Lots of people have stories about things they lost due to a break up. This story however has a twist. Back in the late 90’s I rented the spare room in a house with my friend D and his girlfriend (x).
We had some fun sharing a huge dilapidated house and partying in our 20’s. We threw the odd after hours ‘all back to mine’ & as (x) was a real club music fanatic she had two turntables and a mixer set up in the back room.
She didn’t really ‘do’ rock so we found common ground in 90’s hip hop, 80’s electro and the odd big beat banger of the day. Certain records of mine gravitated to the decks out the back over time. Underworld, Beastie Boys, Wu Tang Clan, Money Mark, Bomb The Bass, Art Of Noise, NWA, Chemical Brothers, Fatboy Slim. We could throw it down if we were called upon to do so. But all was not harmonious in paradise.
One night while I was out at work D & (x) had THE chat and they split up. The following day she moved out. Goddamit if it wasn’t 48 hours before I realised one of my record crates had gone with her. All those DJ tools gone! Grand Master Flash and The Furious Five! Gone! Three Feet High And Rising gone! But worst of all. Mos Def! Black On Both Sides! Gone!
I’d only just bought it a few weeks earlier. I was captivated by Ms. Fat Booty and the story teller swagger laid down there in. The playful way Mos comes off all awkward and coy but still sounds cool and fresh is the strength of his tale. The pop culture references (Sade – Sweetest Taboo, Harrison Ford’s mid 80’s movies output, Reebok Gyms, Gregory Isaacs) were familiar enough but eclectic together. So much so that the whole thing had a novelty to it’s perspective. At a time of Gangster and blat blat blat, Mos sounded like he’d never held a gun or sold rock, he just had the skills and a grin.
Such a summer jam. Torn from it’s happy home in a bitter break up. And the whole time I’d been single.
To quote the man ‘Next morning she gone like it was magic, my shit was Harrison Ford Frantic’ such a sweet tune that ‘Sweetheart I got to have it’