Took a week off from the countdown, sorry. There will probably be two of these posts this week. Moving on with the retrospective…#25-21, #20-16.
15. The Dipset Reunion
It is no secret that video part song choices are crucial to developing musical preferences of all those who have grown up on skate videos. From the punk rock of the 1980s, to the indie shit that accompanies any emotional “skating is an art, bro” video of today, skateboarding has a much closer tie-in with music than traditional sports, whose typical soundtrack ranges from “Kernkraft 400” to “I Like To Move It Move It.” If you came of age in the early 2000s, the impact of Dipset, and its days of making era-definingopuses ofignorance, cannot be understated. The reunion was a beacon of hope for all of those who miss the magic that defined early-to-mid-2000s skateboarding — when the internet, skate plazas, reality shows, and awful rap dynasties like Young Money were not a part of the cultural landscape. The reunion was also a chance for New York rap to get another shot at the previous-decade-dominating rap comeback, as Wu-Tang’s return in the 2000s was hardly worth the attention it was given.
Ari Marcopoulos dropped another book, entitled “Stoopz.” It is hard to tell how much of it is recycled from the previous, partially skate-related release, “Out & About,” which for those who don’t know, is a treasure trove of Kids-era New York skate photography, in addition to a great archive of eighties hip-hop images. Some of the preview images seem recycled, others seem brand new, so it might be right in between. You can check out the quick video of him flipping though the pages here. Either way, if you have the forty bucks to spend, it might be a worthwhile purchase so you can hold on to a piece of the past. And if you haven’t figured it out, the above photo is from the very same book.
While on the topic of still images, Zoo has a pretty good post of Sean Cronan’s photography, with some solid background info write-ups about some images from the State of Mind filming days.
The homie from Boil the Ocean is back on his grind, providing articulate write-ups on the state of skateboard videos and other projects that have been eclipsed by the most handsome skateboarder’s magnum opus.
Remember that post about the Grace Ledge a while back? Well, given that the place is plastered with “Grace Plaza Re-Opening 2011″ signs, you can forget about any sort of renovations occurring there that might spare the beloved white ledges.
If you haven’t familiarized yourself with it already, you should be watching this Nate Rojas AKA “Mars Attacks” part from the Film Me video. It’s basically a southern California-esque part done in New York. The best tricks are the ollie through the rail at 101 Park Ave / Concrete Heaven and the tricks on the CBS rail, which still stands as one of the best looking spots on the eastern seaboard. We run an old-fashioned operation over here so we may be alone in that opinion though. Although most people around here abide by the “If you can’t jump up it, don’t jump down it” mantra, this part is good enough to get anyone psyched to huck themselves down a twelve-stair, assuming you’re genuinely capable of doing such an absurd feat.
A Day in the Life of Matthew Mooney. Billed as a “realistic” day in the life of a New York skateboarder, you should take the portion where he gets up at 8 PM with a box of salt.
Quote of the Week: “Like, you know how everyone rides Indy’s irregardless of their official truck sponsor? I’m still hoping that Dylan just threw an Analog patch over some Dior jeans, because if he looks that good in bona-fide factory gear, then all hope is truly lost.” – Ted Barrow
On top of putting together Full Bleed, and being one of the nicest, most approachable dudes in New York skateboarding, Alex Corporan is responsible for Matt Mooney being able to kickflip.
Full Bleed: New York City Skateboard Photography gets an official, wide release today. Even though the book has experienced a fairly wide media blitz this past summer (well, at least as far as it can go for a skateboarding photography book, but even then, a GQ feature for a skateboard book is pretty crazy), and you have seen maybe three or four links to interviews related to the book on here, we felt that we should do something different.
This was originally supposed to be used for Banks week back in July, but wound up sitting around. The interview has absolutely nothing to do with Full Bleed whatsoever, and is more about skateboarding in New York from around 1986 to the late-nineties. It was conducted four years ago, on August 27, 2006, by Ted Barrow. Hopefully, it provides some context on the man largely responsible for the book for those who may not know him. Plus, olden day New York City content never focusses on people from Washington Heights in the same way it covers people from Downtown Manhattan or Brooklyn, so maybe it’ll serve as a bit of a change of pace.
Given that the environment surrounding skateboard videos in 2010 typically shoots through a one-month cycle, in which the routine of them being premiered at some bar, uploaded to YouTube, released on DVD, deleted off YouTube, re-uploaded onto some sketchy eastern European video sharing site predominantly used for personality gauges of mailorder brides, and finishing their lifespan with a three page topic on Slap that usually dies out around the time some token asshole says “It’s kind of boring, I don’t get why everyone likes it so much,” it’s hard to maintain a longstanding presence, or even find something you may have missed from years before. The phenomenon is particularly pertinent to local videos, which went from their nineties/early-2000s existence of being passed around their respective regions on VHS dubs, to the complete opposite end of the spectrum, where every single twelve-year-old has a HD camera and desperately tries to make the defining document of their generation, right before the majority of their friends find out about cocaine and start filling out their art school applications.
Everyone knows that Mixtape is the best New York video (of the nineties, because “New York” videos don’t really exist anymore in the same way, unless you’re Flipmode.) Maybe if you’re more concerned with dat real hip-hop than with skateboarding, or are a Japanese person who doesn’t know who Eric Koston is, it’s your favorite video of all time. Choosing such a distinction as a clear-cut statement is more difficult for the 2000s, given that there are probably, like, a hundred New York skate videos that have been forgotten by this point. But unless you have personal allegiances, a safe top three would be Vicious Cycle, Flipmode 4, and Lurkers 2, probably the best time-capsule of what it was like to actually skate in New York during 2004, with the drives to Staten Island to pretend like you’re in California for a few hours, and the shift away from skating the Financial District with the recent loss of the little Banks.
Lurkers 2 has been uploaded to Vimeo for about two months now, and is teetering around one hundred views, which is only fuel to the suspicion that it is criminally under seen outside the immediate circle of Manhattan and North Brooklyn inhabiting skateboarders. Plus, it’s a good way to cap off August. The quality looks decent, not what you’d expect from the age of faux-HD Vimeo uploads, but you’ll live. Features full parts from Dharam Khalsa, Ted Barrow, Jason Dill, Ian Reid, Lurker Lou, and Charles Lamb. Has a riveting opener by Aaron Szott, and cameos from Quartersnacks team members, Matthew Mooney, Ty Lyons, and Pryce Holmes.
As skate parks and their “superior” alternative, skate plazas, begin to eat away at actual street skating, leading us into a path that demands previously unnecessary distinctions like “real street” to be made when discussing skateboarding, we’re losing a lot more than places to be unwanted in. The next generation will probably grow up to become an insanely talented group of skaters, but at a complete loss when they happen to encounter a crack or rough ground, confining them into an institutionalized, synthetic, parks-only existence. There will probably be a flannel-wearing, bearded, post-apocalyptic sect of survivors that strives to preserve skateboarding on things that were not intended to be skated on, and will do so on the four or five remaining metal grate spots in Brooklyn while converging around a campfire to watch dubs of Dan Wolfe videos on earth’s last remaining VCR as well.
But before all of that happens (and idiots from Florida doing ollies onto parked cars in Harlem seems to be expediting that hypothetical situation), we need to take these moments in time and admire our prominent locations today for the unique blends of character that they continue to churn out. Every classic skate spot comes with a batch of stories about entertaining crack heads, wild cops, and entertaining crack heads, and as we slowly dive into a prefabricated world of skateparks and recreations of actual skate spots, we need to remember that no skatepark designer is astute enough to clone the crackheads and ten-year-old scooter kids that listen to too much Roscoe Dash and incorporate them into the design of the park. Some parks in the Pacific Northwest definitely have their token meth-heads that could be seen as distant relatives, but most skateparks don’t seem to be marked with a lifeblood of anecdotes beyond who-did-what, making them pretty boring in the end.
Basically, what all this tallies up to is me having a free thirty minutes on my hands and making a Lenox clip. All of the lines are recycled. Some of the character footage has been used, but it’s mostly extended versions of the aforementioned crack addicts and young Roscoe Dash fans.
Features Miles Marquez, Charles Lamb, Kevin Tierney, Ted Barrow, Ben Nazario, and Tyler Tufty. If you’re from Brooklyn, you might get offended watching it. Depending on how seriously you take ten-year-olds.
And for the record, Alicia Keys is from Hell’s Kitchen.
“Shut up, you gonna get beat up by….50 Cent. So shut up.“
