Two years ago, we lost a zen-like intersection of flatground that intertwined with all vibrant walks of life — the greatest non-spot in this history of skateboarding. It was, however, replaced with actual skateable obstacles this year: decent-enough beveled benches, a gap that replicated BAM’s ledge-to-street gap, and a Flushing-width flatground gap that Jason Byoun switch Muska flipped. The spot’s original meditative qualities dissolved into cement fairy dust, but at least it’s something to skate for now, even if the overall aesthetic of the new Astor Place is “we ran out of money.”
“And there’s also another strategy where we look at spaces that could potentially be skate spots but they lack some functionality, and then we add that. So we’ve added granite blocks and granite benches to squares that could use the life that skateboarding brings. By doing that we create these sort of meet-up hubs and social spots that really help unite neighbourhoods and give kids somewhere to go.” — An interview with Gustav Eden, a man employed by the city of Malmö to improve its public spaces for skateboarders, reminding everyone to concentrate all life efforts on securing at least part-time residence in a Scandinavian country.
Knowing Mixtape dropped at the exact moment the world needed it to heal its wounds.
“…it clicks in the spirit of Keenan Milton and Gino Iannucci, Jason Dill and Anthony Van Engelen, Brian Wenning and Anthony Pappalardo, Mike Carroll and Rick Howard.” — Boil the Ocean on Bobby and Hjalte’s “Looks Ok to Me” part. Is it too late to modify the S.O.T.Y. rules to enable joint winners?
Mr. 3-2 was killed in Houston last week. 3-2 held a special place in my heart thanks to a handful of incredible features on UGK songs, and for creating much amazing, smooth, oozy rap music that Houstonians have always been better at making than anyone else. Rest in Peace.
“I love Montreal so much, but every time I come here, I’m such a piece of shit.” — Jersey Dave
Skateboarding is all spectacle, but I understand that you’re up in arms about the International Olympic Committee treating it like the highly-commercialized mainstream sport that it is. You’re asking “how can you even judge skateboarding? It’s art, bro.”
Dime, in the Canadian tradition of being smarter, funnier and better at skateboarding than us, addressed this dilemma long before Tokyo 2020 was even a discussion. But still, we’re here deciding which kickball court to skate piles of refuse in, pleading, “how could they do this to us? This isn’t the 200 meter backstroke…this is skateboarding!” Yes, aside from the fact that smoking weed makes you better at it, skateboarding has very little in common with competitive swimming.
As descendants of the land that brought us the Montreal Screwjob, Bret “The Hitman” Hart, and Robert “Sluggo” Boyce, the Dime boys recognized what the future of skateboard events could and should look like. Let me tell you, it looks a lot like professional wrestling.
Here’s an annotated map of Pulaski by Jimmy Pelletier, one of the spot’s longest tenured filmers. “If you called 202-638-9511 on the other side of the pole, a homeless person would usually answer and you could ask if there were any skaters across the street. If they said ‘yes,’ you asked them to yell one of them over to the phone.”
“The general consensus with the politicians in Copenhagen is that this is a capital, it’s noisy, people come here to party, have a good time and we need to make the most of that. If it gets too noisy, then move to the country: this is a capital city. I’m not even going to take credit for that, it comes from the politicians.” Basically, Copenhagen is the fucking greatest, and we can’t have nice things in the U.S. #FDT
Has New York truly become a skate scene that is first and foremost internationally scorned for unfair treatment of crustaceans — all because of one bad apple?
Three years ago, Canada’s leading skateboard thinktank released the seminal documentary short, “Pretentious Self-Fellatio in the Big Apple,” a gripping portrait of what it was like to exist as an #individual in New York’s fickle fashion elite. It arrived to praise for its realism and scorn for its honesty. But a lot has changed since 2013. Camo pants are *so* out, we’re out of KRS-One #deepcuts to get that #knowledge from, and it’s, like, literally ~IMPOSSIBLE~ to find cool stock footage of “the old New York” that eight other jerks haven’t spliced into their “Summer Trip to N.Y.” montage.
Now, we’re into slow-BPM house tunes, falling off rooftops, an apparent indecisiveness of whether to skitch or powerslide, and unfortunately, an irreparable worldwide reputation that makes the city’s skaters most unwelcome at the bottom of the sea.