New York City hosted a flurry of events last night, that rained as hard on its guests as the snow from the sky. A concert at SOBs sponsored by Hot 97, Mint and Serf’s Armory Week after party at The Westway, DJ Getlive’s gig at 19 Kenmare St. Parties kept the streets warm. So I embraced walking to every stop regardless of the winter blast. Allow me to take you through most of my night in photos.
I glanced at two ladies scurry past me with their bare bottoms making their way to the stage somewhere after 10:30PM. I thought they were there to accompany the next act, or maybe they were the opening act. The nice women joined Meyhem Lauren on stage, spicing up his stage show with seductive dance moves. For any disciple of rap shows, a sausage fest is always expected. But Meyhem made an attempt at changing the menu, first by increasing the female ratio on stage. If giving the audience a fulfilling experience wasn’t enough (and it was), he served brunch. Soft bagels, three types of cream cheese—scallion, salmon, plain—and muffins offered a smorgasbord of an experience that none of the other artists could top.
Meyhem Lauren performed a bunch of material from his Respect the Fly Shit album and songs from releases I’ve yet to give a listen. Being pretty familiar with a few songs in his set, though I didn’t know them line for line, his reputation exceeds him as a rapper’s rapper. “Intricate thug rap” is how he describes what he does, and it’s the most accurate description of his style. Looking at Meyhem spit bars reminds me of those moments when you’re on the subway sitting across from an intriguing strap hanger. In silence, there’s a lot of thought going on upstairs like a meditation exercise. It’s not so much what exactly Meyhem thinks about on a day to day basis that piques my curiosity. At least we know he has good taste in bagels and women—the simple pleasures life has to offer. I get it. But if you were lucky to catch a sound wave from his earphones, maybe you’d hear husky beats blaring at an obnoxious decibel that the other people on the train are giving him the stink eye. He’s not phased. He’s got your attention from the music, and more importantly, so does the vintage Polo Ralph Lauren he wears from head to toe. How he is retaining all the information in between his ears is inspiring for anyone living in New York’s world of distractions. He maintained that laser focus for his set last night.
This is Troy Ave. The Brooklyn hustler turned rapper draped in a white fur, sunglasses, skully, adidas Trefoil crewneck, and shiny wristwatch. All those accessories to his success mean nothing though, because the man brought out his momma on stage with him, also in a fur. She was all smiles, as was Troy because Momma Ave was the most special of all the guests he’d bring out for the night. I’m pretty sure her smile was out of happiness and not a grimace wincing at Troy cussing, and his references to cocaine. Nothing beats a mom’s love, right? Troy tore into tracks from his mixtapes, and a few loose
remixes keymixes like his flip of Chief Keef’s “Love Sosa.” That got the crowd bubbling, as Prodigy would be his next guest. Illuminati P performed all three verses of “Quiet Storm,” then did “Shook Ones.” I left before P got to the chorus though. I heard P.A.P.I. N.O.R.E. was in the VIP, who I really wanted to see perform too, but I had plans to hit up Westway, and a few more stops.
Honorable mention to Leikeli47. I caught the tail end of her set after I came back from watching the Knicks at Houston Hall. She brought out Curt@!n$ to perform “Heard Em Say.” Her melodic raps made SOB’s bounce, and Curt@!n$ brought a show stealing hot 16 proving he’s not to be slept on.
I needed to turn my night around after watching the Knicks lose a tough one against Oklahoma City. It was on my mind everywhere I went. It even was a big part of my conversation with a homie I watch Knicks games with at Dassara, who I bumped into at Westway. Maybe that’s what I was missing— the company of friends who share the same affinity for NYK. There were more familiar faces all at Westway for the MIRF. Lots of praises and pounds between me, Johnny King (MINY), Tommy Campos, and a hello to Afro Rosemary. I took this photo, with hopes of getting a flick of the PPP projection, but I got tired of waiting for the machine to cycle. Then I dipped out of Westway, onto the next stop, 19 Kenmare.
This PPP tag greeted me as I exited the one cab I took for the night. Ironic? A nice bookend to my previous event hosted by the Peter Pan Posse. Things kind of went south at that point as I headed east. Getlive wasn’t deejaying by the time I arrived; nothing exciting happened. An Israeli lady found much to complain about with how conservative the party people were in how they interacted in such a small space. They didn’t look comfortable being within an elbow’s reach of another person. Then chatting about Israel’s nightlife scene took precedence. The exit sign was soon beckoning me. Next, IMOK. Bible Study raged on. Seeing Maggie Horn brought back memories of some of the best parties we were at years ago at Sway (still trucking to this day, hi Pebbs!). Dice the God held it down as usual. I moseyed onto The DL, which was practically a ghost town. The bathrooms are unisex there, that was an awkward discovery when they’re an anomaly to nightlife venues across Manhattan. I started to feel hazy from the confusion of what type of bathroom I was in, so the woman standing next to me teasing her hair in the mirror didn’t seem to mind. Neither did I. It was officially time to call it a night.