Monday Night at BAM's Afro-Punk Skate Park: The Fifth Annual Afro-Punk Festival's Finale with Janelle Monae, Saul Williams and more

We've just come back from the spectacular finale of three wonderful days of the Afro-Punk Festival's annual stay at the BAM parking lot, aka Afro-Punk Skate Park. We had the high privilege of watching two dynamic, engergetic performances by faves Saul Williams and the goddess Janelle Monáe. There was an incredible spirit in the last few hours of the Afro-Punk Festival that's left us feeling exhilarated and energized even while our 58yo body not used to standing for so long is wiped out.

We came in sometinme after 6 p.m. via the Flatbush Avenue side and got a peek backstage, where the performers, staffers and VIPs were.

The Afro-Punk Festival is beloved by the weather gods, especially in this rainy summer. This was another day with a nearly cloudless sky, and not too hot.

We made our way to a spot where we could at least see a little of what was going on. This was the most crowded day. DJs were playing The Fugees and "One Love" when we arrived.

In the crowd, we spotted a man conversing with a human boombox.

The festival's chief sponsor, Mountain Dew, kept everyone hydrated and caffeinated.

Although the majority of the crowds at the Afro-Punk Festival were, clearly, properly, members of the African diaspora, during our three days in attendance we saw people of every conceivable race and hairstyle. We spotted hijabs, yarmulkes, dastaars and a patka along with do-rags, baseball caps, fedoras, several berets, a straw boater, a snood, and other head coverings. But then we spent a lot of time looking at the backs of folks' heads.

The fashion sense on display was incredible (said the alter kocker in the $13.99 Medgar Evers College T-shirt),

Also, the work of our fellow members of the legal profession was in evidence:

"How did you hear about Janelle?" the woman next to us asked. She said someone had sent her an email, that she'd never heard of Afro-punk before. Later, after her set, a young white guy with good gaydar asked us if Janelle had already gone on. He was sad to learn he'd missed her, but he stayed for Saul Williams. So clearly tonight was getting a crossover audience.

As we waited through what seemed like interminable sound checks, a skinny guy in a do-rag saying "one, two, one two, hey hey..." into the mike, you could feel the anticipation.

Finally "the most phenomenal performer of all time" was introduced, and the crowd roared as Janelle made a very slow and very dramatic (what else?) appearance onstage.

Since we were standing behind the tallest people in the audience, we got good glimpses of Janelle, but mostly through the spaces between other people's heads. We were pretty much hemmed in, but we saw her through most of her wonderful set, although sometimes we lost sight. At a couple of points, she moved so energetically that her signature hairstyle became undone. Magically, it reappeared as perfect, one time after she went offstage as the guitarist riffed maniacally. So we couldn't always see Janelle. But that counted was that we could always hear her! As of Monday morning, we could actually get a view of her crowd-surfing here, but it didn't beat being there!

Any pics we have of Janelle or Saul Williams are so bad and distant and small that they're likely to inadvertantly demean what were two amazingly intimate and dynamic performances, so we'll just post stock photos or steal from the people who were using actual digital cameras with zoom lenses. There's probably better print coverage on other blogs, but maybe not by anyone older!

We're ancient enough to have grown up with pre-rock "standards," and we heard "Smile" throughout our childhood in the '50s and '60s, but nobody but nobody does a version like Janelle Monáe. It brings tears to our eyes and goosebumps to our wrinkled skin. The audience at the Afro-Punk Festival, as it did last year, was absolutely transfixed by this song. She got up really high so everyone could see her.

At the end of "Smile," Janelle said, "Thanks, God. Dedicated...to...Michael...Jackson!"

Someone shouted out, "That's the best!"

But there was a lot more. We first saw Janelle at last year's Afro-Punk Festival and were blown away.

Her staging, her moves, all are impeccable. But it's not just her vogueing, mugging and vamping, because she has a voice of tremendous power, sweet and commanding. And, yes, the dry-ice-created smoke helps the air of drama, as does the way Janelle can move her fingers, but it's all done sincerely, and that's what the audience relates to. Speaking of "sincerely," here's "Sincerely Jane":

During that song, a couple of people yelled out, "Get out of the way!" - meaning the videographer who was getting in front of Janelle. You can't blame them. At some points we mostly had to watch her by looking up at the screens of other people's cameras, held high above their heads.

She was still amazing. We'd love to see her in a Broadway show, if there's one that can contain her.

These two somehow climbed the fence or whatever and were dancing to Janelle's songs from Flatbush Avenue.

After Janelle got off to terrific applause, we got treated to the high-flying spectacular tricks of Brooklyn-based Jimmy Mac's Bulldog Bikes riders. We got a nosebleed just watching. Also that sick sinking feeling in the pit of our stomach.

The skill and practice to do that kind of stuff, not to mention the leg and upper-body muscles, are really impressive. Some of the younger, littler kids were pretty cool, but the older veteran riders made some astonishing moves. They were just killing it.

That's our lame-ass cell phone effort. Now check out the pics from a really good still photographer in a whole different universe from we pathetic amateurs, New Joisey's pcimprezzive, on YouTube:

The crowd got fired up too: "When I say 'Afro,' you say 'punk'!"
"Get your Brooklyn on! . . . Get your Obama on!"
"This is a movement. . . Peace and love!"

We were getting a little claustrophobic and afraid if we didn't move our feet, we'd be planted in the BAM parking lot for eternity, so we gingerly made our way through a crowd of - we don't know, thousands? - for a little more space in the area between the skate park and the bike track.

That gave us a pretty unobstructed, if distant, view of Saul Williams' vigorous, fast-paced yet thoughtful performance. He's an incredible showman. And like Janelle, whom he gave his love to, at one point, he dove into the crowd, mosh-pit style.

Saul came on in a Revolutionary War-style red military jacket with a long proclamation of names, including: Hughes, Baldwin, Ginsberg, Coltrane, Siddharta, Medusa, Robinson, Shakespeare, Rachmaninoff, Dickinson, Tesla, Fellini, Nostradamus, four little girls, Hiroshima, Marley, Shakur and more... ending with Michael Jackson.

Saul Williams' "Black Stacey" always takes our breath away. The crowd tonight went wild. It's both a powerful statement and first-rate entertainment.

During Saul Williams' performance, as night fell, some nimble kids climbed onto the skateboarding platform to get a better view.

We found his cover of U2's "Sunday Bloody Sunday" amazing from our distant perch, but you can see it here close up:

" . . . Now is the essence of my domain/ but it contains all that was and will be/ and i am as i was and will be/ because i am and always will be/ that nigga/ i am that nigga . . . "
"the future is you . . . "

Saul said it was good to be back in Brooklyn, "so many familiar faces, hello" and he introduced his son and gave a shout-out to his beautiful 80yo aunt on Euclid Avenue.

He thanked his band, whom we think were Davin Givahn, Kwame Brandt Pierce, Tchak Diallo. . . Our ears are 58 yo and we've been going to hear live music for over 40 years.

There was a call and response: Be somebody! Be somebody!

The energy in the crowd just grew stronger and stronger as Saul sang, did spoken-word, riffed. Before his finale, a really good rapper came on, someone we should know, whose name shamefully we couldn't catch. We were sort of blissing out anyway, even as festival-goers trying to get an early start filed out past us.

Blessings to everyone who made the fifth annual Afro-Punk Festival such a joy and such a community.

Hey, wife of Lot, don't look back. Tomorrow it turns back into a parking lot.

As Saul Williams said tonight, "Even death is a part of life . . even death is a part of life . . thank you, Michael."

Sunday Evening at BAM Afro-Punk Skate Park: Back at the Afro-Punk Festival w/ The Echo Jinx, The London Souls and Tamar-kali

We were lucky enough to catch another couple of hours of the Fifth Annual Afro-Punk Festival this evening and enjoyed more DIY fashion, BMX, URBANX Battle For The Streets - and today was the tribute to Spike Lee at BAM Cinematek, DJs and live music with The Echo Jinx and The London Souls and a stellar performance by the stunning
Tamar-kali.

After a late afternoon call that we were needed to represent Baby Boomers Born in Brownsville, we should have rushed right over to the BAM parking lot's Afro-Punk Skate Park. But hey, we're from the 'Ville - never ran, never will. Well, actually, we needed a nap. But we got there shortly after 6 p.m. with the newly extended G train.

Sunday's crowd was a bit larger than Saturday's. Again, it was a gorgeous day.

We made our way - gingerly - where the skateboarders were to the little stage where the announcers do their stuff. Nothing was going on at the main stage by Flatbush Avenue except setting up, and The Echo Jinx were performing on the smaller stage.

Guitarist Everton Armstrong and drummer Ivan Gonzalez have an interesting sound, an amalgam of semi-cartoonish pissed-off punk and arty experimentation with hints of Delta blues. We have no idea what we just said.

Anyway, we were impressed and took one of the drop cards at the end of the duo's spirited performance. Here's The Echo Jinx doing "Fast Sneakers":

We joined the growing crowd at the main stage where the MC introduced The London Souls by saying they reminded her of her days "with Janis and Jimi." (She also reminded the crowd to "keep it green and keep it clean.")

The Deli magazine said of them, "Few bands so young have any business brandishing the mighty musical chops that The London Souls do." The group, all from the city, consists of Tom Cumming (guitar, singer), Kiyoshi Matsuyama (bass, singer), Tash Neal (guitar, singer), and Chris St.Hillaire (drums, singer).

The crowd really loved them, and it's no wonder.

Here are The London Echoes performing "I Think I Like It" last fall at that wonderful venue, The Bowery Poetry Club:

After that, we watched the ups and downs and upside-downs of the bikers for a while.



There was growing excitement as Tamar-kali was introduced. If you've seen the Afro-Punk movie, you know her from there.

She's a truly extraordinary singer, with a powerful band to back her up. Her vocals are deep, raw and almost stentorian. Here she is performing the devastating "Warrior Bones" at last year's Afro-Punk Festival. The song begins with the stunning "I killed a man today. . ." and just never lets up.

Wow. We were really spellbound by her performance, which quickened our pulse to where we were ready for our Inderal.

If you can catch her in person someday, we think she's thrilling to watch as well as listen to. She has this thing where she looks skyward, her eyes seemingly calling down the wrath of God or Whoever. No surprise that she's a native of BK.

NPR said of Tamar-kali, "In her lyrics and her own personal style, she blends feminist politics and afrocentricity in a way that gives her hard rock sound a soulful edge." If you don't know Tamar-kali's work, what you don't know will hurt you.

At the end of her set, Tamar-kali asked the people seeing her for the first time to raise their hands. "Are you all right?" she asked us. "Do you feel violated?"

We were definitely all right. The only violation was that she had to get offstage.

Before we left, we watched more of the skaters and talked to a couple of them, who tried to explain the nature of various tricks and how good a sk8r like "Pretzel" is. He said something really profound: "You can't appreciate it like we do because you don't understand the skill it takes to make something so difficult look effortless."

We suspect that's true of the Afro-Punk Festival itself. The operation seems to go off perfectly, without a hitch, with great pleasure for every one of the attendees, but hours and hours of planning and just plain hard work must go into producing an amazing event like this every year. So we're very grateful for those who made the Afro-Punk Festival possible.

Saturday Night at BAM: The Fourth Annual Afro-Punk Festival Launch Party at Afro-Punk Skate Park

On Saturday evening we spent a few fun hours at the launch party of the fourth annual Afro-Punk Festival, held at Afro-Punk Skate Park -- the temporary site at the BAM parking lot at the triangle of Flatbush Avenue, Lafayette Avenue and Ashland Place, a place for which great plans have been made and abandoned. At least for these few days, it's a lot more exciting than the parking lot where in the waning days of the Nixon administration we HQ'ed our gold '73 Mercury Comet when we worked as a delivery boy for the around-the-corner Midtown Florist -- whose banner ads still grace the lot's south side fence.

Since 2005, the Festival has celebrated the music, film and fiercely independent individuals that are the lifeblood of the AP community. We entered just before 6 p.m., when the band onstage was nearing their last song, a rendition of the still-fresh "Purple Rain" just as a few people pulled out their umbrellas (and, yes, one lady's was indeed lavender) to ward off what was slightly more than a drizzle but which soon gave way to dry skies for the remainder of the night.

For a while we stood next to a tree on the narrow cobblestoned divider between the bike ramp and the wider eastern sk8er paradise with lots of ramps to challenge the boys (of all ages and ethnicities, but we saw only boys) who stood on a four-foot platform, looking as if they were contemplating the perks of being a wallflower before they took off with their boards to speed through the course and often the air.

During the evening we witnessed several near-collisions, one pretty good crash between a twentysomething white dude and a 9yo black kid which led to no injuries, and at least one 'frohawked teen back wrapping an ace bandage around his bleeding knees. But 99% of the skaters were just having fun.

(Courtesy Myrtle Shuffle, where Alice B. has other great pics up)

Meanwhile, Bulldog Mack -- Bulldog Bikes CEO James ("Jimmy Mac") McNeil, the man who brought BMX out of the 'burbs and into Bushwick -- did the calls from the stage as his crew of bikers performed stunts so amazing and scary that a couple of tough-looking guys near me covered their eyes with their hands, screamed and turned away as daredevils like Jai Rodridguez and Koolie (sp?) defied gravity with what looked like 15-foot leaps into the air.

Before last night, we never knew it was possible to b-boy on a bike but we definitely saw the equivalent of breakdancing as the bikers made mid-air moves so deft that old Evil Kneivel couldn't have imagined it. (And yeah, some bikers flew high over other bikers.)


The Apes, a guitarless garage rock foursome from D.C., took the stage, with one of their number in an orange wool face mask with a red hunting cap looking and sounding like a cross between Darth Vader and Subcomandante Marcos, only nerdish. But when they began to play, it proved to be a long-haired white girl, keyboardist Amanda Kleinman with her distinctive garage organ.

With Erick Jackson's burning bass and Jeff Schmid's bombastic drumming and vocalist Breck Brunson (mostly known to us as an imaginative visual artist) with a glassy tremolo, the quartet performed some wild-sounding numbers, varying from proto-metal to sci-fi-tinged new wave. They got the building crowd on the west side of the skate park, us included, moving pretty good.

We had to move next to the Atlantic Terminal for a bathroom break and a quick snack, and when we returned onstage was -- well, the word legend is tossed around too lightly, but onstage was the guy in the hip-hop history books back in da beginning in da Bronx when even we were youngsters -- Afrika Bambaataa, who along with Grandmaster Flash and DJ Kool Herc, comprised up the holy trinity of hip-hop.

With some of his Zulu Nation onstage with him, Afrika Bambaataa proved that he still knows how to put on the most amazing show with DJ skills honed over three decades. (You can catch him this very afternoon at Central Park's Summerstage!) Oooo baby, he makes it look as easy as 1,2,3, A,B,C.

When Afrika called for ladies to come onstage and dance, it took a few "Where they at?" prods -- and one frustrated "This ain't Connecticut, is it? Brooklyn is a bunch of dope people!" -- before a couple of young women got up and made a few nice moves.

Anyway, the legendary (yes) DJ had us signed, sealed and delivered all through his set. Thank you, Afrika Bambaataa, for kindly being yourself again.

James Spooner, the director of the film documentary Afro-punk, came onstage to thank Matthew Morgan and others, and to announce the films in conjunction with the Festival being presented by BAMCinematik, including the New York premiere of his own White Lies, Black Sheep.


On the Flatbush Ave. side of Afro-Punk Skate Park, we watched the artists with their paintbrushes and spray cans do their creative work on the mural project of the Trust Your Struggle Collective, a group of Bay Area- and NYC-based visual artists, educators and friends dedicated to social justice and community action through art.

Brooklyn's the start of their summer cross-country 2008 mural tour ending at the Galeria de La Raza San Francisco in late August. They'll be in the coolest of cities, including the Central Phoenix congressional district where Republican Richard Hussein Grayson is running in the Sept. 2 primary to represent Arizona in the U.S. House.

There was much else to see: the pimped-out black Toyota (a sponsor of the Festival) at the north entrance; the kids running around with light sabers; the table with the "Brooklyn for Barack" sign at which everyone over 18 who wasn't registered to vote, did; and the cool styles and outfits of nearly everyone but us in our old blue Brooklyn College T-shirt.

The standout performer we didn't know about before proved to be Miss Janelle Monáe, who made a diva-worthy entrance amid white smoke and strobe lights and stunned the now-packed-in crowd with her stunning music. The fireworks we'd seen from a couple of miles away the previous night paled in comparison.

As one right-on reviewer noted, not only does she have that
undefinable "it" quality that stars are made of, she also serves up a fresh, genre-blurring style that people are craving right now. She's is like James Brown, Judy Garland, Elvis Presley, Michael Jackson and Andre 3000 rolled into one, and seeing that all play out live on stage is thrilling.

Amen. Janelle sang a surprisingly old-school rendition of "Smile" ("Smile though your heart is breaking") that had us in tears and would have had our grandmothers in tears too, if we could have brought them back to Brooklyn last night. Diddy knows what he's doing with Janelle Monáe, and if we'd had one of those "Imagination Inspires Nation" posters some in the crowd waved, we'd have been waving them too.

But after Janelle's fabulous encore, it was after 9 p.m. and deep fatigue was setting in our arms and the rest of us, as we'd gotten home far too late on Friday night -- well, Saturday morning -- from the delightful July 4th fireworks party at the Cadman Plaza highrise apartment of our good friend, the author/psychologist Susan O'Doherty (Getting Unstuck Without Coming Unglued: A Woman's Guide to Unblocking Creativity; advice columnist at the blog Buzz, Balls and Hype). So we reluctantly gave into our need for sleep and left the launch party early, not even daring to think about attending the afterparty right near Dumbo Books HQ in Williamsburg. We were taking the G to our bed instead.

But the Fourth Annual Afro-Punk Festival is going on until July 13, and if you were unlucky enough to miss last night's party, you can check out their schedule and catch some films, music, etc., which is bound to be worth seeing. We'll be back for more, too. Isn't life wonderful!