January 11, 2009

What a carazy year

Well, this redesign looks tight, and I’ve never been prouder to be a Hustla. I remember when Larry asked me to get on. I remember when I was watching him vlog on Thursday Plantation. I thought his exposed-brick apartment walls were really cool and that writers/bloggers/vloggers/media mavericks must just be the paidest. Boi, was I wrong.

When I was asked to join the blog, I was excited because I was “on the come up.” Then I freelanced at the paper (not the one that pretty much doesn’t exist anymore), then I was “on the who knows,” and now I’m selling out. So my story with the Hustla is very much right place/right time.

I remember saying we should put Npha on it, and Larry was like, “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” We were lunching. I’m an underdog. I do lunch with hounds.

There’ve been fluctuations, lineup-wise. I think we broke ground having girls blog about rap. I like the team we’re working with. I think we are not boring. Every other rap blog in Seattle should recognize. It’s not the point (the point is love, my friends, love of music), but put any of us in an argument with whoever and watch the fireworks. 

Despite all that, the story of 2008 was the Proof, not the Hustla. 

You can (and everyone should) read the Hustla, but the Proof was humanity on a web page in the aught eight. Who’s fuckin with it? Massline? Nah, but that’s for real, too.

253? Perfect example of how tight the Proof is. 253, you love our style. Once bitten, forever smitten.

From dudes getting punched, to a lot of peope being friends with both those guys, to cancer-serious stuff like the passing of DP’s dad, the tremendous loss to the Bad Cuzin/Billy family, and 29-E’s fam getting on to try and collect more details of the death that’s got the whole city talking about local hiphop right now, events struck me hard on the Proof this year. Several times, I’ve thought, “Damn, this is so necessary, this dialogue. Or this airing out of dirty laundry. Or this discussion of ‘What does XYZ really mean?’”

I wouldn’t be surprised if someone live-blogged their child’s birth on he Proof. People sent pictures of their dicks. People Proofed, went to jail, and came back to Proof again. Proof became a verb.

The Proof is where to go for essential commentary you just can’t find anywhere else. Period. And that’s a collaborative thing. From me throwing a stoned-ass review of Defone’s album up and getting a legitmately looking-out whisper from his brother, “Thanks for reviewing my brother’s shit,” to post-Big Tune beefing, to burnt/soaked/robbed studios, the Proof was both on the pulse and there for me to speak on. Sometimes it was funny, and sometimes that changed. I love that we uninamously told Big Kountry to shut up. We were way ahead of the curve on that one. People won’t really tell Kountry to shut up for weeks, maybe months. We’ve already played that out.


The redesign is tight, looks good, and who’s fuckin with it? No-body. Reigncity, Raindrop, the goddamn Proof—it’s a big deal. Nobody’s doing it like this.

Here’s to another good year. 

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