Just when you thought the Summer of Gurpstock was over,we stick the landing with another spectacular catastrophe. As the city council of Asheville manages to anger both sides of the hotly contested debate as to whether hip hop should be allowed at local festivals, the artists of Gurp City South manage to weasel their way into headlining both nights of the LAAF Fest.
Beginning at 2pm Saturday my consigliere & I began our promo mission, passing out fliers for the upcoming GCS show at the Orange Peel, to patrons of the Lexington Avenue Arts Festival while indulging ourselves in liberal doses of PBR & Nathan’s hot dogs. Somehow after 500 handbills dispersed, we managed to keep this pace & arrive at the main stage for the Ville Boyz set at 9pm, with some modicum of respectable decorum (comparatively speaking of course). The VB’s went on to tear the house down with a rowdy yet upbeat hour of music for a crowd of several hundred. Surprisingly it wasn’t until they slowed it down for one of their satellite associates to do a very VH1, Wycleff-esqe, one-man & his acoustic, love ballad that several meat head goons jumped a guy in flip-flops in the front row, simply because the guy’s girlfriend couldn’t be coerced into making out with one of these assailants (so powerful was the impact of this amorous serenade upon the up & coming date rapist). Ironically the violence was ended by the closing of the set with the rowdiest of Ville Boyz numbers “2 Days Til Tuesday” and all was made right in the jungle. My personal joy was such that I continued my celebration with several associates until about 8am. A respectable 16hr bender survived relatively unscathed.
Waking up Sunday afternoon just two hours before my 7pm set with GFE, I arrived back at the festival just in time to dispatch another chili-cheese dog & two beers before showtime. The crowd was sizable & energetic and the set was deftly executed. The highlight for me was undoubtedly being heckled by a homeless person, a remarkable 1st in a career marked with a litany of auspicious events. The bum managed to make his way to the front row to ice grill the band for a portion of the show, sliding his hand across his throat menacingly along with a few other disparaging gestures, before coming side stage & asking one of the MC’s if he could get a verse (yes even bums rap now & they too believe they do it better than you). After his predictable rebuke Evil Mr. Wendall returned to a place of prominence in the crowd & continued to pantomime his disapproval at the free live music. Say what you will about the downtrodden & dispossessed vagabonds of Asheville but they prove time & again that beggars can in fact be choosers.
Ok… after some days on the road that required another week of recovery I have returned & will get back on my posting grind, as there are things afoot that the public simply must be made aware of. But before all that I wanna thank Lauren Pierro, Tone, The Problmeaddicts & all the folks who mad this year’s Bella Terra Festival possible. This weekend was further proof of my belief that the liver is evil & deserves punishment. As usual my main damey & partner in crime Johnny Durkin aka Kool DJ Amber Alert acted in collusion on the heist of several golf carts. Capers that were highlighted by a power slide into the head of security, my first pop-a-wheelie, and culminated in both myself & Durk crashing high speed (for a golf cart anyway) through the performances of two aghast fire jugglers. A spectacular moral victory for enemies of the faux arts everywhere.
Once again proving that Gurp City is a lifestyle not a gimmick, TopR, Adam Strange, DJ Amber Alert & I did a grievously hungover yet heroic 4pm Saturday set in the blazing hot sun for a few hundred damaged, yet no worse for the wear festival goers. And though playing outdoors, I for once took the occasion to not barf onstage… I know, kind of seems like a wasted opportunity. While over the course of two consecutive all nighters several pictures were taken of cohorts & party members in various embarrassing states of vulnerability & compromising positions, unfortunately they are of such low quality I am unable to post them here. We will simply have to make due with the above endearing little number of those of us who made it to 6am Sunday morning just hours before we made our escape back to Lagurdia, none the wiser.
Special thanks to MadLee for the timely airport pick-up & the clean get away in the $100K Benzo. You sir are a class act. Gurp City South wins again.
For those that don’t know, every Thursday from 10pm to midnight several members of the Gurp City South crew, namely myself (Foul Mouth Jerk), TopR Holiday, Adam Strange & Smidi host an internet radio show on Ashevillefm.org, appropriately known as the Worst Case Scenario. The program is basically two hours of dubious opinions, wild, baseless speculation and slanderous accusations that push the envelope of free speech to the outermost reaches of dickishness, with bits of rap music peppered liberally throughout. It’s sort of like a drunk version of Hardball meets Kool DJ Red Alert… with racist jokes. Recurring guests include a case of PBR, the head of our research department (i.e. one gossipin ass black chick) known as the Snow Shark, and a 15 y.o Hungarian boy affectionately referred to as Serbian Beiber, who serves as an intern, but whose main purpose is to retrieve beers & keep us abreast of how low the standards of behavior for teenage girls has fallen. Needless to say it’s the cutting edge in tasteless public discourse.
That being said, I have been promising on air to post highlights from the show on the site for months. And while I wouldn’t count on this now being a new, reliable occurrence on my part, I will be posting what I think to be the funnier snippets from random episodes as frequently as my feeble work ethic will allow. The current posting being an episode in which multiple members of the staff had split a bag of shrooms just before going on the air.
So without further ado…
DJ Hyphen Interview-2 - DJ Hyphen Interview w/ TopR & Jerk pt 2
DJ Hyphen Interview-3 - DJ Hyphen w/ Jerk & TopR pt 3
As promised here are the 2nd and third parts of the Marathon of Shame interview with DJ Hyphen form KUBE 93fm in Seattle’s “Sunday Night Sound Session”. And for shits & giggles I included a picture taken mere moments before I became locked in mortal combat with the aforementioned racist bulldog on the mean streets of Denver… He got some lucky shots in, but I still feel I won the fight.
3 more shows with The Artifacts and another job well done by what I like to call “The Greatest Show on Drugs”, though this time the lion’s share of the devastation was done by tequila & Jameson. While the name of this tour has been “Back Up On the Scene”, this particular leg of it should have been known as Vomi-Tour-ium. In Greenville, SC the notorious DJ Football began the night with four consecutive shots of Patron, while the goodly people of the audience assaulted the stage with complimentary shot after beer during our performance. I lost count somewhere around the 12th can of PBR & the 15th shot of Jamie.
I am proud to say that I broke a personal record, vomiting 3 times on stage & miraculously not fumbling a verse. After our set someone literally asked me if barfing on stage was “my gimmick”, as if being some kind of rap G.G. Allen was now hot in the streets (fuck, I’m so out of touch with current culture it just might be). And while walking past some chick near the restrooms she pointed at the twin glops of regurge on my shirt & asked “eewww, what’s that?” I simply responded “A lifestyle”.
But alas I have to award the Gurp Trophy to DJ Football, aka Bitch Ninja, aka Kool DJ Yellow Alert, etc. For needing his girl to drive him home from the club & having her pull over six times in one hour to earl on the side of the highway. Upon his return home, curling up on the cool comfort of the bathroom floor next to his Racer X magazine & letting the spins lull him into sweet dreams of motorcycle porn… Oh yeah also there was some music played in between there somewhere.
Big shouts to Jessica for getting our DJ home safely & then snapping the appropriate photo as he wallowed in his self-inflicted wounds.