)achieving.

A friend to FilAm Funk, sociology scholar Valerie Francisco spells out the “blackening” of Filipinos that Clemente deploys. Her citation of Eduardo Bonilla-Silva’s acknowledgment of this “blackening” is useful here:

“Eduardo Bonilla-Silva wrote a book called Racism Without Racists where he effectively argues that Filipinos belong to the “collective black” in the US racial order and, I would argue, the US social imagination…

We can’t ignore that Filipinos as well as other Asian Americans who are, in a sense, “blackened” (either by US foreign intervention in their countries–Vietnam, Burma, Laos, hella other Southeast Asian countries) aren’t also doing as well as the poster-child (East) Asian groups…”

The True, the Good, and the Beautiful

Fil Ams’ supposed “deviance” from Asian American academic overachievement illuminates how racial categories position Filipinos in curious ways within the landscape of U.S. racial membership.

The task, therefore, may not be about pinning down Fil Am racial membership, either to lament their shortcomings to a model minority Asian Americanism or to demonize their “primitive” black cultural participation. Perhaps it would behoove us to see what is happening “at the bottom”, to understand the intelligence and genius of what is already there. The alternative classroom of hip hop has at many times been the pathway to Fil Am “success”, even if that “success” may not look like a PhD or MD degree.

During martial law, Imelda Marcos funneled billions of pesos to beautification projects to superficially “cover-up” the slums and construct prestigious cultural centers to impress foreign visitors in the Philippines. Imelda’s beautification initiatives ultimately failed, making no long term impact on Philippine society. To this day, she retorts that she only wants to promote the true, the good, and the beautiful. But in reality, Imelda has not been able to face the truth.

Contrasting Imelda’s maxim, hip hop often tells the startling, the bad, and the ugly. In other words, it tells the real truth—raw and naked.

The startling, the bad, and the ugly can be a transformative thing, alarming us to the work that needs to be done. It does not conceal or pretend. It awakens and demands. Hip hop’s alternative knowledge has been a staple of Fil Am life for decades now. How much value is a college degree if one graduates without “knowledge of self”? How many of us are still singing "Jingle Bells"? Geo‘s “Commencement Day” suggests the ongoing education of “knowledge of self”, one that continues even after you toss your graduation cap into the air:

“Now you stand at the summit

Future facing the wind.

Now it’s time to let your true education begin.”

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JabbaWockeeZ get wicked Sin City!

The JabbaWockeeZ try their luck in Las Vegas at the MGM Grand! But this opportunity ain't just about fortune, cuz these guys are pure talent. Advertised right in between David Copperfield and Tom Jones, are these the most popular Filipino Americans in the States right now? Between the supernatural and the karaoke hitmaker, these guys are like the magical Filipinos!
The 2000s are a great era for Filipino Americans and hip hop! The crucibles of Filipino American culture are demanding and commanding national attention. Seattle and the progressive Filipino community bred the talent of legendary poetry troupe Isangmahal (who are back apparently) alongside one of the most successful independent hip hop groups the Blue Scholars. Seattle is interesting, people!

Performers who cut their teeth in the San Francisco/San Diego Pinoy/ay hip hop spaces have clearly demonstrated their skills to the TV world on America's Best Dance Crew, and now the tourist world in Las Vegas gets to experience the JabbaWockeeZ. Not that the measure of skill and success should be defined by "outsiders", but a little attention never hurt nobody. Especially when MGM JabbaWockeeZ tickets go for over $70.00 each, man, a little money in yo pockets never hurt nobody either! Make that dough, bro. And look good doing it...

Besides, if purists want to keep the culture "inside" (hey, I ain't mad at ya), it looks like we're doing just fine doing that too!

From the garage ground to the world stage! Isulong!

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Sunday Cipher: Takin it back and Free Wheelin'

Remember the early 2000s? Well, if not, let's take you back, way back. This early Blue Scholars music video came out in 2004, and the song was probably made in 2002 or 2003. Meaning, our freshmen in college today were in elementary school back then.

The Blue Scholars are hotter than ever and it is great to see they still carry the same passion from circa 7 years ago. I personally love the first EP. And if you haven't heard "Bluechini," then you haven't heard their pre-EP jams. Late 90s, early 2000s were great years for Filipino Americans doing hip hop music.


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A special shout out goes to John Delloro and Tam Tran. Too many we've lost in such a short period of time. We miss you and love you. Your labor, love, and passion motivate us daily. You feed the fire of social justice and peace.

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6 Year Rap Comparison!

To bring home the last post's theme about the changing motifs in hip hop, and to make you (well some of you, and me) feel older, here is a 6 year span (1987-1993 and 2004-2010) comparison of notable albums:

Eric B. and Rakim
Paid in Full (1987)
This is the duo's first studio album, inaugurating the Golden Age of hip hop (when going gold was a respected standard of success) with that b-boy, sample-based sound. James Brown's breaks are reinvigorated in this audioscape. Notice the DJ is still central here.

A Tribe Called Quest
Midnight Marauders (1993)
This album is in line with the Afro-Humanist vibe of the early 90s, and came out at a time when hip hop's Westcoast beef would start to heat up! The sounds are a bit more experimental than in the 80s. And where did the DJ go??

Kanye West

College Dropout (2004)

Included the hit singles "Jesus Walks," "Get 'Em High," and "Slow Jamz." Kanye West begins building his rap empire with that mid-2000 sound. What can stop him now?

It's a bit premature to know a notable 2010 album, but Jay-Z and Alicia Key's single"Empire State of Mind" has been making a killing and paints a good sense of rap on the radio today. Not too drastic a change from 2004! Right?

The 2000s saw the coming and going of hyphy, the rise of Southern crunk, the return of Chicago (with Kanye and Lupe Fiasco, for example), ring-tone rappers, auto-tune, and the dominance of strip club-themed music.

Do you feel that the span between 2004-2010 saw much of a difference in the transformation of hip hop music as between 1987-1993?

To those who have been following hip hop made by Fil Ams, Blue Scholars' first album came out in 2004! Bambu's album Self-Untitled came out in 2003! How you like that??

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Colonial Funk! Pacquiao vs. Cotto: violent island intimacies

Pacquiao and Cotto painting on a jeepney, for HBO 24 7 show

"On the tube, I'm just watching Pacquiao box it up. How would I know HBO would get a shot of us? Sittin so close that we almost got snot on us."
-Jay Z, "Thank You"

"You know I get em with the rap's Manny Pac hooks!"
-Son of Ran, "For the Wax"

"My people pump your fists like you're Manny Pacquiao. Man-child with the wild-style, right to be hostile."
-Blue Scholars, "Solstice: Reintroduction"



The colonies is hostile this Saturday! Manny Pacquiao (representing the Philippines) and Miguel Cotto (Puerto Rico) will bout it out for WBO Welterweight supremacy. Moving up from 140 to 147 pounds, Pacquiao will once again be tested as he gains bulk, which is always a liability in terms of speed and power.

This blog has dedicated a lot of material to posing questions about Filipinos' relationships to other people of color. So, it is not surprising that the Pacquiao-Cotto fight is overheating the Hip Hop Lives thinking-engine.

As former/current colonies of Spain and the United States acquired by Western powers at the same time, the Philippines and Puerto Rico occupy historical discourses in almost identical colonial, cultural, and military relevance.

It's important to note that both colonies have a strong love affair with boxing. And--as hip hop heads know--Filipinos and Puerto Ricans in the U.S. have had a strong love affair with hip hop culture (Pinoys on the West Coast, PRs on the East). Finally, as demonstrated by Cotto's father's 25 years in the U.S. Army and by Filipinos' migration through military service, both colonies have for over a century been firm ground for military boots.

But of course a few things disrupt the otherwise seemingly perfect accord:

-The Philippines is in the Pacific, and Puerto Rico is in the Caribbean, bringing in some geographical dissonance.

-Although both are mixed racially, the Philippines has a large "Asian" population especially pronounced with a noticeable Chinese middle class, and Puerto Rico is home to a dominant African diaspora. After all, Afrika Bambaataa considers Puerto Ricans as "black."

-Puerto Ricans speak a Spanish vernacular and were not forced American English by the U.S. colonial administration. Whereas Filipinos were not taught Spanish because of Spanish prejudice against indio inferiority, but were/are instructed and speak a variety of American English. However, in the HBO 24 7 episodes, both Pacquiao and Cotto speak American English (but Pac-Man gets the subtitles! Doh!)

Political cartoon from the early 1900s. Uncle Sam disciplining the bad Filipino, Hawaiian, Puerto Rican, and Cuban children

A few questions can be asked about the upcoming fight:

1. What does it mean to gaze upon two Filipino and Puerto Rican bodies in violent confrontation--especially with millions of dollars at stake?

2. How will the audience categorize Pacquiao and Cotto? Will Pacquiao be "Asian"? Will Cotto be "Hispanic"? Black? And what does that mean for Filipino and Puerto Rican audience members (actually, all audience members) as they assess the other's body type?

3. In the HBO 24 7 biographical specials, the music and scenery (complete with food!) give vivid depictions of where these men are from. What kind of narratives can be written about the islands Pacquiao and Cotto represent? Will the shared histories of Spanish and U.S. colonization of both colonies be articulated, or are both effectively painted as completely incongruent? (I mean, check "The Battle of East and West" narrative written on the Pacquiao-Hatton fight. I'm wondering the marketing strategy debates occurring with this current one. Rice and fish vs. rice and beans?)

4. What does it mean to have non-Americans, especially Pacquiao, figuring as a boxing icon for the U.S. boxing imagination? Will the Floyd Mayweather, who is from Michigan, rescue the all-American boxing iconography? (Remember, Oscar De La Hoya, from East LA, is called "Golden Boy" for a reason)

Like hip hop, this boxing thang unearths some interesting queries about ourselves as Filipinos and people of color! So before yall crack open the San Miguel and let loose, some crazy juice for your thinking-engine as we prepare for the big fight on Saturday!


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Summer Heat: Massive Monkees interview, more Seattle goodies

Los Angeles is on fire, but it also seems like Seattle is ablaze. With a record setting sizzling summer in the 206, it's also fitting that Seattle Fil Am hip hop talent add to the scorcher. Remember to hydrate!

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Peep an excerpt of my BakitWhy.com interview with the Seattle-based Massive Monkees. We were behind the scenes of America's Best Dance Crew, episode 3 (yeah, the martial arts one). Were/are these Seattle Pinoy b-boys the Monkees mention also inspirational to your style?

MV: Any particular Filipino b-boys, b-girls influential to you all and your development?

Marcus Garrison: B-boy Free from Seattle. He's one of the biggest inspirations for Massive Monkees and all of Seattle and all over the world.

Jerome Aparis: And B-boy Remind from Style Elements Crew.

Brysen Angeles: Actually in Seattle, the place where we did a lot of rehearsal for the audition of the show was the Filipino Community Center. So we got a lot of support from the Filipino community in Seattle. It's a good thing.
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In another Seattle shoutout, remember to download the Blue Scholars' new EP entitled "OOF!" This Hawaiian-inspired collection is sure to satisfy your craving for innovative, experimental sounds and relaxing island flavors. Here is a Seattle Times review of each track of the EP. The Scholars keep it burnin like a haole on a beach!




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And if you still feen for that 206 spice, be sure to download DJ Daps1's newest mixtape, "206 Summer Heat". All the artists featured in the mix represent Seattle, many delivering that real OG West Coast vibe. Who knew Seattle had such a thriving, raw hip hop scene? Well, now ya know.

Ain't nuthin better than summer in the Northwest!

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"The B-Boy Stance": Massive Monkee article from 2007

Below is a 2007 article on the Massive Monkees published in Oneso Magazine, which is apparently defunct (I can't find it anymore! Can you? Here is their Myspace site). Good thing I saved the article. It's useless on my computer if its not out there for the world to read.

The article goes into depth on the origins of the Massive Monkees (mentions the role of Jefferson Community Center, a space for young Filipino American youth to build...listen to Blue Scholars' "Southside Revival"), performing for the Supersonics (R.I.P. lol!!), their service in the local Seattle community, and their international travels. Mind you, Massive Monkees are bigger than the 6 brothas on the MTV show. But you get the perspective of Jeromeskee, Brysen, and Juse Boogie (Marcus Garrison) who are on the show.

Enjoy! Let's see if you can catch Brysen's reference to the J'ville bootleg tape swapping we did back in the late 90s I mentioned in my last blog post. Can't believe he remembered that!

N O V E M B E R 5 , 2 0 0 7

The B-Boy Stance: An In-Depth Look Into the Massive Monkees

By H.D. Author

08:15:31 PM PST

When someone mentions Seattle, Hip-hop isn’t always the first thing that comes to mind, if it comes to mind at all. Though we have multiple businesses based in the Puget Sound area that have grown to be recognized all over the world, since the days of Sir Mix A Lot this city’s been rather quiet when it comes to artists making noise outside of the local scene in terms of Hip-hop. Within the past few years, however, several acts have crossed that barrier by linking up with others in the same struggle to spread the word in a day and age where Hip-hop is supposedly dead. It may be to the masses, but not to the Massive. Monkees that is.

Before a routine practice session at the Jefferson Community Center in Beacon Hill, where b-boys and b-girls have been going to learn, improve, and master their crafts for nearly 20 years, we got the chance to chill with a few of the crew. With b-boys Jeromeskee and Iron Mike Brysen, we wanted to know what the world-renowned Massive Monkees have been through, are going through, and will go through both as a crew and as a family.

Just to start with some basics, how long has Massive Monkees been together?

Jeromeskee: As a crew we’ve been established in 1999. It was two crews forming together, both crews really were nobody. We were all just kids who had the same passion. At that time, the whole Seattle scene, the b-boy Seattle scene was pretty much dead. Two crews, one of the crews was called the Untouchable Style Monkees, which was Brysen and myself, and another crew was called Massive, which was Juse Boogy and Domes. They were practicing downstairs at the Jefferson Community Center at the same time…

Did you guys get along right off the bat? Tell us a little more about how the two formed Massive Monkees.

Jeromeskee: Before we didn’t really know each other as well, pretty much didn’t like each other. [Laughs] We were kids growing up, we were kids trying to find identities too, trying to be hardcore and trying to be B-boys, stuff like that. [Laughs] When everybody disappeared we were like, ‘Yo ok…’ The big thing that played was chemistry. We all had the same vision. We wanted to master ourselves, you know, stay as a unit and compete with each other. But it was on a respect tip, it wasn’t no hate….

Brysen: I think actually we started hanging out before we started practicing together. We would go out together and party, do whatever, like 18-19 year olds do. Then we took one trip down to B-boy Summit ‘99…we took a bus trip down there together. We weren’t Massive Monkees yet, but we took the bus trip down and really from there it was on. We were down there representing together, representing Seattle, and at that time like Jerome said the scene had died. There were no more B-boys around in the area. There were, but they were very scarce…we were the remaining heads still doing it in Seattle, and then it was on.

Prior to the two crews meeting, how long have you guys been b-boying? Who did you look up to locally, and how was the Seattle b-boy scene back when you two started?

Jeromeskee: I’ve been dancing since ’96. I looked up to the crew, actually, before they were called USM they were called ABC, and that was [Brysen’s] crew, and this other crew which was called Boss Crew… incredible. They probably influenced not just the Seattle scene but the whole west coast scene, possibly the east coast scene.

Brysen: I started breaking in ’94, and Boss had been doing it 2 years before that. That’s kind of who put us on. I remember being in Florida in ’99 and telling heads I was from Seattle and they were like, ‘Yo you’re from Seattle? You ever heard of Boss Crew? We fucking used to watch their tapes.’ And this was in Florida, this is the complete opposite end of the US, and these kids were talking about how they’d seen Boss. Mind you, this was in ’97 when they were seeing like the “Yellow Shirt Break Wars” and stuff like that, and that was stuff going on here in Seattle. At that time, you know, there was no digital video, no internet video, no YouTube, there was nothing. It was like VHS being recorded by one homie, and the next homie getting it and him recording the next one, so I’m sure the copy that they got of some the battles locally were worn out VHS video tapes…. And that was like our original crew, both me and [Jeromeskee], we were like the younger cats who were repping Boss but we’re still part of that legacy, and proud to be.

Did you have any idea from the beginning that you really wanted to do this on a greater level or did it just kind of happen naturally?

Jeromeskee: I really sucked. I tried to get into this crew Oasis. That was in middle school. Yeah I’ll put em on blast too. [Laughs] They said, ‘all you have to do is battle.’ I already knew them from friends…so I went there and tried to battle in. Did my 3-4 rounds of Russian kicks, thought I was hardcore, and thought I was fresh. And then they said, ‘Oh I’m sorry, the crew is locked.’ AKA yo you suck. I was pretty mad cuz I practiced hard. For a good strong week. [Laughs] My boy at that time was saying why don’t you just go for ABC. So I go here to Jefferson Community Center, and these guys were already established pretty much. They’ve been battling for awhile. I practiced for 3-4 months, just trying to practice hard. I hooked up with the right people like Brysen, pretty much worked out for me. Hooked up with this guy named Fever One, DVS Crew, cats that really helped influence Boss Crew. They were the pioneer B-boys… dancing since the 80’s.

Brysen: [DVS] studied the old school cats who were doing it in New York, and these guys grew up in the 80’s so they were studying probably the early 80’s and late 70’s of what was going on…. Everything that they studied and all the homework that they did they were more than willing to share with Boss, which was to me, why Boss became so good. They were put on from the beginning and taught the real deal from jump, and that all lead down to what we’re doing as Massive.

Jeromeskee: We had a blessing off the direct contact from what B-boying should be, and what it really is about.

How did Massive Monkees go beyond that? What did you guys have to do get recognition and respect both in and outside of Seattle?

Brysen: We just did traveling, tried to get out there. We did Rock Steady Anniversary in ’99. We did B-Boy Pro Am in ’99. And this was just like small groups of us traveling around. A big turning point was doing Freestyle Session 6 in California. It was first time that us as a whole crew went down and made some noise, and we fucking came in 2nd place. We didn’t have any clue that were gonna do that good when we got down there, but we went down there, we did what we did, and fuck from there it was history. After that everybody wanted to know what’s going on with Massive Monkees…. We didn’t plan a lot of it, a lot of it we can honestly say it was a blessing. Things came at the right time, things happened at the right time, we chose to enter the right battles, and we got lucky. I think we got real lucky.

Jeromeskee: Before we made noise we had to make our personal noise in our own city to a different city. From then on, it was like ok we can do competitions. What else can we do? Alright we’ll teach. What else can we do? We can do theater. What else can we do? We can do Sonics, you know? It’s just an on-going process. Basically it’s a lot of peoples’ dreams all in one pot, and we worked it out as a crew….

When did you first hook up with the Sonics and how’d the Boom Squad form?

Jeromeskee: 2004. We won the World B-boy Championships [April 2004], and that was in London… Then this lady from California came to the Sonics and wanted to make a b-boy crew. Basically, someone forwarded her our contact, hooked us up, [and we] just tried out. We were already established as Massive Monkees, and so we were doing regular routines, our show routines and so forth. They liked us. We made the All-Star Game that year too.

Brysen: They hired us for thirteen games, and we did the thirteen games. The crowd loved it, and they just kept us on, put us on payroll with the Sonics.

Jeromeskee: If you see Boom Squad at the Supersonics, it’s known as the Massive Monkees crew. The Sonics didn’t put us together as individuals, we were already a crew.

Outside of the b-boy scene itself, what do you think people think of the art on a mainstream level?

Brysen: What you see now, like “You Got Served” or “Kicking It Old School,” the way that b-boying’s being represented to the mainstream…

Jeromeskee: It’s a joke.

Brysen: It makes b-boying out to be a joke. They’re definitely trying to make it like another fad, like this is just another fad that’s gonna go out the door. Truth be told this is shit that has been building, and it gave me and Jeromeskee and identity, you know what I’m saying? There’s other kids out there that could be doing a lot of other shit, you know, we all know that. We could all be doing something else…

If not for b-boying, what do you think you’d be doing right now?

Jeromeskee: Man, honestly, b-boying’s like walking. I can’t live without it. I can’t even think without it. I’m so in tuned with b-boying and with my crew; it’s kind of crazy to even think that. I see my crew on a daily basis. I b-boy every single day.

Brysen: If I wasn’t breaking, I don’t know. I may have finished college. I may have gotten a real good job. I may be sitting in front of a desk, fucking who knows what I could be doing, but I know that I’m happy with where I’m at right now. B-boying has done a lot for myself and it’s gotten me to a place where I can say that a lot of other people haven’t experienced a lot of things, at the age of 26, that I’ve been able to experience through this thing.... My parents have told me numerous times, “enjoy what you’re doing right now. You’re experiencing greater things. I’ve never seen all these countries that you’ve seen. I’ve never got to know different cultures around the world.” I don’t know where I would be, but I’m happy where I’m at.

Jeromeskee: I wouldn’t change anything, anything at all.

What’s been one of your most memorable experiences traveling the world?

Jeromeskee: [We’re] constantly having new experiences. This one experience we had, we got flown out to Japan. It was so like “Blood Sport,” where they took best of the best of each crew in Japan… we were the special guest crew.… We had a lot of great experiences in Japan, different countries and so forth, but this experience was like from the beginning to the end, [there] was a constant greatness to it. I mean it was to the point where we’re at the temple… we looked at each other, and we’re looking at how beautiful Japan was and how they treated us with such, royalty, actually… such respect. We’re like “dang…” I looked to the right, I looked to the left… we’re about to cry, you know? But we’re b-boys, we can’t do that. We’re hardcore, you know what I’m saying? [Laughs] And they gave us ceremonies, like the opening ceremony they had the prime minister there. It was a beautiful town.

Brysen: From the minute that we came off the plane they took care of us. Like “what do you guys wanna do? Where you gonna go? Here’s your luggage.” Everything was planned out on a schedule. “You’re gonna eat, you’re gonna go do this….” It was like from beginning to end they made sure we were gonna have a really good time.

Jeromeskee: It was our b-boy heaven. [Laughs]

Brysen: Yeah, and I got to share with like six of you guys. [Laughs]

Jeromeskee: At that moment, at that time, I said it to myself, “If I were to retire like this right now, I’d be happy.” There’s so much more to do, but I mean it was a super unique experience, incredible every single second.

Brysen: That was Koji, Japan, for Battle Runners 2006. Koji, Japan.

On the flip side of that, have you guys had any bad experiences travelling?

[Both laugh]

Jeromeskee: Where you wanna start?

Brysen: I actually booked this trip… we went to Leon, France. This promoter contacted us from France and said they wanna to bring us out for a battle. From the jump, the communication was wack. First thing he did was he bought the tickets flying out of Washington D.C. [Jeromeskee laughs] We were stuck with our flights, but we got that situated. We got on the plane, we flew in, and for some reason the flights didn’t connect right. We ended up spending four hours in Paris, waiting at the airport…then we flew to Leon, France. We finally get there, and we didn’t get to check into our hotel or anything. They brought us with our luggage, they were late picking us up too, and then a two hour drive after waiting at the airport for four hours…. Straight off of traveling for over twenty-something hours… they gave us an hour to chill and tell us to go out and stage and battle.

Jeromeskee: With our luggage.

Brysen: No shower, no food, no nothing. We get out there and we make it all the way to the finals, and we battled this crew called Pokémon. It’s their hometown, and I think the dude who promoted it was trying to throw an event to boost up their name. So they basically flew us out there, threw us in the tank, put us in front of this home crowd… close to a thousand… screaming fans, screaming for them and booing for us. We can show you the tape. We smacked them. We killed em. And all the judges go, “Pokémon wins.”

Jeromeskee: When we went there, just when they had said “USA” they booed us. They didn’t know about us. All they knew was about President Bush…and they heard “USA” and they booed us. And so we had to get their respect. In the beginning it was like “ok, these guys are alright.” Second round…they started to feel us more. When it came to the finals… after they announced the winner… [Pokémon] got booed.

Brysen: It was like some “Rocky” shit. Remember how Rocky had fought? All of a sudden, the crowd’s emotions turn to our favors like, “these guys are good guys….” [Both laugh] You can change a lot peoples’ minds through breaking….

Bringing it back locally, to here in Seattle, what are you guys up to now? What do you guys have planned?

Jeromeskee: We’re working on a theater piece. We do a lot of theater in the college market nationally, [but we’ve] never done a theater production in Seattle. It’s weird; it’s ironic. That’s one of our goals, basically just try and do theater and open it in Seattle….

Brysen: We’ve been doing a lot of shows locally, for like the opening of the sculpture park, or the Seattle Art Museum, and the Asian Art Museum… we did one show at the Asian Art Museum and ever since then the same people organizing a lot of the openings of the venues here got us doing that. It might have something to do with them giving us the Mayor’s Arts Award this year.

Jeromeskee: The mayor also gave us an official holiday, called the Massive Monkees Day. That’s April 26th, when we brought home a gold championship title [from the World B-boy Championships in 2004].

Brysen: And we’re still setting goals for ourselves, still trying to accomplish more. Take it to the next step, whether it be winning the next competition or trying to open a school and trying to teach out of a school…and to spread the word of Hip-hop, positive Hip-hop, and what b-boying can bring to culture, which is why it’s dope you guys are doing this magazine. We’re kind of on the same mission now. It’s perfect timing. Let’s just bring all this urban culture to life.

We know Massive Monkees is involved with the community outreach. Tell us more about that and the groups you work with.

Jeromeskee: I work at pre-schools, among another organization called Arts Corps… teaching art, teaching kids…. We have an anti-bully program we’re doing in schools too.

[Juse Boogy Enters]

Brysen: He does a lot of work with the city of Seattle.

Jeromeskee: We all do a lot of work with Seattle.

Juse Boogy: I do work with the city of Bellevue and run afterschool programs… and do classes through the city of Bellevue. We’re also starting a campaign; we’ve been in touch with some of the local districts. We did three grade level school shows with the Tukwila School District last year. We’ve done a couple with the Seattle School District as well. We’re on the move trying to do more outreach work, but at this point we’re just running afterschool programs. He does afterschool classes in Seattle, and I do them in Bellevue.

We know you met here, you practice here, and you help out a lot here at the Jefferson Community Center. What role does it play for the crew, and for b-boying?

Jeromeskee: A lot of us do work at the Jefferson Community Center. For Christmas we do a canned food drive. We do a lot of events specifically to help out certain organizations. We do a non-direct outreach at Jefferson Community Center, where certain kids will come up and we help them out.

Juse Boogy: If this was gone it’d be a lot harder… this is like the Mecca of b-boying… I’ve been coming here like fourteen years, but people have been coming here to b-boy for almost twenty.

What do you think of the Hip-hop scene specifically in Seattle?

Brysen: We need to grow as a scene rather than individuals. It’s a give and take thing. Let’s support each other…. People need to know about all the dope shit that’s going on here.

Juse Boogy: People in general [here] respect art. People in Seattle are always interested.

Jeromeskee: It’s beautiful. People are more artistic on the level of being open-minded. That has to do with people in Seattle… people are more receptive… you know what I’m saying? The Seattle scene and the environment itself has helped that out.

Thanks again for taking the time out do this interview. Any last words about this whole experience thus far in your lives?

Juse Boogy: Through dance you can see the culture, how [people] were raised, and how the community’s doing.

Jeromeskee: B-boying’s more than just tricks, more than shows and competition. It’s a whole lifestyle.

Brysen: We wanna create opportunities for others, other b-boys. And we’re still grinding. I can’t change who I am.

To learn more about the Massive Monkees, check them out at www.myspace.com/massivemonkees, every Seattle Supersonics home game at the Key Arena as the Boom Squad, a show near you, and the DVD documentary starring the crew coming soon.