Amoeblog

I feel like bootin' up -- The Take Fo' story

Posted by Eric Brightwell, February 20, 2009 06:06pm | Post a Comment
Take Fo' Records

Take Fo' Records
is a little known (outside of New Orleans) music label that truly broke ground with its motley roster of artists and progressive attitude, yet it's never received adequate recognition for its pioneering role in music. Whereas New Orleans's other big labels: Big Boy, Cash Money, Mobo, Parkway Pumpin', Untouchable, Tombstone and No Limit all seemed to consciously project a hard-as-nails image with tales of slangin', bangin', head bussin' and wig splittin', Take Fo' welcomed gangstas but also ball busters, dancer-cum-rappers, party starters and probably the first openly gay rapper. Despite the possible negative associations that might come with being part of this hip hop Island of Misfit Toys, the rappers on Take Fo' seemed unbothered and showed up on each others' albums in a show of courageous support.



(In which Job orders some desert.)

Posted by Job O Brother, June 2, 2007 11:41am | Post a Comment

I've made a horrible mistake.

...Okay, maybe I'm being too dramatic in describing it that way. It wasn't a horrible mistake, just a mistake. I apologize for being so over-the-top in my choice of words; it's horrible of me.

I promised y'all a conclusion to my boyfriend-in-the-hospital saga and had even completed writing most of it, but left it on my computer at home, which I no longer have access to. Therefore, you will still see Part 3, just not this weekend.

But why not this weekend? Because I'll being regaling you with a new series of reports from the desert!


A picture of the desert and one of those flat, black things that cars like to drive on.

Yes, I carload of attitude is making its way today to the glamorous town of 29 Palms, California, where we'll be staying at some isolated cabin, drinking tequila and mojitos, taking new photos for our MySpace profiles, hiding fake snakes and terrifying each other, and basically being ridiculous.

In the desert, no one can hear you make an ass of yourself.

Accompanying me is my post-op* boyfriend, Corey, my dearly beloved friend, Carrie, and another sweetheart-o'-my-heart, Logan, who has the distinction of being one of the floor managers at Amoeba Music Hollywood. We'll see what dirt I can get on her before we return to work. Career advancement through blackmail, anyone?


The author, his boyfriend and Carrie with Logan, circa 1986

This is all promoted under the assumption that I'll find Internet access out there, of course. If not, I'll write but post later in the week.

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