Rapper called Slug [from Atmosphere] (2 Viewers)

anyone ever heard of him? he's a rapper from minneapolis\minnesota

Slug_From_Atmosphere.thumb.jpg


he claimed bukowski has had a huge influence on his music, check out his earlier works, expecially "the lucy ford eps".
 
Iv mentioned Before about Sage Francis (who is from the same school of Hip Hop as Slug) namechecking buk in a few of his songs.

Likewise The Rapper Doom did a whole Album with Bukowski as a theme.

Jehst - A UK Artist did a song Called Alcoholic Author which mentions Buk in the first line....
Like Bukowski the alcoholic author
Son of the devil I turn wine into water
My physical forms a metaphor for disorder
Absorb the trauma, my state is before the light
And I am short of time, short to find my keeper
Alive within reach of the reaper


Hip Hop seems to be the Home of Underground writers these days. I think if Bukowski was born again today he would possibly be an MC. If you think about the the fight most Rappers have growing up in inner city's or depressing towns, then being shot into Stardom and having your pick of as many women as you like. Its quite similar in some respects
 
If you think about the the fight most Rappers have growing up in inner city's or depressing towns

Yeah cause no one other than rappers have this problem well except those that play country, rock and roll, classical, bluegrass, polka etc......
No one gives it like a polka groupie just ask Walter to the O
 
No one gives it like a polka groupie...
Now that's the truth, right there. How do you think the Midwest was populated? "Beer Babies" or "Accordion Shame Children" they called them. Thousands of them.

Not me, of course. My people were aristocrats and noble natives. But I played with a drummer who was a descendant of Accordion Shame Children. Impeccable rhythm, but he was fucked up.
 
Yes but Rap is in my opinion more closely linked to Poetry then Polka or Rock.
I also didnt say that they would be left with no other choice however i think the same cross section of young disinfranchised people that he related to then, now listen to Hip Hop for Poetic kicks
 
The people Buk related to then, are now those who listen to Hip Hop for poetic kicks?

Jaysus! What are you talking about dude?

There was also plenty of hip hop, rap around through the 70's, 80's and 90's while Buk was alive. I really don't ever recall him writing about ditching his favorite classical stations in order to get down with the hip hop/poetic youth.

I don't know, I like a lot of different music and many rap acts as well, but I think you've gone off the deep end with this topic/theme/subject or whatever it is.
 
Oh how I enjoy a little bit of Polka music-every other year or so. Thanks for that Jimmy Snerp, the saxophone player has a puffy sleeve shirt and a killer mullet. Rap stars are missing the boat on style.
 
Yes but Rap is in my opinion more closely linked to Poetry then Polka or Rock.
I also didnt say that they would be left with no other choice however i think the same cross section of young disinfranchised people that he related to then, now listen to Hip Hop for Poetic kicks

Rap is not poetry. It is a lyric.
Slam is not poetry, it is rap without a beat.
Great lyricists often make shitty poets.

Comparing Buk (or any literature) to Rap (and I like Rap), is like comparing Lobster to Ice Cream.

Remember, the Bible is poetry too, but I would not compare that to Buk or to Rap.

Bill
 
I think Upsetmonkey kind of has a point, for some (me included) rap / hip hop has been a gateway into poetry.

The likes of Gil Scott-Heron and The Last Poets crossed over 'back in the day', and unlike Bill I think the line between poetry and rap is almost transparent.
 
Ayyyyy, I actually like rap, i've said it, a lot of it, but comparing it to poetry....Nope, I can't fathom that. Yes yes, Tupac was a 20th Century Poet. Ugghhhh, not sure why this thread bothers me so much, but I once had to argue my point about Howard Stern being a genius, so I guess if ya wanna say rap and poetry lay side by side...Go ahead.

Wait, I do know, or at least think I know why this thread bothers me, it's that picture at the top of that guy named slug or whatever...Looking at it urks me, but it's like a train-wreck, so I keep coming back!
 
The likes of Gil Scott-Heron and The Last Poets crossed over 'back in the day'
And today's hip hop artists are not in that league. Are you telling me that the likes of the douchebag pictured in the first post should be considered on the par with someone like Last Poets? I think a lot of people might disagree with that.

unlike Bill I think the line between poetry and rap is almost transparent.
The line between rhyming poetry and hip hop may be almost transparent, but that's where any similarity ends.

I'm not sure why people want to compare the two forms anyway.
 
What im saying is that Rap music is a more lyrical and poetic form of expression that does not need any equipment other then a pen. That young people can write and express what they are feeling in a way, more similar to poetry.

Obviously you are going to have rubbish like Vanilla Ice or Snoop Dog who make stupid music for stupid people. But i know hundreds of kids who put pen to page to express themselves because of hip hop and i know from my own personal experience that i wouldnt have heard about Bukowski,Fante, or many other writers if i havent heard slug or Sage Francis or Braintax mention them. Hip hop turned me into a bad poet and hopefully bye rading and learning from the great poets i can become a better one IMHO.

As for my comments saying that Buk would be a rapper. I take on board what people are saying and yeah im proberbly wrong.

I would say to anyone to listin to Braintax's 1st album or B Dolan album The failure. And give me an honest opinion
 
My honest opinion is that I don't like rap/hip hop at all because of the music (they do need more than just a pen) and the vocals. I think the poetic value that hip hop may contain for you is overrated, especially by the likes of you.

This is no offense, love rap and hip hop, I don't.

I like poetry on paper, not sung, rapped or gurgled.

The former Crass drummer Penny Rimbaud read his poetry to jazz music and it sucked terribly, though I love his words. and i like some jazz.
 
What im saying is that Rap music is a more lyrical and poetic form of expression that does not need any equipment other then a pen. That young people can write and express what they are feeling in a way, more similar to poetry.
Post a decent rap lyric that can stand on its own without music. You will find that most lyrics are shit as poems. The same with rock lyrics. They just don;t work. Just because you say that they are poetry does not mean that they are good poetry. The bible is poetry. Rod McKuen is poetry. Dr Seuss is poetry. Henry Rollins is poetry. Shakespeare is poetry.

I doubt that you will find many people on this board that will listen to two whole albums by Britrappers and tell you why they think that they stink as poetry or as music.

Post a brilliant lyric and let us decide. Maybe you can find the absolute best rap lyric ever written and let us honestly look it as a poem.

Bill
 
Post a decent rap lyric that can stand on its own without music....

Post a brilliant lyric and let us decide. Maybe you can find the absolute best rap lyric ever written and let us honestly look it as a poem.

Now this is the story all about how
My life got flipped, turned upside down
And Id like to take a minute just sit right there
Ill tell you how I became the prince of a town called bel-air

In west philadelfia born and raised
On the playground where I spent most of my days
Chilling out, maxing, relaxing all cool
And all shooting some b-ball outside of the school
When a couple of guys said were up in no good
Started making trouble in my neighbourhood
I got in one little fight and my mom got scared
And said youre moving with your aunte and uncle in bel-air

(only the first three episodes of season one)

I begged and pleaded with her the other day
But she packed my suitcase and sent me on my way
She gave me a kissin and she gave me my ticket
I put my walkman on and said I might aswell kick it

First class, yo this is bad,
Drinking orange juice out of a champagne glass
Is this what the people of bel-air livin like,
Hmm this might be alright!

I whistled for a cab and when it came near the
Licensplate said fresh and had a dice in the mirror
If anything I could say that this cab was rare
But I thought now forget it, yo home to bel-air

I pulled up to a house about seven or eight
And I yelled to the cabby yo, home smell you later
Looked at my kingdom I was finally there
To settle my throne as the prince of bel-air

I always thought this read like a Buk poem *cough*. It's the story of his life isn't it? ;)
 
Post a brilliant lyric and let us decide.
Lucy was 7 and wore a head of blue barettes
City born, into this world with no knowledge and no regrets
Had a piece of yellow chalk with which she'd draw upon the street
The many faces of the various locals that she would meet
There was joshua, age 10
Bully of the block
Who always took her milk money at the morning bus stop
There was Mrs. Crabtree, and her poodle
She always gave a wave and holler on her weekly trip down to the bingo
parlor
And she drew
Men, women, kids, sunsets, clouds
And she drew
Skyscrapers, fruit stands, cities, towns
Always said hello to passers-by
They'd ask her why she passed her time
Attachin lines to concrete
But she would only smile
Now all the other children living in or near her building
Ran around like tyrants, soaking up the open fire hydrants
They would say
"Hey little Lucy, wanna come jump double dutch?"
Lucy would pause, look, grin and say
"I'm busy, thank you much"
Well, well, one year passed
And believe it or not
She covered every last inch of the entire sidewalk,
And she stopped-
"Lucy, after all this, you're just giving in today??"
She said:
"I'm not giving in, I'm finished," and walked away

(Chorus: x2)
1 2 3
That's the speed of the seed
A B C
That's the speed of the need
You can dream a little dream
Or you can live a little dream
I'd rather live it
Cuz dreamers always chase
But never get it

Now Lucy was 37, and introverted somewhat
Basement apartment in the same building she grew up in
She traded in her blue barettes for long locks held up with a clip
Traded in her yellow chalk for charcoal sticks
And she drew
Little bobby who would come to sweep the porch
And she drew
The mailman, delivered everyday at 4
Lucy had very little contact with the folks outside her cubicle day
But she found it suitable, and she liked it that way
She had a man now: Rico, similar, hermit
They would only see each other once or twice a week on purpose
They appreciated space and Rico was an artist too
So they'd connect on saturdays to share the pictures that they drew
(Look!)
Now every month or so, she'd get a knock upon the front door
Just one of the neighbors,
Actin nice, although she was a strange girl, really
Say, "Lucy, wanna join me for some lunch??"
Lucy would smile and say "I'm busy, thank you much"
And they would make a weird face the second the door shut
And run and tell their friends how truly crazy Lucy was
And lucy knew what people thought but didn't care
Cuz while they spread their rumors through the street
She'd paint another masterpiece

(Chorus x2)

Lucy was 87, upon her death bed
At the senior home, where she had previously checked in
Traded in the locks and clips for a head rest
Traded in the charcoal sticks for arthritis, it had to happen
And she drew no more, just sat and watched the dawn
Had a television in the room that she'd never turned on
Lucy pinned up a life worth's of pictures on the wall
And sat and smiled, looked each one over, just to laugh at it all
No Rico, he had passed, 'bout 5 years back
So the visiting hours pulled in a big flock o' nothin
She'd never spoken once throughout the spanning of her life
Until the day she leaned forward, grinned and pulled the nurse aside
And she said:
"Look, I've never had a dream in my life
Because a dream is what you wanna do, but still haven't pursued
I knew what I wanted and did it till it was done
So i've been the dream that I wanted to be since day one!"
Well!
The nurse jumped back,
She'd never heard Lucy even talk,
'Specially words like that
She walked over to the door, and pulled it closed behind
Then Lucy blew a kiss to each one of her pictures
And she died.
 
Oh Bill...for the love of GOD, why? Why unleash a torrent of shit upon the innocent?

Hip Hop seems to be the Home of Underground writers these days.
That's funny, because I could have sworn that hip hop was the most popular form of mainstream music these days.

Anyway, this is all very ridiculous. Everyone knows that Bukowski would have been in a band like Modest Mouse. Or a jazz band. Whichever one he could smoke more pot in. Sure, he would kick it with Slug, and they would roll through some dangerous Minneapolis hoods now and then, throwing water balloons and toilet-papering a rival's crib, but the lure of the sweet, sweet jazz would always call Bukowski back home.
 
The example above is my evidence. Unreadable poetry at its best.

Can anyone even get through this stinker? Maybe it is great with a beat, but without it, it is really, really bad poetry. Like the kinda shit that kids write and think that it is great, only to find it years later, when they have become adults and they are embarrassed by it. Did someone in high school write this rap-poem?

Thanks for making my point.

now, please no more bad hip hop poetry. Any more and mjp will have me circling the drain...

Bill
 
he said post a brilliant lyric. jesus, what a waste of time.

ps - 'barettes' don't rhyme with 'regrets' - yanowhamsane?
 
Sure, he would kick it with Slug, and they would roll through some dangerous Minneapolis hoods now and then, throwing water balloons and toilet-papering a rival's crib, but the lure of the sweet, sweet jazz would always call Bukowski back home.
well at least you're not judging hip hop by its stereotypes and stuff

he said post a brilliant lyric. jesus, what a waste of time.

ps - 'barettes' don't rhyme with 'regrets' - yanowhamsane?
here's the song [This video is unavailable.]
 
The song is O.K. Kinda like Cypress Hill. Not great, but not BAD.

Again, without the music, the lyrics are a REALLY, REALLY bad poem.

Sorry, but that is the case. Really bad.

Bill
 
Oh man, that was fricken' hilarious. I love mjps "Oh BIll..for the love of GOD!" I think both the lyrics and the song are simply rip offs of stuff that has been around and HUGELY popular for years. The lyrics remind me of that stupid P.O.D song called youth of the nation or something like that... I don't know, not a big eminem fan, but from what I remember I think his hugely successful teeny bopper mainstream lyrics are even better than this hip underground dude named slug.
 
lucy was 7 and wore a head of blue barettes
city born, into this world with no knowledge and no regrets
had a piece of yellow chalk with which she'd draw upon the street
the many faces of the various locals that she would meet
there was joshua, age 10
bully of the block
who always took her milk money at the morning bus stop
there was mrs. Crabtree, and her poodle...
Fail.

here's the song [This video is unavailable.]
Fail.
 
Did anyone notice? The You Tube was posted by TairyHesticles . Maybe this forum will get that number up to 3000 and I think his name should be Cairy Hunt.
 
It's okay to like Hip Hop and Bukowski, but I think we've worked out that poetry and lyric comparisons don't really work for the majority of us.
 
...and calling someone a great poet or a great artist does not make them a great poet or a great artist.

Example #1
http://www.greatestlivingpoets.com/

Example #2 (this seems to be the same person in #1. Funny that he bills himself as the greatest living poet, takes out ads in the NYT about being the Greatest Living Poet, yes self published his opus using Xlibris. Mark Kobo is also Mark Chandos and Mark Redina)
http://www.greatestlivingpoets.com/images/coverold.jpg
http://openlibrary.org/b/OL8366101M/Strange_Gods_Bulk_Prophecies
 
I took the mask of a visitor from another planet.

Take it off! Take it off! I'm having nightmares :eek:

I don't know what you mean though, how many poets include mention of a ray gun in their opening lines...

When I burn your eyes
the stammer of my ray gun
will stain a strawberry tear
to the beauty of your cheek


and...

six particle accelerators, twelve beamed funnels,
till tronic rings crown the planet mined


ha ha!

If you still cannot face the parrot-masked
apparition. Restrain your alarm.


ok, now it's just getting silly

spliced by Talon's giant spider robot arcs.

oh wait, now it's getting silly!

Thanks for leading me to the path of the greatest living poet.
 
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