Earlier this morning as I rode the L train, I was reading an article in the new Fader about Spoek Mathambo where a blockquote essentially screamed out at me as it met my eyes when I turned the page:
“How much do I want to play into the fact that my culture’s been so much of my life, and how much do I want to say f*ck it, I want to do something completely and utterly reactionary?”
I would agree to say that this sentiment is evident throughout the sensibilities of us native New Yorkers who have enjoyed years of being at the forefront of culture, but are now at the crossroads of nostalgia and progression; the recurring theme of “upholding culture” doesn’t always fit well with the implications of the “on to the next one” plight of today.
HOWEVER…
There are certain instances where they meet perfectly- basketball is definitely one of those examples. This summer, we, the once gatekeepers of the global epicenter- its MECCA-, have been engaged more than ever with the culture of basketball. Between The LeBromination, the World Basketball Festival (which hosted some of the fr-fr-freshest events I’ve attended this summer. Shouts to 94×50 & Nike for looking out..), and the myriad of tournaments that turn the playgrounds into the proverbial hollowed grounds, there are feelings of an imminent return to glory.
Rik Cordero’s attentive eye and the homie Lemon Andersen’s ultra-focused prose have essentially, in one clip, visualized this locally-focused, globally-minded “get down or lay down” sensibility in their self-described “ode to NYC” entitled “The Imperial”.
The Good Lord knows I’m as New York as they come, and this “25th Hour-esque” juxtaposed lens on our daily lives is remarkable, and is living proof that reports of our fall from grace have been greatly exaggerated.
I’m truly looking forward to their next two interpretations.