I love the part in the beginning of Ocean’s 13 where Reuben tells Bank (played by Al Pacino) that there was a code amongst “guys that shook Sinatra’s hand.” While that ritualistic sensibility might’ve originated with the “friends of mine/friends of ours” sets of old, is has somehow trickled down and made evident again through the likes of Diddy, Jigga, and most recently as part of a promotional campaign for this years VMAs, Drake.

I’m interested not by the reasoning behind the stark, overall gravitation towards Old Blue Eyes- we can all only wish that we embodied an ounce the eternal cool that he was portrayed as having- but more at the fact that hip-hop’s fetishistic transparent obsession with his persona is so recurring. Last week, I had an opportunity to view Drake’s TVC on MTV.com, and the first thing that came to mind (before I could mentally complement it, because it is a dope spot) was “wait, isn’t being Sinatra Jay’s thing?” It’s been less than a year since “Empire State of Mind” hit full swing and the critical mass and mainstream media were obsessed daily with his self-pronouncement of being the “new Sinatra”, creating a storm of rumors that “Empire” would now, or soon, replace “New York, New York” as the city’s consummate psalm.

The funny thing is upon hearing “Empire State of Mind” for the first time last year, I thought, “wait, isn’t that Diddy’s thing?” (I also thought “wait, isn’t the ‘state of mind’ thing Nas’s thing? But from that, I digress.) Out of all the pioneers in Sinatra-ization of hip-hop, Puff is definitely the groundbreaker; we all remember in 2003 when he, Ashton Kutcher, and a finally- recognized-for-his-celebrity Jamie Foxx touted themselves the “new Rat Pack”, socially portraying themselves as Sinatra, Dean Martin, and Sammy Davis, Jr, respectively.  Then, in 2008, he famously reprised that character, copiously, and successfully channeling Sinatra in his campaign for Ciroc:

So, with all these examples having mainstream implications, why has is been acceptable to style jack so transparently (and I mean this in the most non-critical way possible)? Remember on “Big Brother” where Kanye was rhyming about his quiet dispute with Jay-Z because he told Jay he did a song with Coldplay and the next thing he knew, Jay had a song with Coldplay? I would’ve expected that same agitation to appear somewhere in this circumstance, especially since they oft share the same stage. I guess that ultimately, Sinatra has become a caricature to our culture in some capacity; we celebrate the “idea” of Sinatra rather than his artistic achievement. More Halloween than homage.

In closing, and in my humble opinion, I’d most certainly take Puff Daddy, Jaÿ-Z, and Drake over Sinatra 1, Sinatra 2, and Sinatra 3 anyday. Admiration is cool, but let’s not sweat dude.

Here’s a little kinetic typography to hold it down as we continue movin’ on this side… Respect to Cookin’ Soul for putting this together… Spotted at NahRight (peace to “The Originators” Dre & Eskay)…

More SUITS soon enough….

In the weeks preceding Kanye’s immortalized first solo show at SOBs back in 2003, I remember getting into several college lunchroom (and dorm room) arguments over whether or not the already-noteworthy producer could rap. Aside from “The Bounce” off Blueprint 2, at the time, there really wasn’t anything publicly facing (or mixshow-facing for that matter) that helped support my case that he was going to be important. Not just “big” or on “son is poppin’” status, but a true value add- an asset- to the culture and the economics of its entertainment landscape.

I forget exactly how I did it, but I managed to collect a few scattered freestyles from across some random message boards with hopes of piecing together some adequate proof that Kanye was, in fact, dope, and that his contributions as a going-against-the-grain-but-still-acceptable traditionalist and music purist to what was, at-the-time, an unstoppable force, but a label which represented everything but middle-class.

Anyway, after playing those joints for my crew of Doubting Thomases (some of whom work in the music industry now, coincidentally), the monumental project “I’m Good” (the classic mixtape that was released right after his infamous car accident- kicking off a series of events which unfolded so opportunistically that it made him the urban manifestation of an “outlier”… but I digress…) dropped, and that became all the proof I needed.

A few weeks later, a few of us took to SOBs, and the rest, as they say, is history.

A quick aside: Urban America has experienced a cultural shift specifically in the second half of the last decade, largely defined by widespread Internet penetration and democratization of information… and the former “gatekeepers” growing irrelevant and obsolete entering a new life stage.

Quick jump in the Delorean (or hot tub, if you prefer), and here we are seven years later. Same place. SOBs.

To Varick and Houston I returned early last week, in anticipation to hear to what J. Cole, Roc Nation’s ace-in-hole, had to offer. I had met Cole quickly almost a year ago backstage at a Wale show in the East Village, and even before the attention and recognition, he struck me as a very cool cat.

The stage was already set, the story drafted to perfection- (I’m just sayin’, “Jay-Z Protégé Performs On Same Sold-Out Stage As Kanye Seven Years Late! Everyone’s Faith In Hip-Hop Is Renewed!” is a layup for today’s authenticity-starved blogosphere)- and to say the least, I was impressed.

But not fulfilled.

I left the show with a certain perplexity that I couldn’t shake- was it that I began to realize that the reasons that I valued hip-hop were evolving into something different, or worse, invalid? Like any hip-hop fan, I played Devil’s Advocate and immediately compared what I just saw in young Cole to the immediate, unswerving awe and impact I felt when first hearing Jay-Z, Kanye, Nas, etc., because they’re the gold standard- those who left the game different from when they first touched it (in my experience at least). Right after the show, my emotional investment just didn’t look like it’d pay dividends with Cole as he was very calculated and was following a predesigned roadmap- ultimately, I wanted to hear something truly new… something I couldn’t fully grasp but would be drawn to.

However, after a brief IM conversation with my good friend (and Billboard.com editor) Mariel Concepcion the next day, I realized that my stubborn, content-spoiled Brooklyn ass wasn’t being fair. In fact, I was being a cabezón for failing recognize Cole for what he’s already accomplished and contributed- an honest, wonderfully-crafted project in The Warm Up, and a stage presence that was polished far beyond his experience would suggest. Over the last few days, I listened to The Warm Up with a more purposeful ear, and I feel confident saying that his range, depth of lyrics, and versatility of delivery have earned J. Cole a place at today’s influential roundtable (who, for all intents and purposes, includes Drake, Jay Electronica, Kid Cudi, and Donnis. But that’s just me. And my track record is flawless.),  and considered to be of XXL’s systematic 2010 Freshmen Class.

I say that to say this: if you’re a hip-hop cynic, keep your “show and prove” shield up, as it’s your filter to block out nonsense- your defense against the dark arts, if you will . But lend an ear to J. Cole and embrace what he’s about to prove… because all the stars are seemingly aligning in his benefit.

Jaÿ-Z jumped on Snoop Dogg’s “I Wanna Rock”………that’s cool with me.

Jaÿ-Z flipped a bunch of rappers’ names in a verse like he’s done once twice before……….not cool with me.

If you’re wondering what I’m talking about, give a quick listen below to “What’s In A Name” (unreleased), and Missy Elliot’s “Back In The Day” (should’ve been unreleased.)

SUITS IS WATCHING. LIKE A HAWK. RAP BETTER, PLEASE.

(“Already Home” is still the toughest verse of the year, so I’ll credit you this one, Jaÿ-Z.)

So by now, you’ve probably seen this:

Which features these:

Artistic? Um, yeah. A little perturbing? Personally, kinda. Symbology has never really been my thing- a very wise woman once told me not to open doors I can’t close. But that’s just me.

The intention of this post isn’t to analyze the video or make claims to Shawn Corey’s connection to any global consortium of the ruling elite (yo, that looks ridiculous just typing it…), there are already enough posts on that.

This is simply a cry for people to actually know what they’re talking about while screaming “Illuminati!” or “He’s a Mason!”. Know where the influences lie, folks, and know that you don’t know.  Then ask questions to find out about the things of which you don’t understand, and once you’re done doing that, use your God-given reason to make a conclusion.

(Twitter has looked like a bunch of old wives have been using it the past few days…lol)

Plus, where were these claims in 1996? On Reasonable Doubt, when he sampled Prodigy’s voice for the hook of “D’Evils”, the hook says “Illuminati got my mind, soul, and my body”. Straight out. (While we’re on the topic of P (pause), when he put out that ultra-demonic video for Mack 10 Handle, people seemed more entertained than inclined to be conspirators…)

Hmmmmm…..

Look on the bright side: no amount of the dark side of the force could’ve saved this monstrosity (sorry Jay, not your shining moment, fam.):

That’s all.

SUITS!

This past Sunday’s rendition of “Table Manners” featured the quickly-becoming-iconic Sean C & LV, who have produced many of your favorite songs. I’ll leave it at that.

Download the episode here: http://www.megaupload.com/?d=OGI0BZE8

Peace to the entire Table Manners Show & crew- DJ Spin One, DJ Yonny, DJ Fatfingaz, Manny Fresco, and Jose “Yung Skywalker” S.

TABLE MANNERS every Sunday night at 7pm EST on A List Radio.

There’s no doubt that the words “legend”, “guru”, “influencer” are beginning to lose the strength in meaning in this day and age where there are a plethora of novices seemingly self-appointing themselves titles with every FB update, Tweet, and blog entry. (To be honest, when snake oil salesmen approach me and tell me what they do (and do for me/my clients), I simply say “let me look at the work”, which is usually followed by a blank stare…) There are times, however, where the reputation and résumé of an individual not only precede them, but also shine through.

Such is the case with Daniel Hastings.

He’s shot the covers for some of the most influential hip-hop albums of my time, including Return to the 36 Chambers, I Am…, Doe or Die, Capital Punishment, and Only Built 4 Cuban Linx… In addition, he’s responsible for immortalizing the legends of today in their infancy, including Jay-Z (for his first ever magazine cover, Stress, in 1996), Eminem, Tony Touch, GangStarr, EPMD, and more. There are very few people who’ve amassed such a vast wealth of work within such a short amount of time, and yet he remains a quiet assassin… the name of the game is show and prove folks, show and prove.

Last week, he held a small reception in Tribeca to preview the release of his 2010 calendar (which will be available soon), and some of the images took me back. Wayyyyy back.

More pics after the jump (taken on my iPhone).

SUITS!