During the sunset of my battle years, I began to see the oncoming changes to the genre and the industry in general. The venues open to independent music began disappearing, one by one. The gentrification of the new millennia all but wiped out a huge percentage of the artists out there, the city where Hip Hop started slowly became the city where only rich people can live. Only those who had bought their apartments or lived in rent control didn’t feel the immediate sting.Other changes ensued as well. Even the artistry changed. Instead of battling in pyramids, which is how we once structured the brackets for events, we would set it up more like a game show. It was a tumultuous time of indecision and struggling artistry. Instead of the big number deals with advances that went nowhere, the labels would issue 360 deals for a piece of everything. Although the sky of our world rattled with the changing of the seasons, for us, survival in the underground went on as it always did. At the time, I would take my Revolutionary Vol.1’s to a small club on the Lower East side ironically called “The Pyramid”. There were many competitors and MC’s who came to the open mic. Some of them were easy to read; mostly young men but a few women, looking for the simple glory of being heard and respected. The underground has always been a complicated texture of people looking for different things. Some of them came for the pleasure of a weekend visit to the city to escape a local area bereft of such activities, others looking for a deal which they thought would take them to the path of wealth and fame… And yet there were a few who just came for blood. Such was the case with a young brother I happened to meet in passing at one of these events. Rather than sitting and socializing with others with the usual cheap drinks or smoking outside, he was standing in a corner of the room, rhyming. He seemed locked in some eternal struggle, either with himself or something we could not see that existed around us, ever present but is only visible to those gifted or cursed enough to behold it. When he was motioned to come up to the stage, he said 3 words “CF… Jersey City!” He then launched into some epic 7 minute freestyle complete with current events, historical references, and with objects in the room or on stage. The room exploded every few seconds as another well timed punchline or well worded observation was thrown to them. Anyone that’s been to NYC knows that they can either be completely dead, or they can be like a Roman mob booing angrily or cheering incessantly. This New York that I once knew is all but gone, folded like space and time to welcome me into this era I live in now, but I remember those evenings of competition and victory. People have always asked me how I stretched my base so far and wide, and I told them that in the first years of making music I traveled incessantly. Not just far away but close by. I went all over Connecticut, Mass and even New Jersey... Newark, Elizabeth, Perth Amboy, Camden, Jersey City, Patterson, etc etc and performed at any venue. Using the same logic in reverse CF, explained to me how although he was from Jersey City, NJ he wanted to hit everywhere close to him that there was space to perform. An inverted version of the plan I had long ago when I started, so we began conversing and eventually became friends. Constant Flow won many open mic and battle victories and was blessed to have the good graces of the vast majority of people who crossed his path and found his story to be genuine and his words no matter their contents to be the contents of his true sentiments. After all, you can really only trust people to be themselves. He’s also the only person I’ve ever known that knocked someone out and then woke them up in the same combination. His travels and reputation led him to release music on his own with other companies and to tour the states and overseas in Europe independently. Eventually, he came to join our collective at the Rebel Arms, and he began learning the touring business. Instead of enjoying the festivities, people would say that he would stay in his room writing rhymes. I would know, I was down the hall doing the books and taxes. One day after Rock the Bells, we were packing up, overlooking an ocean of people lining up to see the last act and CF said to me how over the years there were less and less of us that made the kind of music we all created. I said that this may be true, for now, though soon there will be more like us again. The organic sounds of the street infused with the Revolutionary ideals passed down through the stories of our triumphs and fallen heroes will always have someone to speak its truth. There will always be people like us though, those that see injustice whether in Ferguson, Kabul, Oakland or Gaza and chose to speak, no matter the consequence. CF said that he was ready. So I told him that if he felt he was prepared to make that transformation, we would put him through the fire to recreate the vision in his head into an actual project. He would be melted down and rebuilt to be even stronger and more effective at delivery of these truths. And with the help of Southpaw and others at Viper Records he accomplished this task. When Cf was finished, and I heard what he had constructed to complete his vision, I told him that if it should ever end, then what an end we would make, so as to be remembered long after we were dead and buried. That someday in the future, whilst searching for a lost idea, perhaps during a moment of feeling helpless or during another cycle of authoritarian rule, someone would find our music buried deep in the histories of humanity and awaken our spirits. If they ever needed to hear the message that was prevalent beneath the surface of the world drawn by its contemporary gatekeepers. No matter how far underground they tried to bury us, that in time our “Ascension” would come again. There are only a few artists whose music I believe in, because I have seen it grow from a mere idea into the well constructed, militant driven, musical inspiration along with too many guests whose names you will read for yourself. From the simplicity of a family day turned into a case of police brutality, to the cancers of everyday life to those that change the lives of the people we love everyday, this album speaks on so many topics. From the oversimplified conflicts overseas given a new angle, to the motivation of our new generation given new life, I very much love this album. Brothers and Sisters. Those who are old enough to remember our dying and ever reviving art from the days of old and young soldiers who listen to anything with the fury of honesty and the rage of truth. I give to you, “Ascension” from my brother and long time friend… CF ( Constant Flow ) Jersey City.” Please help us getting this incredible message out by pre-ordering the record here. https://itunes.apple/us/album/ascension/id899761479?ls=1 Thank you to everyone that made this project possible and to all of you who believe in us and yourselves. Peace & Respect, Immortal Technique
Posted on: Mon, 18 Aug 2014 19:47:14 +0000
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