Melodic Stability

My dad confiscated my Busta Rhymes Extinction Level Event album because it had too much cussing. When this album was released, I was barley ten years old. F-Bombs were being dropped all over the place. But the production on the album was incredible, the beats were just too hard. Back in 1998, HMV and other shops were the places to go to buy music. It came on physical formats, CDs and cassettes. Yes, cassettes! I used to go to Our Price to buy my singles on tape. 49p for the cassette and 99p for the CD. Keep in mind, back then a parental advisory sticker didn't mean much at that time either. I had other rap albums like: Nas's "Illmatic" and Lil' Kim's "Hardcore". Both, rap classics which my dad bought for me. On Hardcore, Kim describes having oral sex performed on her. Erm. Excuse me Dad, you also bought me R. Kelly's 12 Play and R. albums. It's ok for me to listen to R. Kelly begging someone to sex him and going half on a baby. But, I can't hear Busta ask to give him some more?! Around this time, R. Kelly was already outed for marrying a minor and a pending lawsuit was well on its way where he allegedly had sex with a minor. But still no, I can't listen to Busta? You had options Pops. Buy the censored albums or, listen to the albums before you give them to me. It confused me though because some of the albums he gave me, he already had in his music library. Granted, Lil' Kim wasn't really my Dad's taste and there is a high chance he had no idea of the vulgarity of her lyrics. Even still, I was furious! Not because he confiscated the album, but because he did it in front of my cousins. Plus, that has to be one of rap's defining albums of the late 90's. It was already a classic! Tears of anger flooded my face. You embarrassed me, for no reason. My cousins and I were playing video games and you just swoop in and take my CD! I was murdering every contestant that came my way in Mortal Kombat after this. My anger seeped through every pour of my body. My cousin Gaz was trying to console me with anecdotes of embarrassing things his dad had done to him. It didn't matter what he said, it wasn't working. I defied my dad. I saved up my lunch money that he was giving me and bought back the album. I didn't even hide it. I placed it back in my CD rack. My dad would visit my brother and me quite regularly. He would look through my library, organised in alphabetical order by artist and release date. That's how deep my love of music was. I was willing to endue injury and possible death just to get my hands on the sweet melodies and explicit lyrics. It's an art form! Don't try to censor me or what I'm listening to, when you opened the door to it.

During secondary school from Year 10, we were allowed to leave the premisses for lunch. I would take the opportunity to go to the Black Market. It was called this because it contained goods originating from the Caribbean countries. It was not a place to purchase off market illegal items or to hire a hit on your enemy. At least, I wasn't privy to any of that. Mainly, it would be food items and hair products. It also meant there was a music shop which housed solely R'n'B, Rap, Hip-hop and Gospel music. It was my sanctuary! If my mum was going to Lewisham, I would go with her. She'd be out doing her business and I'd be in the CD shop listening to album after album. My mum would complete her errands and I'd still be in the shop. Once I got a job, I'd spend the majority of my wages on music. This sometimes racked up to £70/80 a visit. I had to limit my spending, otherwise I'd be in financial debt and run out of space to house them. My Nana would be so furious with me, she'd say "Why the bloody hell do you keep buying that racket? The flaming songs all sound the same and it's a waste of bloody money". My Nana is cockney but she can cook you up some curry goat and rice in a jiffy. I'd 'tsk' at her and playfully role my eyes, putting my headphones in. During lunch at school, I'd have an hour to run to Lewisham, pick up my music, some food, and get back to school. This sounds simple, but it wasn't. I had to be poised and ready to bolt out of the gates the second the buzzer rang. Run to the bus stop, catch the 261 bus and pray for no traffic. Jump off outside Game, run into Morph's Music, pick up the album I wanted, and jump back on the bus for school. I was in Business Studies class one morning. I was talking to the teacher about Jill Scott's new album: Beautifully Human. Everyone was still buzzing off the debut, high expectations were held for the sophomore effort. I told my teacher the plan to get one during lunch, I was asked to get a copy for them too. Going to Lewisham was straightforward, quick and uneventful, getting back however was a different story. After I had picked up two copies of the album, jumped on the bus back to school. Some boys from the neighbouring school started opening the emergency hatch on the bus. The bus driver kept stopping and shutting off the engine, having the bus standing at bus stops until the boys stopped. Other passengers were getting annoyed. I was getting fretful because if I was late, I was going to get forty minutes detention. They caused such a raucous the bus driver told everyone to get off the bus. Luckily for me, this was outside my school. I was five minutes late and ended up having a forty minute detention. The detention teacher that night was my Business Study teacher.

I had made that journey tens of times, sometimes making it back well within time. Other times, with seconds to spare. The later years in secondary school were the times I realised that change was going to happen for me every two to three years. College and University being the major milestones. Through it all though music has been the thing to keep me sane. It has been the most successful coping mechanism. I feel guilty spending money on myself and I'm often too generous spending it on others. But, for music, I'll spend quite frivolously and receive no pangs of guilt. Only joy.

During my early teens, MP3 players were about but it was about having a jog proof CD walkman. I had a Goodmans FM radio CD walkman. It was as thick as two bricks and not jog proof. It was like carrying a bowl of soup filled to brim, walking carefully not to spill a single drop. The checklist for school was as follows:

• Afro Comb x2 (one would always get confiscated for some health and safety nonsense).

• Cassette or CD Walkman.

• Sony headphones (the ones that had mega bass).

• 6 Pack of AA batteries (bought weekly with dinner money).

• Emergency rechargeable AA batteries.

• 2 mixtapes or 8 CD albums

• Diary.

• Exercise books for class.

• Bible (I went to a Church of England school. If you didn't have this on a random spot check it was twenty lines).

This was my sanity survival pack and I weighed a ton! Imagine, I had two inside pockets on my blazer. Each pocket would house four CD albums each, CD walkman would be in the outside pocket, one afro comb placed in dome shaped head, spare one in the other outside blazer pocket and bible placed in top outside pocket. My blazer was a bullet proof vest; I didn't need teflon. Armed and ready with a mouthful of braces, come at me world! To top it off, I wasn't allowed to take my Walkman outside the house. My mum would go ape and sod's law, we used to leave the house at the same time in the morning. I'd have to hide it all, then once I got on the packed bus, wire up so that once I got to school I could dismantle and not get any of it confiscated. Effort right? It was worth it! To hear Jill Scott singing about needing someone, not just to kill the spider under her bed, or to stain and polyurethane, but to help raise her child to be a man. That's deep! To be in awe of D'angelo's genius on "How Does it Feel?". Over seven minutes and ten seconds, the song builds to a anti climax. Set with a 3/4 time signature, the high hat beats 3 times per bar. Bass drum kick once every other bar. Snare snap, once every other bar. His voice gently gracing the piano, gradually gaining more rasp, more volume, reaching an intense falsetto, vocal harmonies get more complex adding depth, the snare reverb now has an echoing snap, the electric guitar gains distortion. All at once, all of this syncopated noise exists and then it stops.

Listening to music makes me so happy, I beam! It's the one thing in this world where I can guarantee the emotion I will feel. To be in control of that feeling, gives me back Aaron. I am allowed to be myself when tunes are playing. Daily, my moods will swing violently and it's exhausting. Music helps to minimise that swing, it reenergises me, slowing the pendulum. My world is fraught with so much emotional uncertainty, music is the reintroduction of stability. It's my universal assault weapon, when I'm sad, angry, upset or frustrated, it conquers them all, with ease! Even if I don't like the song or genre, I escape into it. It's almost like I become the track I'm listening to. I feel the lyrics, I get goosebumps, the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. I need to hear it all over again. Every time I replay my favourite songs, I hear new things. Ad libs, new instruments, that lyric I couldn't quite make out, or the backing track playing through the headphones when the artist is in the booth recording. Sometimes, if you listen close enough, you can hear parts of the track that were recorded analog and digitally. I close my eyes and focus on the song, it becomes my environment. I can make out the soft, analog hiss mixed with the sharp, clean, white noise digital recordings give. One particular track I can hear this on is Toni Braxton's "Just Be A Man About It". I pay close attention to the instruments used in songs, how they were played, read about who produced it in the album inlay, where it was recorded, who arranged it. JAY Z's "somewhereinamerica" is that example for me. It starts off with a sample of Jimmy Norman's "Gangsta of Lovel", an uptempo jazz/northern soul record; tambourines and trumpet at the ready. The groove is in play and I can already picture a sepia, 3 piece suit wearing 1950's America. This plays with drums in the background. Then, a contemporary piano arrangement escorts the first verse in. The two shouldn't work together as there are three styles of music at play here; Rap/hip-hop, Jazz and R'n'B. Although each style borrows from one another, it can be difficult to fuse the fundamentals of all the styles without it sounding like chaos. Yet, the essential characteristics of each style is displayed minimally, together making a diverse, versatile rap record. Music is art, it's my expression of how I'm feeling or how I want to feel. It's cathartic and my escapism. I communicated on MSN and AIM messenger the music I was listening to as my status. My friends would ask me send them the track because I'd always listen to the deep cuts or the B-sides.

I used to make mixtapes, and there's an art form to making an epic tape. It's about what songs you put on the tape and the arrangement. Tapes came in three running lengths. 120 minutes tapes were too long, you end up using filler songs to elapse the time. 60 minute tapes were good for gym workouts, short and snappy. 90 minute tapes were the holy grail. Long enough for a good car journey but not too long you start fast forwarding tracks. I used to title my tapes, my crowning glory mixtape was called: Temptations. My cousin Kris's ex girlfriend Nia used to get her hair dressed by mother every week. She asked me to make a her tape but it had to have Jagged Edge's "Promise" recorded on it. I set to work as she was getting her hair done. Three hours later, the tape was done. Over ear headphones donned, CD's scattered all over the floor; inlays everywhere. My cousin Olivia was staying with us, I even borrowed her CDs to contribute to this tape. The track listing written out on the back, all stickers applied to the tape, recording tab broken to prevent accidental erasure. It was complete. I handed it to her once her hair was done. She was shocked I had done it so quick. Nia said jokingly "It better be good". I said confidently, "It is, see you next week". One week later Nia walked in with her friend. The first thing her friend said was: " Can you make me a tape please but this time with Lauyrn Hill's Ex-Factor?". Nia remarked, "He needs to make version two of mine first". I started charging for mixtapes after this point.