these bells be a rockin’ so don’t come a knockin’ (pt. 1)

So I went to Rock the Bells Saturday, it was hot. Besides the fact that that statement could work the two ways I wanted it too, there’s something about San Bernardino County in general that usually brings a sepia image of downtrodden industry and smog, not to mention horrendous traffic and douchebags. So when I went to visit San Manuel Theater for the first time in 7 years with this predisposition (last time I was there I was a very young punk kid trying to see the Sex Pistols), I didn’t know what to expect. The place is nestled in a beautiful little park (Pictured below at the Paid Dues side stage). Other than the beauty of the scenery, I have a bone to pick with another aspect of this festival, read the review to find out after the jump. (more pictures too!)

Opinion Piece – Your Hip(e), I’m Hop(e). Scan down for photos, it starts with a bold title

Other than the beautiful scenery, Rock the Bells was a bittersweet affair. I should have known when I got out of the car and my left arm was sunburnt from driving with it out the window that the sun was going to kill (It’s a Texas tan right?), so my one major complaint other than the intense lack of anything shady from the suns wrathful gaze (Thank god it was about 10 degrees cooler than it was suppose to be, 85ish instead of 95), was the douchebag vibe I got from 75% of the people there.

Hip-Hop is all about charisma and confidence; many a rapper have thrived off beefs and shit-talking their ass up the charts, maybe that’s where all this arrogant malice came from, but who knows?
I purposefully wear my camera bag as a fanny pack in jest, but it’s usually more of just that to people, here it became a point of disagreement and reason to try and cut-down, not that I pay any attention to what some XXXL shirt-spantted mother fucker says, I usually walk by and nod, but it’s like they were all so needy of my attention that I just gave up after a while.

I’ve written how the rave (kandy kid) culture is based off a narcissistic personality and need for attention from others, but are these fans of hip-hop any different? Sure some artist can talk shit in the limelight, but that’s because they’re in the limelight. When some dumb mother fucker talks shit, it’s because he wants to prove himself the only way he knows how and that’s by physically fighting (you should have seen these two chicks go at it, purses flying and everything!). That’s the problem with the male race in general I think, people forget they actually have a mind and ignore any sort of rational thought that comes across it.

Here’s an example of what a normal adult would consider before acting “if I get into a fight because my ego is bruised, I might just get kicked out and loose a 75$ ticket… right?”

And here’s le douchebag, “That dude just hit on my chick, (I can’t think of anything snide enough to say which would set him straight, so) I’ll have to beat his face in.” The parentheses in that were an intellectual addition to his thought.

Even if you can’t think of some quirky comment to regain composure on top of the theoretical pyramid of masculinity that seems to have such prominence in our culture, there’s other ways to go about it. For instance, you could walk away.

So one culture thrives off attention via color, pacifiers, and PLUR, while the other thrives off some animalistic mentality of ‘Pussy, Money, Weed.’ (Not to say that those things aren’t very nice and worthy of attention) These rappers got to where they are because of different ideals, not some narrow-minded approach to life. Each one of them put their soul into their work, they lived a life based off producing something people like, which fed an ego and from this some ignorant fans think they can act the same way while producing jack shit. Life should be based off what you can produce and not what you can procure. It is in a sense, but people have become jaded to it through the ones who have lived it.

I take it like the smart kid who always says he doesn’t have to study to get an A, sure the kid might not put in that much time, but he puts something towards that A some time of his life, unless he cheated, so if some dumb ass kid tried to follow in his footsteps because he thinks he can live the same way, he’ll fail miserably and end up working somewhere very unpleasant, all because he thought he could make it without trying.

How’s this relate to Rock the Bells? The mentality of that crowd was shit nasty… I have never not talked to so many people because they just didn’t look acceptive or interesting (or maybe it was because I decided not to drink as I feel the 91 freeway with any kind of alcohol in my system is a death wish). If I was drinking, maybe I would have talked myself into a fight by accident as it looked like half the people there wanted to kick somethings ass.

Regardless of the crowd, the talent that was brought to the stage was top notch and I thoroughly enjoyed the events that followed:

THE PHOTO REVIEW!

I got there right as Tech9 was getting on stage (kinda bummed I missed the Knux, but whatever) and he started the day off well, going through the classics and some of his newer stuff. Doesn’t his war paint remind you of that guy from Ace Ventura in the village?

Thank god that the Paid Dues stage was running terribly off schedule, because I headed over there in hopes of something good and found the gem of the afternoon, Mystik Journeymen – Sunspot Jonz and Luckyiam of the Living Legends. I liked the more personal vibe this stage gave as Sunspot was quite a charmer and the view was better.

Then I wondered around for a bit and looked at all the wares, tried to haggle with some people who were running a smoke shop booth, explaining I’d put their booth and logo in my write up if I could score a pipe, they wouldn’t have it.

After that ordeal was over with, I saw that the amphitheater was getting fuller and prepared to snap some House of Pain shots, who have now combined forces with two other rappers, Ill Bill and Slaine, to form (probably my favorite name so far) ‘La Coka Nostra.” I didn’t really know much of their set and left midway for bigger and better things (still don’t know if they played Jump Around).

Turns out, the bigger and better things was the act I was hoping it was going to be, Sage Francis. Sage takes the spitting raps ‘as fast as possible’ approach, then slows it down, sort of like a verbal hyperbola.

Then it was time to go back to the main stage for the host, Supernatural to spit some free style in preparation for a personal favorite of mine, Reflection Eternal, but it turns out, after Supernatural was done freestyling about everything from Doritos (which were 4$ a bag!) and roaches, to my personal favorite line rhyming groovy with boobies, America’s Best Dance Crew came out, I guess it was entertaining as I could never see myself doing anything in that sort of physical spectrum.

There’s nothing I can say about Reflection Eternal that would describe the respect I have for Talib (not to mention Hi-Teks backing), the man’s a true poet. There set was much too short though and it bummed me out.

That concludes part one of this two part series on how fucking rad Rock the Bells was, next up, Big Boi, Buckshot, the Roots, Busta, Nas & Damien, and the Cube of Ice!