Saying Goodbye Again; My Inner Superhero

This week has been a really trying one for meows truly.

Two years ago, on October 3rd, my maternal aunt, Caroline, died of cancer. Last week, I buried my other maternal aunt, Constance…who also succumbed to cancer—uterine this time. I’ve never had to help plan a funeral before, and needless to say it was emotionally trying. It was also exhausting in that we had to see that her affairs were in order; thankfully, her legal affairs and whatnot were (unlike with my other aunt), but cancelling subscriptions, alerting people, and all the other arrangements can indeed take a toll. Dealing with the harsh reality that someone who helped mold you in your early years more than you realised is no longer here…that’s a bit much. And, every death in my immediate family makes me brood on my own mortality, but this hit home even more so due to my abnormal-cells scare.

 Also… this leaves my mother, the baby of four children, as the last of her siblings. That, for some reason, breaks my heart. My mother and I haven’t always had the easiest relationship, but I cannot bear that she is the only one left. I have resolved to be there for her more than I have been henceforth. So that is why I’ve barely left my mother’s side for the last few days.

I wrote my aunt’s obituary, and as I was doing that, I remembered all sorts of things that we’d done together when I was a Gatita. She passed along to me the love of musicals, crafting, baking, and got me interested in knitting, sewing, and crocheting. She taught me to appreciate gardening, lavender, and tulips—so much so I insisted on having the latter in her floral arrangements.

I realised that, even though we’d stopped being close in my tweenage years (that is a weird phenomenon in the Closson family; do not ask me why), I really missed those times, and I really missed my Aunt Sissy. I also resolved that I would again take up sewing and knitting, and I would buy tulips every year in her honour. I will also teach my Grrl Cub all about “The Sound of Music” and “The King and I”, which shouldn’t be hard, since she loves singing and dancing.

Even in her last days, she joked… it seemed that she’d begun displaying this wry sense of humour I hadn’t seen in a very long time, telling me that if I was gonna sit and visit her at the nursing home, I was gonna have to deal with “this ugly noise”—she was in considerable pain despite the meds, and moaned a fair bit. She asked me to hold her hand and gently ribbed me about “not rubbing it enough”. From what I understand, all she really wanted at night was for someone to hold her hand whilst she fell asleep. I wish I had been there to do it that one last time.

Okay, now that I have feels all over my feet…I’m gonna add some more.

The last week has also been spent clearing out my aunt’s apartment. I mean, it was a lot of stuff, but not a lot of heavy furniture, thank goodness. We cleared out books, clothes, all sorts of stuff. We finally finished yesterday.

On our way to her apartment, I was riding in the car with my mother, my boyfriend, Peace, and my cousin, Robert. We got to the section of Avon Avenue and Springfield Avenue at the Newark/Irvington border, and Peace spotted a little girl crying and told us, “Whoa—there’s a little girl on the corner by herself crying, and nobody’s around her!” I look around and see the little girl and my heart died. She was hysterical. My mother stopped the car and Peace and Robert got out to get a better look.

 “Oh, my God—her mother’s on the ground!” I was already fumbling with my seat belt and on my way out of the car before I got it off good, praying that this woman hadn’t been shot to death on some street corner in front of her child. My mother was going to turn the car around but I didn’t want to wait.

So, we all ran over there, and it was lucky Peace and Robert even saw the mom because the weeds were so thick between the curb and the sidewalk that you couldn’t see her at first glance. We didn’t want to move the mom, as she was facedown on the pavement and I was horrified something really awful had happened to her. I looked at the little girl and thought of my own daughter, and of myself when I was small, and I said to her, “Will you come to me?” She nodded, and came to me so I could pick her up.

 I asked her what happened, and she said, “My mami fell.” I told her I was sorry to hear that. I asked her name; she told me, and I told her mine. She told me how old she was—just three. She wasn’t able to tell her address, so I just told her that everything was going to be okay, and that we’d get help for her mother.

Peace, meanwhile, had called 911, and Robert was trying to keep the mother, who had begun stirring, from getting up. I talked to her, too. I asked, “Ma’am? Are you okay?” She didn’t answer, but looked at me blankly. She couldn’t talk, it seemed. So I told her we were getting help and not to move, but she seemed intent on trying to sit up after awhile, and there was no stopping her. So Robert tried propping her up so she wouldn’t fall again.

A Newark bluecoat came down the avenue in his black-and-white, so my mother and I flagged him down and started telling him about what we’d seen, and he called it in to Irvington Police. He’d told us he saw her standing by a nearby fence earlier with her daughter. He said he was glad he drove back through, and that we saw the little girl.

The mother seemed to come around slowly, and asked where her daughter was. I said, “I’ve got her; don’t worry. She’s safe.” The mother said, “Thank you.” I told her: “No worries—I have a daughter too.”

Soon after that, an ambulance or three arrived—the first being the small type. Irvington Police had also arrived, and a lady officer came over, and we all explained what we’d seen and heard, and made sure the mother was safely in the ambulance. The officer asked the EMTs about the little girl, and they seemed at a loss. I said to the girl, “Do you want to go with the nice officer, so she can take you to your mami?” The poor girl looked me in the eye and shook her head.

“I want to stay with you,” she said.

OMGGGGGGGGGGGGGG I GAGGED

I almost fell apart right in front of her, bouncing her on my hip. I didn’t know what the hell to do then! It took some coaxing, but we got her to go with the officer, and I asked my mother to give her a stuffed toy from the back of her car. We did, and we said goodbye, and left my card with the officer, asking her to give it to the mother in case she wanted to call or anything.

And THEN I cried, hee.

I really hope the mom was okay. We were really scared for her and her daughter—Peace and I, for sure, cuz we’re too damned sensitive to stuff like this. But my cousin said he thought maybe the mom had a seizure; he remembered what it was like when our grandfather had them and how his mannerisms were when he’d come out of it. I’m still hoping that the mom will call, if but to tell us how she’s doing. That’s all I’m really worried about. We’re still worried as I write this. I can only pray she and her sweet little girl are both fine.

On Being An Alternative Hip-Hop Artist...and its Pitfalls

WARNING: THIS IS ANOTHER POPCORN ENTRY. So get comfy and grab some.

I might just join you as I write this.

I met a person of station awhile back who tried to clown me a bit because I said I was an alt. hip-hop artist. Challenged me, in a sort of condescending tone, to explain.

I did, and he basically "corrected" me and told me I am what is called "underground". I told him that there are many underground hip-hop artists that would disagree vehemently with that assessment. I've even been told as much by a respected so-called underground hip-hop "tastemaker", that my stuff is not underground.

Yes, I may actually BE under the radar, if we used the term "underground" in that sense, but I am still alternative, in the sense that what I'm doing is not what you would expect from hip-hop when you first hear that that is my genre of choice. There are artists under the radar with me that are doing exactly what one would expect of hip-hop, creatively. That ain't me.

I've also been called a pop artist, which, frankly, I am sick to death of.

I know pop really is supposed to mean "popular"--which isn't a bad thing in and of itself, being popular-- but in this day and age, for someone who strives to be authentic to who they are, it also means "death sentence", "disposable" and "dismissable", and I don't wish to own being any of those things, no matter what bent my sound might take in its journey.

People have a tendency to just kind of shove things in a box when they don't understand it, and more often than not, the box they shove you in is wrong. Because you can dance to the majority of GATA City, you would think that I'd be shoved in the dance category, but since people think of EDM/EBM, dubstep and the like when you say, "dance", I am demoted to pop. I also get told a lot that I don't belong here, I belong "Overseas" where I would "do much better", as if Overseas is one big land that will solve all my problems like it's the Emerald City.
And I know there's the typical/not-so-typical-but-accepted-cuz-they're-conscious hip-hop brethren, sistren, and cousins of mine who would look down their nose at me, side-eye me, or tell me, "That's cute, sis" and give me a virtual pat on the head, but go on and on about how ill certain mainstream female rappers are when I know I could run circles around some of them lyrically.

I won't pretend to make myself bigger than what I am; I won't even sit here and say I'm at-par with some of the other unrecognised ladies under the radar with me. There are so many down here that I've heard, been introduced to, or whatever...some, I've even been called upon to emulate, but my days of emulating anyone have been far behind me for years. I will, however, tell you that I know I deserve a fair shot at being taken seriously and listened to.

Talking of "listened to"... that's also another pitfall that comes not so much with being alternative, but just being a hip-hop artist-- NOT being listened to.

For example: there is an event that Newark is trying to do called Better Block Newark, and they were looking for people to get involved. Someone on its organisation team had somehow gotten hold of my email address and was sending me so much mail about it. So, naturally, I submitted myself... and got no response for a month, save for more email about volunteering.

When I did get a response, this is what met me (and two other people on his staff the sender sent to via CC):

Thank you very much for your interest in supporting our efforts in hosting Better Block Bergen. Unfortunately, the intention of the event is to provide family friendly entertainment for this celebration. Otherwise, we would surely be provide the platform to present your work. I'm sure it will be a great occasion and welcome you to contact my colleague Perris for an opportunity to setup a vendor table. 

Again, please accept our regrets. We hope that you still choose to support Better Block Newark as we intend to expand the initiative and need all the support from entrepreneurs/residents like yourself.


Mind you, I was asking about performing, but they're talking about selling at a table.

I replied, pointing out that my stuff is mainly profanity-free, and is indeed family-friendly--that in fact, I had been complimented by parents on that very thing (and sometimes, even shunned for it by others, but I digress). I mean, I wouldn't have been booked at family-oriented block parties if it wasn't, would I? But, I get this back:

I appreciate your cooperation and I must insist if you have materials or goods you would like to share and/or sell during the event we can surely provide space and a table to do so.

I did notice the lack of profanity and such in your performance and I commend that. Please continue to support the event and we can work to better curate the next event's programming to potentially include your stage set.

Huh. Okay, so, basically, "Get a vendor table and be happy. If you play ball, perhaps we'll let you do your li'l thing. but not now."
When I brought it to the attention of friends and GNOtaku, they thought that the "family-friendly" bit was a joke, with at least one friend surmising this:

Oddly enough, Peace had said that very same thing right before she posted that!
I'm pretty sure that they didn't bother to listen, just saw the words "hip-hop" and ran the other way. And for them to sit and say they "noticed the lack of profanity and such" when I could tell they didn't listen was insulting. If they had listened, pointing out that they were looking for "family friendly" entertainment wouldn't have been an issue.

I bet, though, that they'll have a local dance team that either a) has little girls doing inappropriate choreography but excused as cute (and wearing tutus...which didn't really start much here until after Fashion Is Art) or b) is using music that wasn't pre-approved and ends up full of curses and suggestive themes.

Why?

Because that's what's acceptable around here in the Brix. And it's acceptable because it's what they know.

Someone always tells me to look for ops in my own area; music blogs always suggest becoming a thing in your hometown first. Well, this is what happens when I attempt to do that...unless I meet someone like the true owner of Majesty Loft or someone else willing to take a chance on the weird girl in the cat ears. I'm mostly ignored (not even an email saying "no") by anything you'd think I'd be welcome to perform at in Newark--including Newark Gay Pride, if you can believe that. Newark is nothing if not afraid of new or different, and I think it is time that I truly accepted that and looked for gigs elsewhere, or make my own. Then show up at theirs anyway in full Nyan Regalia, like: "AND WHAT...?"

Which leads me to...addressing this past week's incident involving the "different".

For years, I have been trying to get involved in Afropunk somehow, due to the many suggestions of others (sent press releases, joined featured bands group), only to be mostly ignored, and I think a lot of well-placed badmouthing by certain individuals killed that to begin with. But, being somewhat undaunted and willing to believe that perhaps I might be mistaken, I entered the Battle of the Bands voting competition after much encouragement.
Days later, I received this:

We see some suspicious behavior for your entry, as it receives runs of repeat votes from the same or a series of closely related IP addresses.

166 votes come from duplicate IP addresses.

As this is evidence of cheating, we regret to inform you that your entry will be disqualified immediately.

Okay. Here is the math on the voting process:
--It is a single click voting platform.
--You must vote through Facebook.
--It will not let you vote twice from a single IP address.

And yet...I cheated, and was disqualified. Yup.

Of course, this brought cries of outrage from my friends/GNOtaku. Some thought "sabotage", some thought that they could have just discounted the duplicates, since there seemed to be trouble voting from phones and devices--a lot of people complained that they weren't sure their vote had even gone through. "With this knowledge," one said, "surely a malicious person could systematically get everyone disqualified, except the one they want to win!" And most agreed with that assessment. But I just chalked it up to Mercury Retrograde and the former badmouthing taking its toll.

Ironically, I didn't even enter to win, just get involved in something of theirs IN SPITE of them...and get noticed by their audience. I wasn't even as upset as I should have been about being accused of cheating.

What I was upset about--which I figured out after some reflection...was that here was yet another place where several people have told me I "belonged"...and it was very clear that they still don't think so...for whatever reason.

I can't begin to tell you how many people have said "Oh, you need to join Afropunk, do their shows, get featured!" Anyone from a music business mentor of mine to the graphic designer of my CD art: "Afropunk is for you!" 

No...no, apparently, it's not.
And that has been sorrowfully driven home by this final nail in the coffin.

So, let's count the places I've been told I should belong and apparently don't: my city, the culture as a whole ("you're a pop artist"), America ("go Overseas!"), Afropunk, and let's not forget Hip-Hop Sisters Artistry, who apparently thought there is only one kind of female hip-hop. (Yup--ignored by them, too.)

This shxt makes you want to run away from home sometimes, LOL. Join the circus. I did actually joke in a Facebook status about buying a town like Kim Basinger did and establishing it for those of us who fit nowhere else.

But...I was reminded (thank you for finally being useful, Mercury Retrograde, you cankerous whore) of something I once told a young strangeling-in-the-making when he came in from outside play, disgusted that the other kids didn't want to play with him at all after they decided they wanted to play tag after he said he'd wanted to still play ball, and decided to confess to me.

"Do you still want to play ball?" I asked him.
"Yes."
"Then be proud that your vision of playing ball-- doing something you want to is strong enough to survive what everyone else thinks you should do. They might not want to play with you now, but they might later; someone might. Always feel proud that you chose what you really wanted."

So...I will reflect on that years-old piece of advice I gave my eldest cub, and take it myself and let it nurture me. They might not want to play with me now...but...someone eventually might.

25-Day Song Challenge--DAY 3

Day 3: A song that reminds you of one/both of your parents.

Also hard... but I think I got at least one.

This song reminds me of my dad because, well, he's mentioned in it. You see, my dad, he grew up with George Clinton. They were on the same label; my dad was in a group called The Supremes; George with The Parliaments. They always had this rivalry/acknowledgement thing going on where they would reference each other. This song contains a reference to my dad by George, and so I pick this :

Flash Light--Parliament.

Random Pic: Fashionmusicality

There was an event called Fashionmusicality done by Majesty Loft, a great place in Newark that I've mentioned before. The City of Newark had left it to the Loft's owners to handle this new and different addition to their annual African-American Heritage Festival. Everything seemed like it was going swimmingly, and we took promo shots for the showcase. Below is one of those shots that didn't get used (as far as I know).

Photo Credit: Orikl As-Salaam

I'm not even gonna get into how odd this shoot was for me. I think I freaked the guys on the right out. It was fun, though.

Unfortunately, Fashionmusicality was fraught with challenges, and not everyone got to perform as scheduled. I firmly believe this was because of sabotage, owing to the fact that some probably didn't want it to be successful, and I'm not the only one who saw it that way.

Months later, their Second Annual House Music Festival goes on seemingly without incident. Which just figures: Newark loves its house, because that is familiar to them. God forbid something different should happen around here.

Random Pic of the...Whenever

...since it seems I can't be consistent with this shxt!
I recently did a short local gig at a place called Majesty Loft. They had a small fashion event called Cat Fight (how apropos), and asked me to do a few ditties...
I like this one because it really captures both the intimacy and the energy of the place and what we did there. Catherine is a damned good photographer.
Till next time, GNOtaku.

Photo Credit: Catherine Payne

"Paperdollz" In Depth....

 If you've heard GATA City, or used the neat little download doohicky at the side of the blog there, or received a download card from me in the street, you've heard the song, "Paperdollz". If not, I'll post it here so you can check it out...I'll wait.

So far, it's looking to be my lead single because it's the one getting all the attention.
I've been doing a lot of thinking about it because it is something personal, and I realise some people might take it the wrong way. So I wanted to post a blog on it.

Admittedly, the song is semi-autobiographical in that I have actually experienced some of the feelings I express in the lyrics (and in the interlude proceeding it on the cd)...but I haven't had the problem of being almost compleatly ignored over some porn goddess. (Thank GOD.) I used the extremes to illustrate and convey the feelings a little more hardcore. Who knows? Maybe there is a girl out there who HAS gone through this exact thing. I just happened to feel strongly enough about this subject to write about it; after all, this is the very bedrock of songwriting.

The song is NOT about dissing the lovely ladies of the porn industry, that's for sure. I couldn't, in good conscience, really do that, being that I WAS a Paperdoll myself for one brief moment. It would be hypocritical! For all I know, there was some guy out there obsessed w/some picture I took, and his girlfriend was going off on him about it. Why would be beyond me, as the pictures were, for the most part, very tasteful for that kind of mag, even cheesy...and we know people like their hardcore shxt!-- but I digress.

The song IS about a dysfunctional relationship, in that the guy in it clearly has an addiction to porn to the point his girlfriend isn't enough for him anymore, and he ignores her 99 per cent of the time. She's unhappy, and she warns him, "You gon' get left with them paperdollz". She's at her wits' end, but still willing to play ball if he is. Whether he does or not remains to be seen.

Some of the descriptions of the girls in print might be taken as inflammatory --"cookie-cutter", referring to said girls as "that" as opposed to "her/them", pointing out their "fake boobs" and "big booty"-- you get the idea. Remember: this is from the POV of an obviously frustrated, neglected woman, who's feeling just a wee bit insecure about her partner's infatuation. She even tries to tell him, "I get it"-- even going so far as to suggest his indulging in his porno fantasies helps their relationship by keeping him faithful ("mainlining those'll/keep you home, I suppose"). The problem lies in him not paying any attention to her whatsoever, and she feels she can't compete even though she is a flesh-and-blood woman.

My own feelings are coming out in that I do take issue with the majority of these girls looking the same...P/shopped to the point their bodies are almost identical: same skin, same boobs...definitely the same big ass, LOL. It's insane. It also kills me that if a girl has that look in real life, the men will complain about the very enhancements that made them buy the magazines and movies in the first place....and then complain they want a "real" girl. Ri-i-i-ght...no pressure there.

The real message is that anyone--not just guys, but women too-- need to appreciate the person in their life and not take them for granted, favouring things that are not real over someone who is. A magazine is just ink, metal, and paper. A flick or an online site is just pixels on a screen. It's two-dimensional. And in the end, your partner is right there, and that image is NOT.

This even extends to the strippers/exotic dancers at the club. They are there to get their money. They are there to entertain you and do their job... up to and including being friendly (in some cases, EXTRA friendly) with you. It doesn't mean they wanna bear your kids or give you any, even. They might not be 2-D, but they usually aren't a part of your life outside of that club or that bachelor/bachelorette party or whatever. They are real people, but they aren't your real relationship. They sell you fantasy.

THAT is what the song is about.

 So, no...it's not an animosity thing. Trust me.

Why was I a Paperdoll, you ask? Simple.

"I was young. I needed the money." 

Who CARES?

I had my own reasons. Besides-- I don't think I'm the first femcee or artist who did this at one time in their life. It was one mag, a loooooooooooooong time ago. Anything I've done since was either pin-up or fetish modelling.

And...trust me on this: the feature sucked because a) it wasn't real and b) my hair was a wreck. Ugh. I have better pics with my kit off in my possession that are waaaay better, LOL.

Random Weekly Pic....9-5-11

Fxck-- I'm so bad with these. I'm super late, LOL
Well, I'll put up three again...

Those are all random shots of our pre-Irene performance at the Palm Street Block Association's annual block party. It was raining like crazy most of the day, but they are hardcore about their block parties, LOL

Review Of GATA City/Interview by Praxilla

ThaGataNegrra- GATA City
Label: 3 Miles Entertainment
Release: 8-24-2011
Review Author: Praxilla

In the present tense, it would seem as if a heroine can seldom be found within the realms of Pop music. By Pop music, I am talking about music that is dominated by a sensual female voice and the contemporary beats accompanying …not simply music which has dominated the airwaves because of its popularity on the mainstream circuit. At least in comparison with its reincarnations in past decades and the female performers who helped to shape the genre then, the new wave of female-fronted pop music has descended from a status of undeniably venerable to almost passable. Nowadays, a great majority of pop music is an indecipherable heap of uninspired radio-friendly tunes and watered down experiences, which emphasizes the baser sides of femininity; favoring materialism dressed up as strength, confidence, and self-dependence.

In the recent past, however, the genre has seen classic songs such as TLC’s “Unpretty”, which digressed feelings of self acceptance of inner beauty, and their equally praiseworthy “No Scrubs”, which emphasized the female empowerment of not letting any man, especially one that is disrespectful and without aspiration, into one’s life. Pop music has also seen the likes of Jennifer Lopez, who boasted favoring honesty and truth in a relationship in songs such as “If You Had My Love”. Pink’s “Most Girls”, a first-person narrative of wanting “real love” as opposed to the superficial qualities of desiring a cash cow, also breathed new life into the lungs of a genre which, more often than not, reverts back to its original form as an industry which is more body- than substance-conscious.

In the wake of a genre that is seemingly dead, except, perhaps, for the few positive veterans of the scene, there is a new solo artist emerging from the Underground.

At first glance, ThaGataNegrra-- or “The Black Cat”-- is a visual anomaly of epic, eye candy proportions. With an album cover featuring a songstress donning purple and pink synthetic loc extensions, a leopard print top, and plaid shorts, Gata Negrra is every bit as cartoonish as an anime character, and yet still manages an intimidating and serious aura that ushers “street cred”, even behind faux cat ears. The reason for the myriad use of cats is simple: they are both her totem animal and stage persona.

On GATA City, the debut album from ThaGataNegrra, dance is used as a synonym of both love and lust: with lyrics inspired by a current relationship, Gata does well to avoid gratuitous oversexualization on songs such as “I Feel You”, with its infectious blend of disco meets New Wave meets Freestyle vibe.

But the Black Cat has a lot more than the metaphorical dance floor anthem to offer up on the album. “Paperdollz” is a personal track dedicated to not changing one’s self to meet the status quo of what men desire or expect.

In an interview, ThaGataNegrra said that though she will be focusing on more personal experiences in the future, a large part of the music-making process is about having fun. But if there were one mission statement she had, one truth she was setting out to prove, it is that “Hip-hop doesn’t have to fit into a stereotypical mold…[It] doesn’t have to be gimmicky, or negative, or materialistic. It’s not about what you have or want the world to think you have…but about being you. And if someone can identify with that, that’s awesome. Whilst dancing, even more so.”

The New Jersey native said that her inspirations range from Prince, Janet Jackson, No Doubt, A Tribe Called Quest, Run DMC, The Ting Tings, the Native Tongues (an alternative movement in Golden Era hip-hop), Gorillaz, and Eminem.

Other than being her totem animal and stage persona, ThaGataNegrra also has an affinity with the feline because their personalities are similar. Like a cat, she says she always lands on her feet. “Sometimes, I feel like: ‘Don’t corner me.’ And sometimes I feel shy and run for cover. But other [times], I'm growling my truth”.

Other performers on GATA City: Angel Vivaldi, PoppaRazi

www.thagatanegrra.net
www.thagatanegrra.bandcamp.com
www.facebook.com/thagatanegrra
www.twitter.com/thagatanegrra

Praxilla is a writer for the Offering, a Metal magazine offering exposure to underground/underrepresented bands of the music scene.
http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1261509068

Losing Too Many Icons!

Nate Dogg died way too young. I wasn't a huge fan, but he left his mark, and helped, along with Warren G., introduce a different style of hip-hop...sung hooks blended skillfully with sampled classic pop, courtesy of Michael McDonald.


 Forties is too young to die. It's funny how forty looks so old when you are in your twenties, but rappers who hit forty are still giving it to us hard.

Now...Loleatta Holloway. How many parties and clubs have I been to where this song was NOT a staple? I mean, c'mon--even Marky Mark sampled it!







Black Box just straight ripped her off  ahem...paid tribute as well:





I wouldn't be surprised if any of these songs enjoyed a renewed popularity due to their passing. Thank you, Nate, for your voice. Thank you, Loleatta, for giving us an iconic track to continue to blast at house parties, clubs, and festivals. (Thank you for coming to Newark and gracing our Lincoln Park Music Festival. Somewhere, there's footage of my Nekoboy, Peace, dancing for one of her performances, but I have yet to locate it...)
Wow. Tomorrow (to use a hackneyed--but true!--phrase) really isn't promised.

Pressing On Despite Haters and Lack of Faith/Support...

Wow.
If you know me you know it takes a lot for me to express frustration. But I have to say it is really hard to get people to support a cause. I mean, I have fans but I barely know it...most of you, when called upon...don't respond. It makes me wonder if anyone actually is into what I'm doing. Part of building a fanbase is word of mouth. I'm really pushing the gig thing this year. But how on earth can anyone tell their buddies "GATA had an awesome gig" or "GATA's gig really sucked, but I liked it anyway" (LOL)  if they're not even there to see it? How can you post pictures, or video--how can you hate on it if you haven't even seen it?

I think that, because of how I performed last year at the Newark Gay Pride thingy, people are prolly put off a bit, and don't want to come out again (not that they came out in droves for the first one). I mean, if you were there, it prolly looked crazy, but some people were responding...add to that the fact that Newark acts as if it's too cule for the room sometimes. They don't respond to anything they don't get, and even if they do get it, it takes a lot for them to express anything. I've seen them literally just stand there and zombie stare at all the acts in a show, save the people who may have known the act that was on stage at any given time. It's like it's too much to ask for some positive energy! Even when WWE was here, they gave no love...and that's WWE! WTF did you buy a ticket for? But I digress...

My performance wasn't...as good as I'd hoped it'd be. I even tell you in the video that I'm having some issues w/sound and a fit of the giggles...thanx to my grrl cub kicking me and these two people in the front who were giving sooo much energy doing these 80s dances, LOL. It could have been much better. I had fun, tho'. I thought I was gonna end up in the damned emergency room/labour and delivery when it was over, N4N!
I look at the video often to study myself and remember what not to do.

I am hoping that May's gig will be better. I'm certainly putting a lot into it. I'm an emcee, but I'm kinda from the old school when people rhymed about nearly anything and could get away w/it, when dance was still an important part of the culture, when people weren't trying to look like they were hardened criminals and obsessed w/"keepin' it real". I'll keep it real, alright, but my "real" is waaaayyy different than their "real". Real for me is expressing myself thru my art and my music, which includes my appearance. I mean even by old-school standards, I'm a different breed. I prolly would've been the weirdest of the Native Tongues if I was part of that crew, to give you some perspective on that.

My show is different from what you'd expect a hip-hop act to be...so you can't go in expecting hardcore ghetto attitude. That's not to say I won't write hardcore, cuz I have some sinister shxt going on in my head sometimes. I explore a range of feelings when I write. Right now, I am focused on trying to have fxckin' fun. Where's the fun @ in hip-hop, guys? Does it always have to be about "bxtches", how much collateral you supposedly have, how many people you fxcked, how much money you have, how you'll cap somebody for no apparent reason, to be "real"? I mean, even when the Beasties wrote "License to Ill", they were doing it tongue-in-cheek! C'mon, yawl...

Expect actual choreography this time. Expect more songs besides what you see on the video. Expect me to look really crazy--as usual. Expect an overall better show.

In light of this I am trying to gather a street team. I need visual support, I need to get the asses in the seats, as it were, LOL. The outside world has to know who I am and what I'm about. If you appreciate what I do, if you think I should meet the world, I humbly ask for any help you might be able to give. I do give incentives, for those asking, "What's in it for me?" Get recruited and find out!

GATA @ Newark-Essex Pride Jam--UPDATED

Come join GATA and other area artists at the Newark-Essex Pride Jam in the Park!
Washington Park in Downtown Newark, NJ--come out and support if you're in the area!
Go time for GATA is 5:20 PM!

Prudential Center

Here in Newark, we recently acquired the behemoth known as "The Rock", tho' nobody here actually calls it that. We're all, "the Arena" or "Prudential Center". It's pretty nice, as I got to see Saturday night when I went to the last NJ Devils game. I'd never been to a hockey event before, so, since one of my buddies had tix, I tagged along and hadda great time.
It kinda reminds me of MSG--and the staff are actually pleasant.
There was (and has been) much discussion amongst the Brick City ranx regarding the inclusion of WWE to the entertainment roster at PruCenter. I decided to just do something about it and start a Demand It! campaign on Eventful.
So, if ya happen to be reading this blog, give the widget a click!

View all Newarkevents at Eventful

Hey, GNOtaku, welcome to my new site!! I wanted to give the whole thing a much-needed makeover and had been busier than a one-armed paperhanger setting it up...now it's finally done!
A few things are different: I didn't add the Litterbox this time, because a) people didn't know how to use the damned thing and b) why invite hate on purpose? Maybe later... when I get someone else to read my mail for me. I liked to have warning that I was getting some "jealous hater nonsense", but I see that haters will post shxt anywhere on the site they can, so oh well. That's what mail philtres are for!
The Gore Goddyss™ page will eventually lead to a whole other site that's in the worx. There'll be a gallery there, as well as stuff geared towards my scarier side.
So...have a whirl around the site, if you'd like to exchange banners, shoot us an email from the contact page!

Her Morbid Meowness
ThaGataNegrra
La GATA Verdadera Y Original