There is a light, and it never goes out.

January is the “Monday” of every year. A lot of people don’t like Mondays, but I’m okay with them. They draw so much attention on approach, when they loom on the horizon of a dying weekend. You can see them coming, which creates a sense of anticipation and that usually creates a little buzz of adrenaline. I’m ready for Mondays. Tuesdays can get fucked, but Mondays aren’t so bad.

January can feel like a bit of a letdown coming off the high of the holiday season. Shoutout to all my Capricorns, but if your birthday is early in the month, no one really cares. We all just blew our loads at Christmas and came back for another round with New Year’s. No one has the desire to celebrate you so soon after. They don’t even want to cuddle. I don’t think the Capricorns who have birthdays before Christmas experience this phenomenon. The Christmas Spirit is still in people’s system. They’re high off of that shit.

I have an early January birthday, so historically my birthday has been a bit more of a muted event. One hundred percent of that low-key sentiment about the birthday had settled into the routine when I was a kid, and my mom (a single parent back then) opted to make it a small affair. Something is better than nothing, and at least those quiet birthdays were celebrated at all. I was lucky, and in the end, it conditioned me to enjoy the small birthday celebrations I like to have. It’s a blessing to be another year older. No doubt.

GZA

Shoutout to the GZA for still knowing how to rock a crowd after 35 years in the game. I may be in my 40s, but I’m not too old to head out to a show on a work night. Especially if the artist I want to see is pushing 60. If he can be up on a stage doing his thing for an hour plus, then I can stand there and watch him. It helped that the venue wasn’t far. The Genius was out at the Glasshouse in Pomona mid-month, performing his legendary debut album, Liquid Swords, in celebration of its 30th anniversary. Yes, my dude. Thirty years. 1995 is practically ancient history. The world can be a cruel place.

GZA’s set was excellent but not flawless. He missed a few lines here and there, but GZA is a deft MC and flipped it back onto the crowd to chant. He was joined on stage by the Phunky Nomads. These fellow New Yorkers served as GZA’s band. No disrespect to DJs and what they have done for the culture. There wouldn’t be hip-hop without ‘em, but I love it when MCs have a live band playing their shit. They bring an element of spontaneity in the sound and performance that a DJ can’t. With the Nomads being funky, GZA ran through about every song on Liquid Swords. He didn’t play “B.I.B.L.E.”, but he made up for it by running through some tracks off his other solos, a couple off Grandmasters (his collab with DJ Muggs), and even a few Wu-Tang tracks: “Clan In Da Front”, “Reunited”, and “The Monument” (a random selection).  The Genius repped Wu to the fullest.

His opener was as local powerviolence band from L.A. called ZULU. They pummeled the crowd with some heavy hardcore and left an indelible imprint on me. I hope they get a bit of shine.

For those of us who enjoy seeing live music, I prefer my shows in a more intimate setting. The arena shit can absolutely be epic, and some bands might be better on a bigger stage, with elaborate productions to enhance their sound and maximize the audience’s experience. That’s cool, but give me a venue, like the Glasshouse, and let’s get it cracking. I hope to catch a couple more shows there this year.

Paula Tix

In an ironic twist, President Trump’s inauguration took place on the MLK holiday. It would happen like that in this circumstance, wouldn’t it? As we return to an era of absolute egocentrism, explicit hate, and pompous braggadocio, please take a moment to stop and think about how little our politicians truly care about you. They care about votes and placate voters. Then, they abandon their supporters and blame it on the other side, no matter which side is running the show. Big pharma. Big tobacco. Big tech. Big oil. Big deal. This is the WWE with suits and soapboxes. Me, the actual human being sitting at his computer and typing these sentences, and you, the real person reading this slop (thank you!) mean nothing to them. Say it out loud to yourself. “I. Mean. Nothing. To. Them.” Everyday people like you and me, we are just their play things. We are their investment dollars. So, why cape up for your favorite politician? Why trust any of them?

Neighborly

I’ll wrap this up with a PSA. Be kind to your neighbors, and mind your own business. It takes less energy to ignore something you don’t like than to make an ass of yourself trying to “fix” a problem that doesn’t exist.

Why so cryptic, Nick?

Peep my latest SNS and get more than the gist.