Fai_Ryy
@theartofmadeline
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izzy's playlists!
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@madeupmemories
NEW YORK CITY!!! NEXT MONTH, WE’RE HEADLINING AT THE FAMED MUSIC VENUE SOB’S!!!
We’re rapping our new songs, our classic songs, telling stories you’ve never heard before, and bringing special guests through!!
Tickets are the same price as a film, which is great CAUSE FEB. 23RD IS ABOUT TO BE A MOVIE!!! Tickets available here: http://sobs.com/2016/9083/itsthereal
NEW YORK CITY!!! NEXT MONTH, WE’RE HEADLINING AT THE FAMED MUSIC VENUE SOB’S!!!
We’re rapping our new songs, our classic songs, telling stories you’ve never heard before, and bringing special guests through!!
Tickets are the same price as a film, which is great CAUSE FEB. 23RD IS ABOUT TO BE A MOVIE!!! Tickets available here: http://sobs.com/2016/9083/itsthereal
NEW YORK CITY!!! NEXT MONTH, WE’RE HEADLINING AT THE FAMED MUSIC VENUE SOB’S!!!
We’re rapping our new songs, our classic songs, telling stories you’ve never heard before, and bringing special guests through!!
Tickets are the same price as a film, which is great CAUSE FEB. 23RD IS ABOUT TO BE A MOVIE!!! Tickets available here:
http://sobs.com/2016/9083/itsthereal
NEW YORK CITY!!! NEXT MONTH, WE’RE HEADLINING AT THE FAMED MUSIC VENUE SOB’S!!!
We’re rapping our new songs, our classic songs, telling stories you’ve never heard before, and bringing special guests through!!
Tickets are the same price as a film, which is great CAUSE FEB. 23RD IS ABOUT TO BE A MOVIE!!! Tickets available here:
http://sobs.com/2016/9083/itsthereal
NEW YORK CITY!!! NEXT MONTH, WE’RE HEADLINING AT THE FAMED MUSIC VENUE SOB’S!!!
We’re rapping our new songs, our classic songs, telling stories you’ve never heard before, and bringing special guests through!!
Tickets are the same price as a film, which is great CAUSE FEB. 23RD IS ABOUT TO BE A MOVIE!!! Tickets available here:
http://sobs.com/2016/9083/itsthereal
NEW YORK CITY!!! NEXT MONTH, WE’RE HEADLINING AT THE FAMED MUSIC VENUE SOB’S!!!
We’re rapping our new songs, our classic songs, telling stories you’ve never heard before, and bringing special guests through!!
Tickets are the same price as a film, which is great CAUSE FEB. 23RD IS ABOUT TO BE A MOVIE!!! Tickets available here:
http://sobs.com/2016/9083/itsthereal
NEW YORK CITY!!! NEXT MONTH, WE’RE HEADLINING AT THE FAMED MUSIC VENUE SOB’S!!!
We’re rapping our new songs, our classic songs, telling stories you’ve never heard before, and bringing special guests through!!
Tickets are the same price as a film, which is great CAUSE FEB. 23RD IS ABOUT TO BE A MOVIE!!! Tickets available here:
http://sobs.com/2016/9083/itsthereal
Man tries to make dog give @realDonaldTrump loyalty pledge
Yo, saw a good one today. A Trump supporter explained that Trump is only pretending to be racist to get support, and that's why he's supporting Trump. Do you think he knows he's racist?
People write to me all the time telling me that X or Y question on here is just me being taken in by a “troll,” someone who’s just saying racist stuff to get a reaction, but who “doesn’t really believe it.” I think that’s a major component in what’s wrong with a lot of racists and people who enable them: they think that there’s some kind of magical need for intent to be part of the equation, that one can’t simply be judged on your actions, or the effects of your speech.
Whether or not Trump “believes” what he’s saying, he’s empowering racists with his speech, who now believe they have a voice and a place in this country. And this gives them the courage and the community to perpetrate their racist acts (just look how they acted only yesterday).
Moreover, think about how racist you have to be to believe that using racist rhetoric to appeal to racists is OK, like you can play with racism because it’s just another tactic. Racism is a threat, to groups of people, and to simply think that you can make this threat, hurt people, and benefit from it, and that that requires some kind of intent or active malice in your heart makes you a fucking awful person. They seem to think “I just don’t give a shit about my racist actions” is some kind of defense.
If you’re some idiot who thinks that Trump is just using the odious tool of racism to get votes, what about him makes you think that even if he doesn’t “believe” in it, he’ll act anything other than exactly as he’s been campaigning (relative weakness of the Presidency in our system aside). You think he’s not going to govern as a fucking racist, sexist bigot? Why wouldn’t he?
The additional irony in this case is that the racists who love Trump always list the fact that he “speaks his mind” as one of the reasons they support him.
“Hey Look, Here’s Some Songs I Like” playlist, Vol. 6
Black Dave & Rich The Kid - Young Ignorant N***as
2 Milly - Milly Rock (feat. A$AP Ferg & Rick Ross)
Rowdy Rebel - Touchdown Plaxico (feat. A$AP Ferg)
Kevin Gates - Two Phones
The Weeknd - Low Life (feat. Future)
Curren$y & Corner Boy P - Cut It (ReDone It) (Remix)
Young Thug - Tie My Shoes (feat. Birdman)
Fabolous - The Plug
Lil Uzi Vert - Banned From TV
so i guess i'm going to spend my time photoshopping action bronson into renaissance paintings // via ItsTheReal
POC on the cover of Fader mazine
and like, 60 others...
Hanging out with the Stadium Goods crew at CJ Hendry’s studio. CJ bought these Air Mags, dipped them in house paint, photographed them, and drew the piece you see here in 10 days flat with pens. Unbelievable.
On Grantland
I was sitting in my office, it was after 8pm. Not unusual. I was assembling a package that would commemorate the recent death of Michael Jackson. (A ranking of his 100 best songs; sober essays about his complicated, maddening legacy; a deep look at how his family lived now; etc.) We’d just wrapped a photo shoot featuring Kobe Bryant and Lil Wayne, clutching the Larry O’Brien Trophy together — they would be the cover stars of Vibe’s annual Juice issue, our biggest of the year. This was always a tense time, and it was my third Juice issue. I was stressed, inhaling a burger and fries from a miserable diner around the way from the offices we’d recently located to in the financial district. (2008 was a fascinating time to move one’s office to Wall St.; unrelated: I’ve eaten approximately six burgers total since that night.) There were only four other people in the office that night, so I could hear my boss Danyel say to her assistant down the hall, in a manner that was not unfamiliar to me, “Go get Fenn.” Shirea came to my door, asked me to head down to Danyel’s corner office. I was already standing by the time Shirea arrived, and briskly walked down to see my editor-in-chief. I was wearing an orange thermal shirt. Like a gallumping pumpkin. Strident, young, dumb.
Danyel was a terrifying figure — as unafraid of the frank conversation as anyone I’ve known. Brilliant, too — she knew magazines, and rap, and storytelling, and gossip, and media, and so much about writing. She is the model for the editor-in-chief who can write you under the table. Novels, prize-winning profiles, criticism with the sharpness of ninja stars. It’s an aspirational style of editor-in-chief-ing that was more uncommon seven years ago than it is now. If your copy wasn’t good enough, she might look at you and say, “Fenn, c’mon. You know.” And you knew. I loved working for Danyel, despite the anarchy of late-period capitalism rap journalism. It was difficult trying to fill in the gaps of an idea that seemed so vital in, say, 1999. By 2007, it was becoming harder and harder to convince the world that it needed Vibe. We made a good magazine, but we also made mistakes. We put Plies on the cover once. (And it was a good issue.) But we also put Barack Obama on the cover many, many months before he became the presumptive Democratic candidate. We expanded the purview of music coverage and executed redesigns and said goodbye to crucial staffers and welcomed many other great ones. We wanted to be honest. We failed a lot.
So I came to see Danyel at 8pm or so, as I had on so many nights, and her expression was different. Blank, but broken. My colleague Ben was already in the room, sullen. “It’s done, Fenn,” Danyel said. “They’re closing it.” Tears in her eyes now.
Vibe was folding, immediately, because it’s a magazine, and that’s what they do. They start and they end, unless you’re lucky or lousy. We would tell the staff at 10am the next morning, all 40 or so people. (It’s always 40 or so people working at these things.) Mostly people under 30. I was 26, the Music Editor of a music magazine, not because I’d earned it but because the market forces compelled a child to hold that position. (My irreplaceable mentor left, I filled in.) I went home and told my fiancee, who would be my wife three months later. I told the small clutch of friends I trusted. I sat staring at a hole in the fence of my dilapidated backyard for at least two hours, in the dark, trying to figure out which feature I’d assigned that might have killed this enterprise once and for all. (“What if we’d targeted Rihanna for July 2007 instead of 50 Cent?”) The next morning, Danyel told those people, bravely and with more tears, that it was a wrap. The economy is cruel. The game is cold. We are over.
There was no answer for that. Heads fell, cubicles packed, and by 2pm, we vanished from that office forever. It’s not quite a fever dream — more like a waking nightmare with no end point. Vibe was powerful, especially in its halcyon days, the ones that made me want to be there in the first place. It became legendary, though its’ sheen has faded from memory. I never tasted glory there, though I tried so hard, with an incredible and inspired group of people to recreate it. Chasing ghosts.
When it folded, I was unmoored — desperate to replace the churn, the responsibility, the latent panic of making a publication. This work is meaningless, unless you do it, in which case, it’s more meaningful than anything barring your family.
***
Grantland was like Vibe in that it was the most important thing I’ll ever do, until the next thing. We yearn to crystallize the moment. Eulogies are a beautiful vehicle for emotion we can’t reconcile in our day-to-day. I worked even harder for Grantland than I did for Vibe. That’s not a value judgment on the experience, but it is a reality of contemporary media and what we perceived to be our mission. The people who worked at Grantland were profound talents. Astronomical. Also, kind. The biggest challenge you’ll find in this line of work is not “Ugh, this piece is a mess, let’s start over.” It’s “This first draft seems sort of perfect, is there actually anything wrong with it?” And the people that I worked with who were capable of the Impeccable First Draft were not arrogant about that — they were open-minded, thoughtful, engaged, desperate to improve. That’s a blessed professional environment. Grantland was an extraordinary circumstance, no matter your opinion. Supported by corporate largesse, until it wasn’t. Praised in that uniquely transient way, until it wasn’t. Glorious for the people who worked there, except when they were operating on 4 hours sleep with a bad attitude in a planning meeting. (Me.)
Grantland changed irrevocably in May, and that’s important for me to emphasize. Bill Simmons was a weathervane, and the tropical storms that consumed the region after his departure were unpredictable and unnerving. What happened to Grantland yesterday is the product of cosmically upsetting corporate maneuvering and I hate that, as I’ve hated it forever. It’s a reality, and the stuff of “On to the next one.” You get a chance, you make your chance, you go forward; you get heartbroken, you start again, because this feels valuable. What differentiated this experience for me, aside from my yearning to be close to something so eminently great, was that it lived up. We failed less. And even then, it was impermanent. I’m most grateful to the people who made it, and also to the people who cared about it. To everyone who concern-trolled the people who worked at the site about its goals or its traffic, I hope you’re stoked? We always did as well as we could.
The people who were connected to Grantland have my love and respect. Strident, young, dumb, and great.
Last Thursday night, hip-hop sketch comedians Eric and Jeff Rosenthal, collectively known as ItsTheReal, teamed with clothing powerhouse Rocawear to present a hilarious and ambitious one-evening, two performance event: The YOLONO Tour (You Only Live One Night Only). The first set, ItsTheReal was backed by DJ Manny Mills; the second set featured a full band, led by Greg Mayo. Following the huge success of their July show at New York City’s Neuehouse, ItsTheReal took their talents up the street to the Red Room at the Gansevoort Park NYC. The room was packed for both shows with influencers, tastemakers, media and entertainers from across the internet. Highlights included: - Legendary southern rapper Bun B flying in from Houston to perform ItsTheReal’s “Girls with the Dirty Souths” and UGK’s “International Player’s Anthem” - Harlem’s own Smoke DZA performing his collaboration with ItsTheReal, “Sugar High” - Grammy Award-winning singer and songwriter Bridget Kelly beginning the evening with a stirring rendition of our national anthem, only slightly interrupted by DJ Manny Mills’ air horn drops - Hip-Hop hall of famer DJ Clark Kent hit the stage to present ItsTheReal with a plaque for selling out The YOLONO Tour (a free two-concert, one-night, one-location tour with 500+ RSVPs) - One quarter of the super-group Slaughterhouse, Joell Ortiz jumping on stage to represent for Brooklyn - Coney Island’s favorite rapper / SiriusXM host Torae being called up to help ItsTheReal with a verse on their ode to bringing New York back, “Time Machine” - Former Ruff Ryders artist and legendary 106 & Park Freestyle Friday champion MC Jin killed the stage with a hilarious freestyle, followed by a story about the first time he met DMX - Queen of the Hip-Hop Internets Miss Info hosted a 10-minute Q&A in between sets where ItsTheReal broke the group up (Eric left to find religion; Jeff to record his long-awaited Reggaeton album), got back together (money talks), and decided to continue on into the second show.
