WEDNESDAY
NEW YORK, NEW YORK BIG CITY OF DREAMS, BUT EVERYTHING IN NEW YORK AIN’T ALWAYS WHAT IT SEEMS...
On one hand you got dirt poverty a circle of violence and on the other hand you got an abundance of success. A viable class who are extremely influential. Magic Johnson theatre in downtown Harlem. A giant picture of Puff Daddy in the middle of New York Times Square advertising his clothing line Sean John, Oprah Winfery producing The Color Purple play and showcasing it in the middle of Broadway. Sometimes I look at this progress in awe. Sure Oprah Winfrey’s pro blackness is criticized. But with her money she’s produced a play and black actors, singers, musicians, chorographers who need work, now have work, in a black play nonetheless. ALL black play. People in South Africa who otherwise wouldn’t be in school, are in school. Sure I may criticize her politics, but as Jay Z says, “I can’t knock the hustle.” Though it got me thinking, with the many millionaire black footballers we have in Britain, they are not concerned in doing anything to promote black business, employment, education for their community or themselves. Can’t even boast a corner shop, that’s ridiculous. They have little allegiance to anything black, treat black women like they are lepers. I wonder when their careers are done, if any of them will ever have the sense to develop their business portfolio, be real role models beyond fast running and ball kicking characters. It makes you think whether when they retire, are they just destined to live off their riches, or worst still, see their money slip away from them, begging producers to be pundits on Television.
That night we went over to the famous Nu Yorican poetry café. I was informed that Wednesday was poetry open mic night. Though when I got there it was Comedy. There is no place around the world I know like Nu Yoricans poetry café. A café dedicated to poetry and the vocal arts every day of the week, run by non governmental funding, that unearth new poetry talent, enter teams into national slams and totally sponsors them, their flights, hotel fares, everything. It’s where Saul Williams really established himself, Sonia Sohn, now an actress in the Wire too. So to get a chance to perform here would be historic. The man on the door knew it too. Before coming to NY, there was talk about New York poetry being on a lull. Which was true from what I’ve seen, so Nu Yoricans would really be the last meter to see how much trouble poetry in NY was in.
Lets get back to the man at the door, a typical hard talking New Yorker, no nonsense, and straight to the point. When we got there, he informed us that Wednesday at 7pm was poetry night. I was under the impression Jive Poetic hosts Wednesday poetry. But that was only the first Wednesday of the month. This Wednesday has an open mic later at 10pm but now it was comedy.
Sonia and I were debating whether we would go to the comedy and wait till the open mic or go away and come back, or forget it altogether. The doorman told us that the best poetry night was on Friday, that the turn out today for the comedy was bad because of the change in the weather. That was everyone’s excuse. I asked if I could perform on Friday, you know the whole out of town poet schpill. He said “Friday was a slam and you gotta qualify to get in on the slam. You can’t just come in and perform, you gotta pay your dues you know what I mean? Not just anyone can get on” That assumption pissed me off, but I held it down. Not my Sonia, she said “This guy ain’t just anybody you know. He’s known back in the UK” “No. I’m just saying” he feebly replied. Either way he was not interested in us dilly dallying wondering if we were gong to come in or not. I decided to go outside and phone Brother Earl to see if it was worth staying.
While outside, a brother with lox entered the café while I was outside, he came back out, he obviously thought it was open mic night too. Brother Earl told me this was the best bet for performances on Wednesday night, so it was a good look to wait. The door man came back outside and basically said “are you staying or not, cause your girl is inside, either way you gotta pay.” FUCKING CHILL B we went back in. he again asked, “Are you coming in or not. If you stay either way you gotta pay. If you stay for the comedy and the poetry, you gotta pay twice.” I tried to swing a 2 for 1, but he was having none of it. “Ain’t no deals here.”
It turns out the brother with Lox outside was from Philly. A rapper called WHO I AM. He lived not too far from Floetry, he met Nolan when in London. He knew all the Philly cats personally, The Roots, Bahamadia, Jill Scott, also friends with Mos Def and a number of other people. He used to frequent quest love’s famous basement jams before it became Black Lilly, and even when it did became Black Lilly, his group was the only male group that was allowed to perform on a regular basis. He’s currently working on stuff with Roachford. We exchanged CD’s, and hung out together. We went to an Ethiopian restaurant, his choice. Surprised me cause I knew how adverse Americans can be to other cultures. He ate injera with his hands, and even offered we eat from the same plate. I sensed this guy must have visited Africa. He hadn’t but his wife was Ghanaian. She danced with Urban Bush Women. I had heard Gaylene from the Bernie Grants Arts Centre mention them before. He loved London, loved the pound and loved the love. He said he went there for a week and sold $8,000 equivalent in C.D’s. I was like wow, if I get the same love here as he did in the UK, I should’ve brought some more CD’s along.
We came back to the Nu Yoricans poetry café together to rock the mic. You had to do it with the band. I did all right, Who I Am was real good, loved his style. Again the turn out was modest, due to the weather I was told. Could it be New York really was dead, Nu Yoricans included? So CD sells you ask, how did I do? Well, managed to get rid of two, to the same person. I got what Rich Black called Silent props. Hand claps, good show, but no dough.
I’m finding out, the biggest Achilles heel for UK heads is our love of the foreign, the love of the different. Well I should essentially say American. The biggest Achilles heel to UK when it comes to America, Well, I’ll say New York, is their dis like for anything foreign and different. Hmmm I won’t say dis-like, but apprehension to embrace is a better statement. I decided to email jive and mahogany again, see if I can get put on on Friday. Would love to prove myself in a slam.
At the end of the night I got the obligatory well done’s and I liked your stuff from some people.I met this New York film maker. He approached me saying he liked my stuff and just got back from a Hollywood film festival. He essentially wanted me to help him move his stuff in Europe. Hmmm I think I’m starting to understand the New York hustle, and I was not feeling it. What Nas called The New York state of mind, all these guys are running the same game. Their friendliness is not genuine like I first thought. Its almost as if they want to see who you are and what you can do for them, they find out, then their on to the next chap. For many of these hustlers, love is just an access. And to be honest this brother may be cool. But he’s tarnished at the moment. He let me know he wanted to have his stuff in Europe and tried to pretend he’d be interested in having a British voice as a voice over. Gave him my card, did I take him seriously? Hell no. Couple of more people bigged me up, but no one wanted to take a chance with the CD’s though “Sonia, lets go home.”
Now a good thing about the Night Train is that its 24 hours. However the service is garbage. The London Night bus service is tons better than what I experienced. The trains don’t work, they rarely come. We’d always be waiting for ages for our train to come. I remember in the news in the UK that a management company that works on the NY trains were going to be advising London transport. I have no idea what they can school the London transport on. Their trains are old, uncomfortable, worst than the district line. They don’t have maps on every carriage, letting you know where you are going. Some carriages have one big confusing, map in small writing in the corner of the carriage behind someone’s seat. I don’t know what they can tell London, beyond advising them to go 24 hours. Even though we were running low on funds, we decided to take a cab then a bloody train. I took Sonia home and decided to stay at her cousins the night, I texted Uncle Emelyn let him know where I was.
