April 30th, 2008
Zilla Rocca’s chief problem isn’t too much rapping, but rather too little stunting like his daddy.
As someone who loves, loves, LOVES lyrics and rappin’ and bars and spittage and darts and verbal dexterity, it occurred to me the other day that rappers today rap way too much. I have a few theories as to why this happened: shorter attention spans, an oversaturated market, cheap recording equipment, MySpace, an endless supply of “producers,” exploitation of mixtapes, Lil’ Wayne, etc.
It seems as though now, most rappers pride themselves on that ability to have recorded 150 songs for an album that will “only” carry 22 songs, 16 of which will blow cow choad. This works great if you’re a member of the Wu-Tang Clan—I think GZA only spit on 7 joints for the entire double album “Wu-Tang Forever.” But for someone like Young Jeezy, to pen a full forty-eight bars over a 100 times in 3 months, well it’s safe to assume he won’t be unleashing anything close to “Verbal Intercourse” soon.
Here’s the biggest problem: most prolific rappers aren’t that interesting. They don’t take many chances. They don’t dabble outside of the same 6 concepts often. They don’t comment enough on the world around them outside of a few lines randomly addressing Obama, the Jena 6, Sean Bell, shitty public schools, etc. To quote Brother Ali, “There’s 8 million ways to wrap words around beats, and 6 millions rappers be using the same three.”
But what happens if you don’t rap ENOUGH? Well, you end up making “True Magic” or whatever the name of the new Mic Geronimo album is. It’s a delicate balance.
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April 15th, 2008
Zilla Rocca also does a mean cover of “Play That Funky Music, White Boy”
I started my day here at “work” as I do any other day: keeping the lights off, drinking some Bolthouse Farms Mocha Cappuccino, and cruising the internet until my eyes open and I can be “productive.” I go to AllHipHop.com first thing every morning to find out what’s the latest on Fat Joe getting clowned by G-Unit, who got shot/arrested the night before, and more info on “albums” I have no intention of ever purchasing (Flo Rida didn’t get a good review!?!? I’m calling Pitchfork right now!). It’s a great site and I’m sure you’re all familiar with it.
However, this morning, the top news headline was:
“Vanilla Ice Charged with Domestic Battery .”
That headline got me thinking: has there been a bigger douchebag than V-Ice the past 15 years in the world of entertainment? Seriously, outside of probably the funniest moment in TV history when he was on that one-off special on MTV (Chris Kattan yelling “VANILLA NO!” as Rob Van Winkle went batshit on the VHS copy of “Ice Ice Baby” with a tiny Louisville Slugger is still the funniest thing he’s ever done), this guy has been nothing but a canker sore in almost all facets of existence. I’m not sure if he’s the Britney Spears of hip hop, or if Britney is the Vanilla Ice of pop music. That question has been pestering zen monks for hundreds of years. Either way, they’re both white trash living off that 90s compact disc money.
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April 7th, 2008
Now that Zilla Rocca and U-God Zilla have joined forces, the planets shall align and miniature golf scores shall plummet.
U-God is probably one of the most interesting MC’s in Wu-Tang. And by interesting I mean “not very talented.” He had that scene-stealing verse on “Da Mystery of Chessboxin” (you’re welcome, Brandon Soderberg) but he also did “Black Shampoo,” still the creepiest thing I’ve ever heard on a hardcore hip hop album. He’s flexed a rhyme style of Mafioso threats, misdirected 5 percent slang, Dungeons and Dragons word salad, and a flow that never quite landed on beat all the time. He’s always had a cool voice, but hasn’t done anything notable with it like Lord Have Mercy. He wore the Wonder Women bracelets years before Ghostface. His first solo album “Golden Arms Redemption” ranks up there with Cappadonna’s “The Yin and the Yang” as one of the holes that helped sink the Wu boat in the late 90s. And the video for “Bazar” shows what happens to your budget when your name isn’t Method Man, Raekwon, Ghostface, RZA, GZA, or ODB.
With that said, I’ve always kinda rooted for U-God. He was never as technically precise as Inspectah Deck or GZA. He was never as intriguing nor mysterious as Masta Killa. I’m not sure if he did as much cocaine as Ol’ Dirty. And he didn’t pronounce his “R’s” as “W’s” like RZA. U-God (does anyone refer to him as Golden Arms anymore?) would sneak up on you with some standout verses here and there like on “The Big Doe Rehab” (“Semi-Automatic Full Rap Metal Jacket” from the “High School High” soundtrack is probably his best verse). And who could forget him flipping out on Method Man as they cruised on a bullet train through Japan during “The Show?” Plus if my memory serves me correct, his character on the Wu-Tang video game for Playstation was pretty decent, so kudos to you Mr. Lucky Hands.
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March 11th, 2008
Zilla Rocca is such a good rapper that Dilla refused to give him beats.
The last two weeks I’ve spent an abnormal amount of time listening to the late great James Yancey. I have nothing new to add to his technical prowess as an innovator of the beats AND of the flow. He’s been written about graciously and comprehensively since his passing 2 years ago. At this point, all we can do as hip hop fans is hit repeat on “Stakes is High” or “Fuck the Police” and vibe in our cars with the King of the Hand Clap.
What I did notice though after listening to The Shining, Welcome 2 Detroit , Like Water for Chocolate, Amplified, Fantastic Vol. 2 and Jaylib’s Champion Sound was that Jay’s greatest triumph as a producer wasn’t necessarily the off-kilter pacing of his drums nor the seamless blend of phlanged-out samples and spacey Detroit synths. No—Dilla had the gift of making average, ho-hum, nonsensical rappers sound like superstars.People worship at the altar of DJ Premier because not only does he make burger-flippers like Group Home sound dope, but he makes technically GREAT rappers sound UNFUCKWITABLE (hello Nas, Royce, Common, Jay, Big, etc). And they’re right—his tracks have a signature thumping kick drum and harsh snares (that 9th Wonder still can’t mimic) coupled with 2-4 bar chopped up samples that never get in the way of the lyricism. No big drum fills, no crashing cymbals—just supreme head nodding.
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February 14th, 2008
Zilla Rocca has no heart. Instead, his chest cavity is filled with grime and steel. Like Keith Richards, he cannot be killed by conventional weapons.
Valentine’s Day is here…again. On my quest to spend the bulk of my time not buying chocolate, heart-shaped candies, nor ridiculously overpriced flowers, I stumbled upon quite possibly the best “worst” gifts you could possibly get someone for Valentine’s Day. Below is a list of the top 10 worst gifts available RIGHT NOW on the trusty ol’ internets. Bad spelling included.
- The Valentine Toilet Paper Card
Product Description: “Are you at a loss for a Valentine gift this year? Looking for something unique yet humorous…Perhaps a “teaser” gift for your Significant Other? Try our Valentine Toilet Paper Card! Sure to elicit smiles and laughter, along with being practical, this gift will be an instant hit! A great gift for those who refuse to go the traditional candy-and-flowers route!” $14.00
Perfect Valentine’s Gift For: George Brett post-hemmoroids, Vanilla Ice (as played by Jim Carrey on “In Living Color”), whatever kid raps that “Wipe Me Down” song
Verdict: This would actually be a funny gift if you could personalize the note on the card (“Girl, you are the shit”). However, the Toiler Paper Card comes with its own poem. It’s really gay and sounds like Fran the 45 year old cat lady from Hallmark wrote it. Here’s the last line: “I’d buy a roll of tissue paper to wipe your pretty bum.” There’s nothing more romantic than telling a woman how much you’d love to clean up her poop shoot. It’s like Colt 45, except it works…(not anytime in recorded human history.)
2. The Love Gun
Product Description: “Love is in the air…literally! The Love Gun is a 5-3/4″ red and pink plastic cupid cannon. Just load one of the four tiny 1-1/4″ plastic cupids into the compartment and shoot it at the girl or guy of your dreams. The Love Gun’s powers have not been fully tested. Love is not guaranteed. $4.95
Perfect Valentine’s Gift For: Dick Cheney, die hard fans of The Love Below, passive-aggressive hippies, the designer of Gnarls Barkley’s MySpace page
Verdict: The term “love gun” itself is an oxymoron, and it sounds like a weapon left over from Mystery Men. As a straight man, I’m reluctant to purchase anything that is described as a “red and pink plastic cupid cannon.” True, “love is not guaranteed” but I’m not in an emo band nor do I particularly care for John Cusack rom-coms not titled High Fidelity nor Better Off Dead. It should boost your street cred in San Francisco which is a positive, but overall I’ve never found gay weaponry to be terribly romantic.
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January 22nd, 2008
Inspired by a headline on HipHopGame.com that described Fat Joe’s latest opus as a ‘gangster rap album’” (as though he were departing from his recent string of prog-folk-protest-spoken words LP’s), Zilla Rocca has stared into the abyss and uncovered shocking scoops about a slew of upcoming rap records. Please feel free to add your own news updates as you see fit.
From Billboard.com:
- Fat Joe describes upcoming album as a “gangster rap album” that will get “no love whatsoever from the streets” but sell “a sh*tload of ringtones” because of his “versatility” and “love” for Miami, Houston, Atlanta, the Bay Area, and whichever “hot” hip hop spot pops up during the recording of said album, which he will no doubt “incorporate” in bringing that “new Fat Joe sh*t.”
- Lil’ Wayne describes upcoming album as an “uneven collection of similar, overly praised punchlines by white hipster bloggers who drink Sparks for breakfast.” Wayne also describes his upcoming album as a dedication to his “hetero-lifemate” Birdman, akin to what “Jay and Silent Bob would do on record” if they were tattooed “Southern millionaire, ballers” who hated wearing t-shirts.
- Busta Rhymes describes upcoming album as “my greatest attempt yet to break the world’s record for use of the ‘n word’ on a recorded piece of media.” Sources tell Billboard.com that possible song titles include “All My N*ggas and B*tches In the Place Need to Value Chivalry,” “N*ggas Really Enjoy My New Muscles, and So Do B*tches,” and “All My N*ggas in the House Haven’t Been Satisfied Since ‘E.L.E’.”
Somebody’s Gonna’ Bake An Awfully Large Pizza
- Raekwon describes upcoming Cuban Linx 2 album as “the best write-off Dr. Dre has ever handled, dunn.” Full of “punch you in your sh*t” tracks, the Chef promises to take fans into his “chamber, namean, where you got the Lex Diamond and the Figaro King on some ‘oh sh*t’ namean, ‘cause yo, when this pelican drops out the sky real quick, namean the game gon’ be a casserole at Sunday brunch, n*gga!” Calls to Aftermath have not been returned, nor do they have any record of a “Raekwon” on their roster of artists.
- Eminem describes upcoming album as “my best 70 minute dick joke yet.” Marshall Mathers, who hasn’t released a proper studio album 2004’s Encore, has been in the studio “really studying the art of production” by listening to more “late 70s and early 80s rock radio songs” and promising to incorporate new sounds like “whatever Dr. Dre is doing right now,” only “really, really quite terrible.”
- Lauryn Hill describes her long awaited follow up to 1998’s Album of the Year The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill as a “work in progress.” But Ms. Hill wants her fans not to worry– Pras, her fellow Fugee cohort, will “not be allowed within 200 yards of a microphone, mixing console, vocal booth, or soda machine.”
- Jay-Z describes his follow-up to the recently released American Gangster Soundtrack as a “look into my past as a former drug dealer who turned his life around by succeeding in the music business and eventually landing a famous singer, opening some clubs, and owning a basketball franchise.” Early reports link Mr. Carter, formerly president of Def Jam/Universal, and his new album to the next logical movie tie-in, Sylvester Stallone’s Rambo.
Download:
MP3: Zilla Rocca-”Hold Your Head”
MP3: Zilla Rocca-”Faster Blade Freestyle”
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January 1st, 2008
Zilla Rocca’s New Year’s resolution for 2008 is to slap more kufi’s.
I don’t know about you, but I love a good gangster rap album. It not only manages to scare the bejesus out of old white people who are running for public office, but gangster rap also shares specific qualities not found in any other genre or subgenre of music. How do you know if that new album you just bought/boosted/shared illegally is an authentic slice of gangster pudding cake? Just following my trusty guide! Below is a list of five songs titles you will find on most, if not ALL, gangster rap albums. Eat a dick!
1. “Gangsta Shit”
If the best hip hop music is based on the theory that “less is more,” what can possibly top any song called “Gangsta Shit?” According to AllMusic.com, there are 52 songs with this titled, with artists ranging from The Game to Tony Touch to Hollertronix (how ironic, right you guys?). If you go out on a limb and enter “Gangsta Sh*t,” you have artists like Diddy, Outkast, B.G., Do or Die, Scarface, and Snoop Dogg to add to the mix. The only difference between a rap song called “Gangsta Shit” and “Gangsta Sh*t” is that Tipper Gore approves of the latter.
WHAT TO EXPECT: Menacing strings, minor chord keys, hectic hi-hats, references to Scarface, Godfather, Goodfellas, Sopranos, etc., someone paying “homage” to 2pac, no actual gangsters present on the song
ALTERNATE TITLES: “Tax Evasion Shit,” “It Fell Off a Truck Shit,” “Heavily Influenced by Al Pacino’s Career Choices Shit.”
2. “My Life”
Ahh…the burden of being a gangster rapper. Not only have you survived this long to make a mixtape, but in your trial and tribulations, you’ve managed to see some horrific stuff. And what better way to express YOUR singular, individual experiences than naming a song called “My Life.” Apparently, Freaky Zeeky, C-Murder, Kool G Rap, DMX, Geto Boys, Shaky Slick, Shotty Capogne and hundreds of others have a lot in common.
WHAT TO EXPECT: Downtempo R&B drums, shrill female vocals on the hook, outside musicians to play the Triton, somber rappin’, “the realest shit I ever wrote.”
ALTERNATE TITLES: “My Best 2pac Impersonation,” “Even Gangstas Get the Blues,” “What My Ghostwriter Has Been Through.”
3. “Ride With Me”
Starting in the late 90s, more and more rap albums had songs with titles similar to this one. Mostly, it was a clubby, car stereo track whereas the rapper was telling a chick to get into his car and just “let herself go” so to speak. Lately, in the post-Pac/DMX era, “Ride With Me” has served as an invitation to the listener so that we may come along for the psychological journey through the mind of a gangster rapper. Both are never recommended if you are a) a woman without a proper martial arts background or b) a man who feels kinda weird about another man commanding you to “ride” with him. Unless that man is Hunter Thompson, I’ll pass.
WHAT TO EXPECT: For the ladies, some hand claps, that “bounce,” rhymes that rhyme the same words together, heavy bass, tambourine/triangle hits, and overt invitations to defile themselves. For the bros, a trip through the struggle. BORING!
ALTERNATE TITLES: “Get Out of My Dreams, Get into My Car,” “Carpool Pimpin’,” “Cardio is Overrated,” “What’s Wrong with a Couple of Guys Goin’ for a Ride on an Emotional Journey?”
4. “I Miss My N*gga/Soldier/Homie/Dog/Weedcarrier”
There’s nothing wrong with penning a song for a fallen friend, but just like “My Life,” it begins to lose credibility when everyone is lazily using the same song title. A good way to write this song is what Bone Thugs did with “Crossroads.” That video had the bad-ass angel of death who was taking people under like Anton Chigurh in No Country for Old Men. We even got to experience probably the most touching, yet un-rhyming, rap of all time when Wishbone said, “Why’d they kill my dog, and man I miss my Uncle Charrrrlllles, y’all”
WHAT TO EXPECT: R&B hook from a male singer, strings/keys, just enough humanity to conjure actual emotions, some random cursing to keep it “real.”
ALTERNATE TITLES: “Tears in Mothafuckin’ Heaven,” “I’ve Been Meaning to Get Another Tattoo,” “If I was White, They’d Call me Emo For This One.”
5. “Fuck You”
This is tricky, because this song title either announces a gangster rapper’s displeasure with someone or it’s a declaration of what said gangster rapper is planning on doing to a woman who is clearly not trained in martial arts. See, it’s the former when Cam’ron is saying it on Confessions of Fire and the latter when Dr. Dre and Devin the Dude are letting it out on 2001. Either way, it’s the opposite of subtle, which is the definition of gangster rap. And Sauce Money once made an entire album with this theme; he bitched out though and called it Middle Finger U. Fuck him.
WHAT TO EXPECT: For the ladies, some sweet nothings whispered into your ear over a nice thick 808 sprinkled with some TV-MA talk from T-Pain/R.Kelly/Akon on the hook. For the fellas, an adrenaline rush and the hip hop equivalent of watching Twisted Sisters’ video for “We’re Not Gonna Take It” for the first time circa 1986.
ALTERNATE TITLES: For the guys: “There’s Only 7 Nuggets in This Box, Potna!,” “KOCH Ain’t Returnin’ My Calls,” “SERENITY NOW!”. For the ladies: “Let’s Have Some Intercourse in This Mothafucka,” “I’m a Grower, Not a Shower,” “Let’s Do It Before 50 Needs More Yogurt.”
And there you have it. Are there better song titles on most gangster rap albums? You betcha. But these mainstays have graced CD’s from the bus-pass totin’ east coast thugs, to the pen-n-pixeled dope boyz in the dirty-dirty, all the way out to the west coast loc’s with Easter Sunday hair.
MP3: Zilla Rocca-”I Never Loved Her”
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December 3rd, 2007
In elite circles in the Cayman Islands, Zilla Rocca is hailed as a deity.
It’s now early January 2004, roughly 11 months before I quit my job as a most distinguished retail associate. It’s that time of the year when all businesses slow down after the mad holiday rush of working long hours to make 40% of your profits for the entire year. I savor this time because the phones don’t ring. Traffic isn’t as violent and annoying. People are back to being assholes to each other in public. Normalcy.
At my unnamed retail store, this was the time of the year for exchanges, returns, and packing up all the overstocked items to be shipped back to corporate (for our store, it was the lifesized cardboard cut-outs of Orlando Bloom from Lord of the Rings). It was a Monday night in January–quiet, blissful, and sane. Instead of doing what we’d normally do on Monday nights (watch Alias: Season 1 on DVD behind the counter), myself and another associate were pulling items off the shelves while our manager worked the register and handled the exchanges and returns. You’d be surprised how many people got EXTRA copies of Linkin Park , Rod Stewart’s The Great American Songbook and NOW That’s What I Call Music! Volume whatever. (By now you should be aware of the countless improved anti-theft measures that were taken from Part 1 of this series. If not, take ten minutes and read it over. That information is crucial to this story.)
Our store was right off of the Delaware river , so we were unfortunate enough to have the air smell like sludge, seagull shit and French fries mixed with tar and the black plague. We were in a shopping center next door to a Cingular wireless store and a giant Superfresh grocery store. To our left with a McDonald’s which led out to Delaware Avenue , a heavily congested two-way road that can run you from the sports stadiums all the way up to Northeast Philly. Most thieves would have a getaway car parked near McDonald’s and were able to skate off onto Delaware Avenue for a clean escape. Or if the thief just grabbed 14 copies of Friday After Next, he could run out the door towards the intersection where he would risk a Frogger-like death but would ensure that no staff would run after him (as I stated in Part One, our policy for theft prevented us from leaving the store).
Because Tiny Lister Needed the Work
It’s about 7pm, dark and bitterly windy. My manager is at the register. I’m on the floor grabbing CDs and the other associate is doing the same. Oddly enough, I saw a tall black man waiting in line at the register behind an old lady returning something. He had a big department store paper bag and was just standing there. I walked up to the register to check his bag. He said, “I just need change for a twenty so I can catch the bus.” He reached out and held the $20 in his left hand. I looked in his right hand and saw the department store bag packed to the gills with Philadelphia Freeway, Kiss of the Dragon, and the deluxe gift edition DVD of Scarface. The kicker was that each DVD was wrapped in masking tape and had a white anti-theft sticker still on the side. Plus, there were NO department stores within eight miles of our store.
I realized he caught us sleeping and picked us clean with a booster bag that we didn’t check. And now, this f*cking idiot was asking for change so he could walk out the door and catch the bus home after a massive come up. As a sales associate, I couldn’t open the register unless it was a sale, so I told him that he’d have to wait until the manager was finished with the other customer. Amazingly, he did. F*cking nitwit!
I quickly ran over to the other associate and asked if he’d seen this guy walk in and boost items. He too hadn’t seen the guy. We both agreed that we’d stop him at the door and shake him down. As we began walking towards the door, the birdbrain isn’t even within 2 feet of the door when the anti-theft alarm starts going off. “BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!” He froze. His face collapsed. It was like that scene in Bronx Tale when Sonny locked those rowdy bikers inside the Chez Bippy and proceeded to beat the death out of them.
You Can Never Trust a Place Called The Chez Bippy
Very firmly we said to him, “Sir, you CAN’T leave the store yet. We have to check your bag.” The guy looked like he just shit himself. His options were to A) turn around run like hell into the night with his bag of goodies, B) drop his booster bag and then turn around and run like hell, or C) attack us and run away with whatever was left of the botched shoplifting scheme.
He chose D) calmly walk backwards out the door while casually assuring us that he indeed didn’t really have anything in his bag. “Oh, that’s nothing. I came in with this bag. It must be from the other store. It’s no big deal. I’m about to just get on the bus!” Again, we firmly said, “No sir, don’t even THINK about leaving. You have something in your bag and we have to look at it or else we call the cops!” And he just brushed it off while slowly creeping through the door! “Oh no, trust me, I don’t have ANYTHING. Your alarm system is probably acting up. I’m late for the bus.”
By this point, he was out the door and still watching us as he walked backwards. We were completely dumbfounded. We kept badgering him but knew we couldn’t cross the threshold of the glass door like the baseball players in Field of Dreams. Shockingly, the guy relented a little bit and said, “Oh I do have one DVD. That’s all. Just one.” He went into the bag and tossed us some kung-fu DVD to get us off his back.
Iowa: Like Philly But With More Corn
We were never in this position before. No training video had ever presented us with this situation. We looked at each other and said, “F*ck it, let’s get him!” We told our manager to call the cops and broke out into the freezing parking lot. Stupidly, this jackass didn’t run towards Delaware Ave where he could’ve probably lost us. He ran further into the shopping center where there was no clear cut exit. We saw a patrol car gliding through the parking lot and waved him over, told him the deal, and he fired up the sirens.
My co-worker turned around and flew in the direction of the guy, who moved quicker once he dropped his booster bag. I found it under a truck some random guy said “HE DROPPED IT RIGHT THERE!” I picked up the bag and ran towards Bath & Body Works. By this time, there were 2 patrol cars parked outside. I showed them what I found and asked if they found the guy. They said my co-worker thought the thief ran inside Bath & Body Works and he went in there with another cop to scope it out. They came out a minute later, looking confused and defeated.
My co-worker then turned his head towards Old Navy, pointed his finger, and shouted, “THERE HE IS! THAT’S HIM!” He appeared to be walking casually out of the parking lot, thinking he just escaped from the worst shoplifting attempt ever. After he was spotted, he froze up and his eyes bulged out of his head. He looked like Tryone Biggums getting a colonoscopy. The cops, who by now were pulling up in cars and wagons, made a bee line towards this numskull and proceeded to swarm him and “subdue” him if you know what I mean (black man + Philly + nighttime + horrible weather + bored cops = asswhoopin’).
Afterwards, we went back to our store and gave statements. The guy had about $300 worth of stolen items in the bag. The cops were finishing up the end of their holiday patrols and were delighted to see some action. They brought the perp around in the wagon for us to identify him. He was laying on his stomach, facing the front of the cabin so we couldn’t see his face. I said to the cop, “Jesus, what the hell did you do to him?!” The cop replied, “Nothing. After we gripped him up, he said he was going into diabetic shock and pretended to collapse. That’s him though, right? Good. We’re outta here.”
And that’s why crime doesn’t pay in Philly after the holidays: you’ll get beat down over Freeway CDs by six cops outside of Bath & Body Works.
Download:
MP3: Zilla Rocca-”Faster Blade Freestyle”
MP3: Zilla Rocca-”Hold Your Head Bounce”
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November 21st, 2007
Zilla Rocca was caught stealing once when he was five. He enjoys stealing. It’s as simple as that.
Before I was an international bloggin’ sensation, I put in three years working for the worst corporate retailer not named Wal-Mart. You know this, I talked about this earlier in my post on the top 5 most returned CDs from 2002-2004.
In the aforementioned post, I alluded to the business arrangement we, the severely underpaid staff, made with the sticky handed crackheads who would routinely come into the store with freshly boosted CD’s and DVD’s. We got first dibbs on such hits as Training Day and The Blueprint 2 on their release dates. Crack heads were paid $8 a pop to go buy some more “medicine.” And there was much rejoicing for all parties! Hurrah!
However, along with the discounted deals from smokers, there was a yin to the yang of weekly hook-ups from criminals: thieves who were trying to come up on OUR products. Were these thieves “outsider” crackheads who didn’t get the hood memo stating that we, the severely underpaid staff, were “insiders” who knew their techniques of blatant thievery? And were said “outsider” crackheads too stupid to understand that we BOUGHT stolen products daily, therefore making us immune to theft by basic logic? These uninformed smokers were truly biting the hand that would happily feed them!
I Don’t Think You Understand Joe Rogan, I Smoke Rocks
This particular corporate retailer had the worst possible policy when it came to theft. Most stores have, at the very minimum, some overweight mope pulling down $10 an hour to stand near the door in their rent-a-cop suit while deterring theft and checking out women’s asses. Or some retailers opt for the “undercover” mopes who pretend to shop but basically just follow and grill the shit out of any black or white trash customers deemed “suspicious.” My corporate masters had us, the severely underpaid staff, act not only as customer service reps, maintenance, material handlers, inventory specialists, bank tellers but loss prevention hawks as well. How were we trained to handle the elusive, retail criminal mastermind? Watch a 10 minute video, of course.
Before I go any further, let me just say that some thieves are REALLY good. Some are elaborate: they scout the place out, they have multiple distractions going at the same time, they have a getaway car ready outside, they employ non-suspicious accomplices….just so they can steal 15 copies of Chocolate Factory. I applaud these jokers because an 18 year old in an oversized golf shirt trying to convince a 40 year old woman than Jennifer Lopez and J. Lo are the same person can’t possibly see the con unfolding from 3 different directions.
Now, our specific policy was to watch potential thieves, and if you SAW them putting something in their jacket, or heard them tear off the plastic to a DVD, you immediately ran and got a manager. If the thief managed to run out the door, it was out of our jurisdiction. We could not chase them nor physically manhandle thieves. We had to tattle on them first and then simply hope for the best. Oh, and call the police, who on average showed up 45 minutes to 3 hours later. We did have 1 camera pointed at the door but watching footage on that thing was like watching a Paris Hilton sex tape on a Verizon V cast phone underwater.
Let’s Just All Pretend That We Didn’t Watch This
My store manager at the time was an Irish badass from South Philly who L-O-V-E-D confronting possible thieves. He strongarmed our daily crackheads for specific items, pissed off annoying customers who tried to scheme their way into shady returns, and generally got off on loss prevention as a whole. This manager came up with a brilliant anti-theft system: apply an additional white anti-theft sticker to the OUTSIDE of DVD’s, then wrap it up with clear masking tape.
Most DVD’s have the white anti-theft stickers attached on the inside. These stickers are de-activated on a magnetic pad at the register after purchase. Thieves will typically either line a shopping bag with layers of duct tape to deactivate the stickers (aka a “booster bag”) or just cut a slit on the opening side of a DVD, wiggle the disc out, and put the empty DVD box back on the shelf. He didn’t apply this strategy to CD’s because CD’s were locked into plastic shucks which already have the anti-theft device inside of them.
He also made every customer check their bag at the register. Our company didn’t like this because you could potentially be sued if, say, someone brought up a bag and then got it back later while claiming they bought a diamond ring and it was no longer in the bag that they brought into the store. Whatever. This corporate retailer was just too cheap to employ fat mopes to stand around in rent-a-cop clothes.
This manager also decided to only put 1 copy of potential hot items (read: rap/R&B CD’s and hood approved movies) on display racks and in the aisles. All the inventory was put behind the register, so at the very worst someone would steal 3 copies of State Property: The Movie compared to 22. This was such a simple premise and yet our corporate higher-ups preferred to have us, the underpaid staff, stalk and hawkeye anyone who picked up anything in the Rap/Gospel/R&B sections and/or the Action/Urban DVD section.
This made life for people like myself and Big O less stressful. Now, with an improved anti-theft policy, we would only have to focus on the painfully moronic thieves and go back to what we were good at: making fun of customers’ tastes, cracking on girls, telling jokes and watching DVD’s at the front counter.
Be sure to check back new week for part 2 of “Been Caught Stealing.”
Download:
MP3: Jane’s Addiction-”Been Caught Stealing”
MP3: King Tubby-”Stealing”
Posted in The Beat Generation | 6 Comments »
November 13th, 2007
If you do not listen to his music Zilla Rocca will invade Japan. And he will be victorious.
It’s been a long and crazy hiatus from the Beat Generation. In the meantime, this has been the busiest month in Beat Garden’s short history thus far. We’re wrapping up Nico the Beast’s solo album No Beast So Fierce, my solo record Fall Back Friday, and we’re about a third of the way into the Triple Nickels album. Plus, I’ve been handling the podcast Zilla Rocca Radio (thank you to everyone who’s tuned in thus far; new episodes every other week). And on top of that, Jeff Mothafuckin’ Weiss came down to Philly to see the birthplace of Clean Guns, the shadiest spot to buy a 40 of Steel Reserve on a Sunday night (7th and Snyder—holla!) and, finally, the official row home of Beanie Sigel’s mother. At the bare minimum, it’s been exhausting.
With all of this label shit on my mind, I just want to air out some stuff that’s pissing me off! So here we go, in no particular order whatsoever:
- I just read a nice little segment on XXL’s website where they had current rappers ask Scarface questions about his career, the current climate of the game and why Southern rappers put as much of a premium on lyrics as they do with grammar lessons. I’ve never been a big ‘Face fan—I respect him and even bought that “Smile” joint with 2pac on cassette single. And “Guess Who’s Back” is one of the dopest joints of this millennium, I just never went out of my way to buy an album. Anyhpw, after getting great questions from Saigon and Pitbull (seriously…Pitbull), I read this “question” from Soulja Boy, my personal favorite to win Best Usage of White Out on Stunna Shades at the ’08 Ozone Awards.
“How did you feel when you first heard my song ‘Crank Dat Soulja Boy?’”
Like Our Parent’s Remembering Where They Were When They Heard JFK Was Shot, We Will Remember The First Time We Heard “Crank That”
- I realize that Soulja Boy is completely disposable and will be stocking shelves at Patmark at this time next year, and that question merely proved how brain dead the kid is. Scarface has to be almost 40 years old. According to the piece, he can play nearly every instrument. He’s worked with everyone from Jay-Z to Rick Rubin to Nas. He’s been in the game over 20 years and was the only cat from down South that most purists respected as a lyricist. A message to Soulja Boy from me: GROWN, RESPECTED MC’S DON’T LISTEN TO SONGS ABOUT SUPERMANNING HOES! The only men who do that are the rich white guys paying for their daughter’s crystal meth habits thanks to your ringtone sales. Asking Scarface how he “felt” when he heard arguably the worst song of 2007 is like asking Larry David what emotional state he was in when watching the first episode of “Yo Momma.”
- Fuck Brian Billick. I was down 3 points in my fantasy league going into last Monday night’s Ravens vs. Steelers game. I had Matt Stover, a kicker who single handedly was the offense for Baltimore in ’00. Granted, the Steelers are quietly tearing up the league this year while Baltimore is coming back to earth after going 13-3 last year. But the fact that Matt Stover, their lone consistent offensive weapon, only managed to get an extra point, therefore causing me to lose by 2 points, made me want to toss that smug asshole Brian Billick down a flight of stairs covered in thumb tacks. This is the same guy who signed Elvis Grbac and Randall Cunningham after winning a title with motherfucking Trent Dilfer—if it ain’t broke, you tall prick, then don’t fix it!
- I really can’t stand chicks who pretend to be interested in a guy, but really just want their ego stroked while staying with a C02 inhaling, American Eagle sporting boyfriend who treats them like shit. Women everywhere, take heed: don’t waste a man’s time by putting the word out that you want to be holla’d at, but then when dude comes around in person to doing the holla-ing, you put your head down and snub him. Not a good look.
Only Built 4 Cuban Linx 2: Like Chinese Democracy But With Less Coke
- Raekwon’s got a lot of balls calling out the RZA’s musical decisions one month before the new Wu album (the first in 6 years, mind you) is set to drop. Rae, last time I checked, when you were left to your own devices to make musical decisions, you made Immobilarity, probably the worst follow-up to a stone cold classic in rap history. You would think you would’ve learned your lessons after dropping that cold turd, but no….you come back with The Lex Diamond Story. I didn’t buy that record ‘cause I was still salty about wasting $14 on Immobilarity—I even tried to convince myself it was half decent for a good 3 months. Nope. Cologne on dogshit don’t make it potpourri. People talk shit about Lil’ Wayne (and rightfully so), but if you peep the Vatican mixtapes that Raekwon puts out every 2 months, you’d see another MC that will literally get on ANY track with anybody. I’ve come to dig his style a whole lot the past few months, and he always handles the majority of songs on any Wu-Tang album, so I don’t question his work ethic or dedication to the group. He’s an amazing lyricist who crafted a classic album that is still being ripped off today. However, it’s not a good idea to blast the musical mastermind behind your own success just weeks before the release of a highly touted album, while you yourself rhyme on worse beats than Nas.
- I’m pissed at the internet mindset in general, especially when it comes to American Gangster, the movie and soundtrack. I’ve fallen victim to the “Oh shit, I can own this album/watch this movie before it comes out” attitude since back in 2000 when I bought my first bootleg CD (Canibus’ 2000 B.C.). I’m all about not wasting your hard earned money on wack material. But this movie was made by Ridley Scott. It stars Denzel Washington and Russell Crowe. It’s based on a fascinating crime boss. It’s flooded with hip hop stars not playing typical rapper roles. The soundtrack is made by Jay-Z (the GOAT based on my science) and the score is composed by Hank Shocklee of the Bomb Squad. So let’s run this down:
The director of Alien, Gladiator, Blade Runner, and Black Hawk Down
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The star of Training Day, Man on Fire, Inside Man, and Malcolm X
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The star of Gladiator, L.A. Confidential, Cinderella Man, and 3:10 to Yuma
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Supporting roles from T.I. (multi-platinum rapper), Common (somewhat platinum rapper), RZA (multi-platinum cross-genre star) and Idris Elba (infinite hood pass as Stringer Bell on The Wire).
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True life story about a notorious mob boss, something all Americans respond to since we love crime, murder, sex, money and the eventual downfall of powerful figures
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A soundtrack inspired by the movie from the greatest MC to ever touch a mic, who was SO inspired by the movie, he went strictly into Reasonable Doubt mode SPECIFICALLY FOR THE FUCKING MOVIE (something he hadn’t done since 1996) and knocked out a cohesive, cinematic conceptual album that was his most focused work in six years.
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A score composed by Hank Shocklee, a man who helped make arguably the greatest hip hop album of all time in It Takes a Nation of Millions, someone who is so technically gifted and intelligent at his craft that he took music cues based solely on the chronological order of the movie (i.e. if the scene is set in 1969, he made music that sounded only like 1969, not 1970 or 1971).
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A thoroughly enjoyable night at the movies coupled with a wonderful ride home listening to an inspired piece of art based on the movie you just watched. I can understand watching the bootleg in advance if the movie starred John Leguizamo, Treach, Fat Joe, Denise Richards one of the goons from Sopranos—oh wait, that was Empire, a really shitty take on this same movie. Wait until the movie and CD drops and spend money on good material, my friends. Pillage and steal over priced garbage. \
Download:
MP3: Jay-Z ft. Nas-”Success”
MP3: Zilla ft. Mally from the 612-”Sunbathing Bitches”
Posted in The Beat Generation | 9 Comments »
