FRIDAY
Back to work. Two performances this evening. I had to go back to Harlem to take pictures of the historic places that I didn’t have a camera for before. As a place, I like Harlem. There is much speculation at the moment about the future of it. The white people that moved to the suburbs when blacks came to the cities are now moving back in. pushing the prices up forcing the blacks to leave. Some places are being bought for triple its value. So the future of Harlem is in the balance.
We finished what we needed to do rather early. We decided to wait at a bookstore. It was like a mini borders. But still a good size, it was called Hue Man books. I had no idea it was a black owned book store, apparently they claim its the biggest black book store in the world. I don’t know about that but I couldn’t deny it was nice. We got a cup of coffee and waited for time to pass to go to the next performance. I picked up a XXL as we waited. They had an interview with Idris Elba, a British actor making it big in the U.S. Personally, I believe he has the potential to become the next Denzel, such is his talent. They asked him a question about British rap, the question was “No offence, but British rap is kind of wack.” He defended it well, but that got me thinking. Will explain later.
At the back the chairs had been arranged for some form of event. Turns out author Nathan McColl was here to promote his new book THEM. I know about the brother via my friend Toks. So had to text him too. His book talks about the gentrification occurring in Harlem. There was a panel discussion with 5 other men and women. They talked about the impact of white people moving into Harlem. And the difficulties both cultures have been having with each other. One of the panelists said that many of these meeting where decisions are being voted on, black people are not there, its done under the radar on purpose, so white people can decide for themselves what happens in an area and benefit from the price rice.
I had to leave early to get to my first performance of the night on time, the Harlem Tea Room. Brother Earl had been the only brother who truly represented me as a brother, so was indebted to him. Though unfortunately he admitted all the spots hadn’t been the best attended. Tonight it was raining, plus the NY knicks were playing. Nevertheless, I did come across some really good poets. I said I am going to do away with the straight performance of my pieces and be more educational in my delivery. I was in a place where people have no idea that black people are in Britain, neither what our experience has been, our history or why we reference African American history so much. I explained all of that, which again just makes people accept you more. It was definitely my best performance yet. I love getting the respect of my peers. You see it in their reaction when you perform. Their contorted faces at a sharp lyrical and information points that makes them look as if they’ve been prodded with a sharp knife. The pausing and asking me to rewind that line, looking at each other to see if someone else had heard what they had. I felt the love.
Though as all the other spots I wished they had shown their support through CD sales. Like I said my converted pounds were drying up, and hand claps for some financial imbursement would definitely have been good right about now. But to be fair, the event didn’t give the audience a chance. There was no break. I had hoped it went from 7-9 so I could fly to the nu yoricans and get there for 10pm. Brother Earl said that the slam doesn’t start till 11pm so I still got time. However, this show went on till 10pm making it all very tight. Because I had to fly, I couldn’t really capitalize on their appreciation with a desire to have me in their collection. My sales pitch was tight. Again only one brother really supported. He was from the Caribbean. I did Generation Change, which they REALLY loved, even got a standing ovation from one brother. But still didn’t see his 10 dollars. Wow I talk about this a lot in my new CD the love without the support. When I left, I turned into the invisible man again, save for a couple of big ups and of course the brother from the Caribbean.
Anyway the main performance was at the world famous Nu Yoricans poetry café. Time was against us. We got on the wack trains, finally getting to 2nd avenue and bumped into Cisco. He was actually going home cause he didn’t have the dough, so I said I’d sponsor him. We hustled a cab, got to the venue and they were already starting the slam. I got myself into the zone, did my prayer and was ready. It looked like I was right on time. They were just about to call the names out as I got there. So one by one they were called, all contestants, minus the Tuggstar. WHAT? Mahogany said I had to be here by 9.45pm so gave my spot up when I didn’t come. surprised? Yeah. I was always coming but getting a hook up in NY is hard itself but a bigger and bitter pill to swallow when it gets taken away. But she did say she’d let me go up twice to show case my work, which could work out better. But part of me would’ve like to test myself against a talented assemble of NY poets. One of the poets did a really good poem about Obama, and White America’s condescending fascination of him.
In fact, one thing I found not to be true was the purported lack of support from African Americans. When I tell them about what has been said about the African, African-American divide, they’ve all said it’s not true and have supported him. These are with rooted African Americans, not first generation like myself.
My boy Jive came through during the slam, I expressed that I was a little pissed that I heard nothing from him. But he apologized, said he was away, his love always feels genuine and said on the next run he’ll get at me and hook me up.
When I went up I did Desperately Seeking Malcolm. I slowed down the poetry and before starting I referenced that shit in the XXL that asked Idris about British hip hop being wack. It suddenly dawned upon me that this was essentially their general perception of black practitioners in the vocal arts. That they either are ignorant of what we do, or those that do know have no respect of their fellow black comrade. Maybe that’s why Lily allen, Amy Winehouse and Joss Stone are given credence over black talent in the U.S market. I realized that before I even get through to an audience, I was battling through this prejudice perception. I pretty much said as much before I spat the poem, It didn’t look like anyone disagreed. The poem again went down well, head nods, and big ups from sections of the audience. I was definitely happy with my performance. They couldn’t say I was wack.
The slam was a good one, I wasn’t sure if I would have won such was the talent to be honest. Mahogany told me that my second performance was now going to be first in the open mic, which started after the slam. Initially I was like cool, but after the slam the place literally flocks out. From a packed spot of roughly 200-250 people. (Which shows poetry is still alive here.) To a sparse audience of about 30.
Anyway, before I did my open mic slot I had to push my merchandise. This time I decided to stand by the exit and pitch my shit like I was del boy from only fools and horses. “Get your UK books and CD’s” cats didn’t even look at me. It was literally like I was invisible. Not even big ups. I think two people spoke to me. Though, one brother did buy my full catalogue. We did all 3 for 25 dollars.
Apart from that it was an expensive exercise in futility. I don’t know how the local cats did but next time I’ll just go for the experience rather than the selling. Cause they ain’t interested. Even the people I saw visibly feeling my shit, walked out like I was the invisible man, not even eye contact, or even a networking exchange from poet to poet. I was off to Canada next week. I wonder how things would differ.
