Young Buck to Old Bull

Will we ever break the cycle?

Remember how we used to always moan that the OGs were so miserable about everything we considered to be fun? The music we listened to, the clothes we rocked, our lingo, music videos, dating habits and eventually… how we used the internet. 

Remember how we used to always say, so sure of ourselves, that we would never become like them? 

Well.. I think I’ve become - somewhat - like them. I find myself either in a state of confusion or disagreement with how younger people navigate the world of nightlife, dating, social media, music, society and more. The only difference is that I try my hardest to let them be, keep it to myself or simply acknowledge that neither way is right nor wrong. But it does make me wonder, is anyone ever truly able to break the cycle of how we view those who come after us? 

Now this is not to say that I don’t appreciate or understand absolutely anything they do but I am quite surprised at how often I sound like the same people I used to laugh and roll my eyes at. I worry, a lot. I worry if the kids are being responsible, whether they are safe but most importantly whether they are getting the most out of the beauty that this world and life has to offer. 

Now this isn’t a bunch of paragraphs to explain how I’m different to my OGs but rather a way of sharing some genuine thoughts. The thing is, if our parents had it better than our grand parents, and we’re living a life with more access to knowledge and resources than our parents.. then shouldn’t the next generation have it better than we did? (Not taking in climate change and the housing crisis that is.) Especially when we are always saying how we work hard to give those after us a better life?

Or….. was it just our parents who said that? Do any of us actually ever say that? Do we even think of creating something to give to those who are in line or do we live purely for ourselves as a result of that freedom that our parents created for us?

Let’s bring it back to the music thing and let’s discuss a tangible example that I got to experience over the weekend, here in Sāo Paulo.

For many months now my friend Roni has been telling me about these dancehall parties that take place in downtown, letting me know how much I’d love them and how “cool” they are. I’d seen the odd Instagram story here and there but was never able to actually make it down to one. That is, until last Sunday night. I hopped in the Uber from my friends’ apartment in Vila Madalena and to my pleasant surprise the Uber driver was selling his homemade cachaça for 15RS. We connected in my baby Portuguese and his advanced English as I slowly sipped my sweet concoction until it was time for me to get out at Av Sao Joao.

Roni and Luisa met me on the street, as that part of downtown is absolutely no joke after sunset, I quickly updated them on my antics from the night before and we proceeded to the party.

The entrance seemed to be a literal hole in the wall, guarded by two young boys who, to me, looked adorable but had on a tough face as they tried to stop Roni from re-entering until they realised he had already been inside. I smiled and nodded as I realised that they are clearly involved with the event and are trying to do their job, and do it well. 

I entered a small space with a tiled floor, a simple cold blue and cold yellow light, 2 towers of speakers, a bar and just the right amount of people either posted up against the wall or absolutely dancing their 4$$ off. Even synchronised routines that included a slow whine all the way down to the floor but with the head tilted backwards and the lower body angling forwards. Literally the final move of the winning person in a limbo game, but with more swagger.

There it was, I had finally entered the basement scene of Sean Paul’s ‘Get Busy’ music video, but in SP. 

Over the space of the next 5 hours or so I ran into a bunch of girlfriends, drank huge copas of whiskey & energy drink, heard dub, 80s and 90s dancehall, rubadub and reggae, danced to a point where my knees and lower back couldn’t even stop me anymore and listened to incredible MC after incredible MC. Two of them who I actually got to chat to and who go by Scof and Purple P. They are MCS, singers, producers, promoters and truly kids who are creating, conserving and passing on culture.

Not just by the music that they made, the guerrilla style of throwing events, the aesthetics but after following them on Instagram, realising that they educate their peers and friends on the Jamaican cultures that they love and adore so much, before reintroducing it to their environment with their own Brazilian flavour added to it.

All appreciation, absolutely no appropriation. A lot of innovation.

I danced til the sun came up, had breakfast at Estadao and headed back to Pinheiros. I woke up the next day realising that what I witnessed last night was bigger and better than any of us had ever contributed to that particular culture, in a grass roots way. And no, I am not denying the amazing work my mates in London, LA, Barbados etc do but I’m talking about the way it was done. No brand, no phone, no proper venue, no sponsor, not even any CDJs in sight. NOPE. Just one laptop and one mic.

Does it make one better than the other? Of course not. Did I live, learn, smile, dance, feel more at the one I visited over the weekend? Absolutely.

It made me think, can we ever truly break the cycle of being reserved and underestimating of what ‘the kids’ are doing and are capable of? Even though we can all think of names of people who keep themselves busy, happy, booked and inspired by surrounding themselves by, and immersing themselves in, the newer movements and collectives. Is it perhaps something that is just part of our nature, like greying? Some go full grey at 22 and others show a couple of strands at 40. Others let it completely take over their hair and some go out of their way to dye it?

I don’t know what it is, all I know is that I too am guilty of it but find so much joy in being proven wrong. 

I guess I’m going to walk around with my salt n pepper haircut: sometimes a bit apprehensive but most of the times applauding from the dance floor.

Woman get busy…