The very thought of watching live performances from dead artists is excitingly creepy. Tupac’s Coachella hologram has sparked unlimited conversation regarding the future of our concert-going experiences. Joe “Cash a Check” Jackson has been teasing the press with a Jackson 5/MJ reunion tour. I’ve been joking that if they make a James Brown or Freddie Mercury hologram I am SO there.

All jokes aside, what about the deeper, less capitalistic aspects of what these holograms actually represent? What about the Peace we claim to want our fallen folks to Rest in?

When I was younger, I was able to obtain my late father’s diaries — they were pretty interesting reads. He had everything in there: personal accounts of his time in the armed forces, unfinished songs, fantastic sci-fi stories, and other treasures. There were even talks of publishing a few of his works, but it really didn’t sit well with a number of people in my family. To be honest with you, it didn’t sit well with me, either.

Back then I really didn’t understand why it bothered me so much. It’s crazy to admit, but not until all this Tupac hologram commentary did I really start thinking deeply about the true concept of legacy after death.

True legacy. In the present case, our digital lives after death.

Sure, they tell artists that our art lives on after we go. This is undoubtedly true. But what about Frank Sinatra? What about Nat King Cole? What about ‘Pac? What about the Biggie verses placed on beats after his death? What about ‘Pac’s song choice at Coachella? What if my family ultimately decided to publish my Dad’s work after his death? What would he have wanted the world to know? What would be off limits? What choices are “right”?

If nothing else, it’s just another thing to consider when composing your Last Will and Testament.

Too long, really. I’ve felt a bit overwhelmed recently, trying to continue to hold things together here and also juggle a number of other of life’s obligations.

Either way, I knew that this site — this magazine — this culture — this movement — was way too important to just cast off. Not after all we’ve done. Not after how far we’ve come.

So, today, I’m proud to announce the launch of our new website design. The #NewAGM is bigger, bolder, and better than ever. We’ve positioned ourself as a site to become even better, cover more content, and engage on a whole new level with those of you out there that have come to know and love us.

Admittedly, this new design is probably far from perfect. And, some of our new features are probably still acting up a bit. I’m working on the kinks now (did you know that when I’m not penning pieces on rappers, I spend my time sifting through PHP code?)

Bare with us in this (hopefully short) time of transition. Everything will be ironed out in time.

Also, if you could, please help us spread the word. Tell your friends — especially the ones that love hip hop — about #NewAGM, help us grow, and help us get better.

Cheers, and thanks for all of the support.

-TH

Historically the recording of an album would carry with it substantial costs, and to record a good quality project the artist would need money invested into it and would therefore go to a record label. The label would give the artist an advance; a quantity of money which the artist was expected to use to create the album. The advance given by the label would be recouped from sales and royalties before the artist got to see any income from these revenues, and largely the advance would never be recouped, meaning that artists rarely made a lot of money from selling their recordings. Revenue streams such as radio/performance royalties, live performances, synchronizations (licensing your music to TV/film/video games) and brand sponsorships are generally a lot more fruitful to the artist than album sales.

Technological advancements have made it possible to record and digitally distribute an album for next to nothing, therefore allowing upcoming artists to bypass the traditional “label route” and release digitally without worrying about manufacturing and distribution costs. So independant artists are now able to release an album without worrying about trying to recoup money invested in them by a label, which is where the choice between free or retail comes into play.

A lot of artists (quite rightly) think that due to the amount of work and time that has gone into the album, that they should be rewarded financially for their work. This can sometimes lead them into the trap of charging $10/£5 for their project on iTunes/BandCamp, often selling about 20 units to their family members and close friends and making a quick $200/£100 but blocking their career from moving on any further.

Due to the amount of excellent free music available, fans are now very particular about spending money on a project. Look at it from their point of view; they’ve likely never heard of you before, why would they risk their money on your project, when established artists like J. Cole, Wiz Khalifa, Curren$y, Big K.R.I.T, Kendrick Lamar, Wale, Odd Future, 9th Wonder’s Jamla artists and many others all have full original projects available online for free. Many of these artists are now selling a lot of units, but they all started out releasing free music to establish themselves, and have reaped the rewards in the long term.

Your aim when releasing music should be first and foremost to get people to hear it, charging them for the pleasure is definitely an obstacle that should be avoided, especially with your first few projects (Actual Proof of Jamla Records told me that they usually work on a formula of three free releases before the fans know and follow an artist enough to be charged for a project). Many artists have used the model of releasing a few solid projects independently online before either releasing a independently released retail download via iTunes (e.g. Kendrick Lamar, Dom Kennedy, Smoke DZA) or a retail album (e.g. Wiz Khalifa, Drake, Tyler The Creator) and this model seems to be working well, with all of these artists eventually becoming very successful via this model.

It is also important to remember that, as I mentioned at the start of the article, revenue streams such as radio/performance royalties, live performances, synchronizations and brand sponsorships are a lot better for you if you are able to access them, and this will only come by getting your music out there and letting people hear it. These revenue streams are all accessible from a free project, whilst keeping a happy fan base who don’t have to pay to download your album (but will very likely buy a ticket to see you perform live, and purchase some merchandise while they are there).

One of my major gripes with up-and-comers is the fact that they often expect to be able to build up the hype to make their first project to do So Far Gone, The Warm-Up or Kush & OJ numbers. I usually get at least an email per day asking to be interviewed by an artist who only has one or two singles online, in the hope that they will build up a following who can’t wait to download their debut project. The fact is that all of these “instant success” mixtape releases have been preceded by tapes that even now, many people aren’t aware of, that introduced them to a fan base, who helped push the artists to a platform that allowed them to generate enough hype to crash Twitter. I can’t interview someone on the basis of a single, without the interview coming off generic and dry, as I don’t know enough about the artists, and therefore refuse every one of these requests. It is a much better strategy (in my eyes at least) to get a project out there, so that you can approach bloggers/journalists/friends/family/people sitting next to you on the bus and give them a project which tells them what you are about, and demonstrates exactly what you do, and how good you are at it. Getting a project in circulation is the only way you are going to be able to build enough hype to get huge download numbers. Nobody does it off the first one (and definitely not until it’s been out for a while and people have heard about it).

There are also a couple of alternatives that could bring in some revenue without affecting the accessibility of your music. The first one being Bandcamp’s “Choose Your Price” option, which allows you to set a minimum, and fans can decide how much they’d be willing to pay for your music. My recommendation here would be to set the minimum cost as zero, meaning that your music is still available as a free download, and is therefore there is no reason for fans to avoid it, but in a lot of cases (due, I find, to guilt) many people will pay a few dollars/pounds, meaning you can potentially generate a bit of income, whilst getting your music out there. Another model, which has been successful for Top Dawg Ent (Kendrick Lamar, Schoolboy Q, Ab-Soul, Jay Rock) is to release the project on iTunes, then drop it for free (with a couple of tracks missing) a couple of weeks later. The only issue with this, is that you could possibly annoy your loyal and paying fan base (which happened with me when Kendrick’s O.D. dropped, and again when Q’s Setbacks came out — having said that I am still a big fan of both artists). A third possibility would be this in reverse, many artists have released a project for free first, then put out a “deluxe” version on iTunes (or even physically) at a later date with a few extra tracks and some better mixing.

As you can see, strategies for releasing music these days are a lot more varied than they once were, and whilst I understand the attraction of a quick bit of income, I’d urge new artists to consider their long term career when deciding whether to price their project, or whether to just release it to the Internet and just allow people to listen to it. With a bit of online promotion and a free download, if your project is good, people will hear about it, and you will have a much more prosperous career ahead of you. Once you’ve released a few projects, and are happy about the size of your fan base and a confident about the number of people that you believe will be willing to pay for the album, then by all means, prepare for a retail release, and hopefully your hard work will pay off!

One of the first blogs I did for aboveGround was a “top” 10 list of female rappers. You can imagine how much trouble that got me into. I think I still get angry calls about that one.

So in the interest of more controversy, here is another list, one that I’m sure will bring an equal and hilarious amount of criticism. Here is my shit list of female rappers. These girls have done nothing but bring female rappers into the forefront of suckdom.

Before I continue, I just have to say, if you are offended by the title of this blog in any way, you probably take yourself too seriously and when I see you I’m gonna kick you in the crotch. Very, very, very, very hard.

Let’s begin!

1. Khia

You know, the “my neck, my back” chick. Doesn’t ring a bell? Well, her debut came out a long time ago, and when it did, she likened it to “Women’s Empowerment ” by exclaiming a nigga should be licking her pussy. And her crack. Don’t call it women’s empowerment just because you want to slut it up. Geez.

Khia was also on this reality show called “Miss Rap Supreme”, misrepresenting right along with VH1. She was catty and brash and got kicked off for spitting old lyrics. What a rapper girl. These days, You can catch Kia in the dirty alleys of Worldstar, talking shit about the industry. Whatevs. I will only remember Khia for her big tits, fake feminism and terrible raps. Pussy. And crack.

2. Kreayshawn / V-Nasty

They are obviously two names here, but put them together and they may equal one person..

These days, many artists, and especially rappers, can enjoy ridiculous amounts of exposure and kudos without actually having a catalogue. With one song and tons of hanging-out scenarios, Kreay and V have formed a “White Girl Mob”, complete with promethazine, door knocker earrings and for miss Nasty, a fucked up habit of dropping the N-Bomb while repping white girls hard. Now, if I were alot younger and on many more drugs I might think the music they offer up is dope. But I don’t think that. I think the music is trendy poop.
Also, I’m not really super offended by a trashy-esque white girl saying the N-word, I just think it’s highly irresponsible. And if I were to get called that by a white girl whom I can rap better than face to face? I don’t know man…she just better hope she caught me on a nice day. Chances are those two are gonna go down. For being racially irresponsible. And stupid.

3. Li’l Mama

Aye girl I’m gonna go a little easy on you because when you came out that shit was hot. “Lip Gloss”, while gimmicky and corny as FUCK, showcased that you had a raw ass talent. Thought you were gonna go far, girl.

But now what? 1.5 records in a zillion years? She jumped on stage with Jay-Z, said Nicki stole her style, and the music is no where to be found. More music and less stunting, please. You don’t win the right to pull stunts when you’re a judge on America’s Best Dance Crew, and not in the recording studio. Mario “AC Botox” Lopez got you faded anyway. I just want you to get it together girl. Oh, and I like the way you stood up to Charlamagne the God on the radio, too. He’s got women issues up the ass and you didn’t let him butcher you. But since you’re the “voice of the youth”, you need to give the kids some music. Before your name is ‘Older Mama’.

4. (The New) Li’l Kim

Now, before you start bitching, I am considering Li’l Kim post “Magic Stick”. Li’l Kim before that record was ok with me. I mean, the oversexed, gold-digging chick is not my idea of great rap music, and you can’t deny that Biggie helped her tremendously with her tunes, but I have always recognized her place among the greats. Since her multiple plastic surgeries and (again) battles with other female rappers, in addition to her music taking a complete nose dive in quality, she’s getting the thumbs down so HARD from me. I think it might be all over for her. Diddy needs to take the wheel.

5. Nick Minaj

She’s a wild card for me. I think she has done so much for us women artists in the last couple of years that I can’t knock her hustle. But she should stop trying to pretend she’s this underground female rapper. She’s a pop cartoon and she does what she’s told. Her actual talent doesn’t shine. She goes on tour and gives lap dances. That ain’t hip hop.

And that’s all I’ll say about that.

Have I left any out? I’m sure I have. Let me know in the comment section and we can talk about it. Let’s kick some more crotches.

But, really, my question is: Is that a valid definition for what hip hop is today? Should we continue to cling to the original definition or should it be expanded to include a broader cultural canon? Maybe more-so than what “is” hip hop, the question should be, what pertains to hip hop.

I really hadn’t pondered this in too much detail (except for at one point when I raised the question whether or not skateboarding had infiltrated hip hop culture to our Twitter followers about a year ago) until recently. I heard something pretty interesting, something that made me reconsider my views and interpretations.

I saw an interview with Nas where he was talking about the early days of rap on the radio and recording songs on cassette tapes. He was listing off songs that he remembers as his favorite rap songs from the time when he mentioned something entirely unexpected — “We Will Rock You” by Queen.

Nas said that “We Will Rock You” by Queen was a rap record. It floored me.

Not so much in the sense that I thought, “he’s wrong!” But, more-so in the sense that it made me think about things in an entirely new light. After all, if Nas — one of the greatest to ever do it — said that Queen put out a rap record, who the hell am I to argue the fact?

From then on, I started thinking more about the larger definition of hip hop culture and the way that our editorial coverage has been expanding as of late. (If you haven’t noticed, we’ve begun to cover certain movies, games, technology, skateboarding, art and other cultural things we feel are closely related, if not ingrained, into the modern-day interpretation of hip hop culture).

After all, think about it. While comic books and super heroes really hold no weight in the original definition of hip hop culture — although it can be argued that they relate to graffiti in some ways — it’s obvious that a huge number of hip hop heads (or, hip hop nerds, if you will) have an attachment to the stories of Superman, Batman, Spider-Man and other popular comic book characters. So, even though it’s not one of the “original four” elements, comics and graphic novels have, in some ways, grown into the culture.

It’s not like in this modern day and age people are sitting around only doing or thinking things that are explicitly outlined as “hip hop” in nature. We’re diverse people, and hip hop has become a diverse culture. For better or worse, it seems unavoidable for a publication like ours — one that has always championed artistic expression and vintage ethos — to expand our horizons to some extent.

Hopefully it’s for the better. I think it is. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be doing it. I know that I consider myself a product of hip hop culture (whatever that means exactly) and I enjoy things other than just MCing, DJing, breaking and graffiti art. I like other types of modern art, video games, movies, skateboarding, comics and anything that I grew up with an affinity for.

I think the question “what makes it hip hop?” is actually solved by answering the question, “who makes it hip hop?”.

Hip hop was founded as a culture of the underprivileged, the poor, the outnumbered and the creative. It was about expression and creativity. Art and culture. Imagination. But, it was grounded by the limited resources available to those in poverty, which meant it was about making due and making something out of nothing.

I think that’s the thing that really binds together the elements of modern-day hip hop culture. It’s not about race or location. It’s about creating culture and art from nothing, finding beauty in the barest of places.

Where do you find beauty?

For many artists I believe that the need for a label deal really has to do with status; signing with a label gives them some sense of validation. And to a degree this works — if an artist tells you they are signed to a major label, you instantly assume that they are good, otherwise how would they have gotten a deal? However, is there an alternative to this route?

I think it’s important to look at the idea of a record label as b.eing like a bank, rather than a brand or a crew. The idea is that the label invests money into your business venture (i.e your recordings) and you pay back your loan to them in the form of royalties and record sales. The reason you’d traditionally go to a label is because you’d need the cash to create the album, for studio space, access to technology, producers, etc and being that music is such a high-risk business venture, you wouldn’t be able to convince the banks to give you a loan, as they would see it as unlikely that they’d ever get their money back. However, now with advancements in technology, it is relatively cheap to create an album using a laptop and a microphone, and easy enough to get in touch with potential collaborators via social networking sites. Beats can be emailed to artists, artists can record, recordings can be passed on to guest artists for a contribution, etc, and the whole process is very cheap and can produce outstanding results (if done well).

What the label does still bring of course is advertising, marketing and promotion of the album, as well as their contacts, but it is important to bare in mind that for this they instantly take almost 90% of your earnings from everything (including merchandise and live shows if you are in a 360 deal, which these days you most likely would be). The alternative is to put it out yourself (digitally via the usual distributors like iTunes, Amazon and Bandcamp, or if it’s a free release consider specific “hip-hop digital distribution” services like DatPiff or DJ Booth’s distribution service, or for physical releases find a good place to get your album pressed cheaply and sell through an online service like BigCartel, or look for a distribution deal), which requires lower sales figures to achieve the same earnings (since you’d own a lot more of what comes in, depending on what your deals are with producers, featured artists etc, and remember iTunes takes 35%). It is always a possibility to employ someone to market/promote you (possibly even in exchange for a percentage of your royalties/sales, if they are willing to take that deal).

Recent examples of independent success stories are Curren$y’s Pilot Talk II (released independently on DD172/BluRoc) beating the first week sales of Soulja Boy’s The DeAndre Way which received heavy promotion from Def Jam, and Tech N9ne’s All 6′s And 7′s reaching number 4 on the Billboard 200. Of course they are both on labels, but it still demonstrates the possibility of an outstanding response to projects with no major label backing. Odd Future have recently proven how lucrative self distribution can be, selling out tours all around the world due to their extensive free discography available from their website. Even Jay-Z is now signed to a tour promotions company (Live Nation) rather than striking a deal with a label. The music industry has blown open, and the possibilities are endless.

If you do decide to go down the “record label” route and manage to get signed then don’t be fooled into thinking that you have made it and no longer need to put in work (although this is, of course, an achievement and should be celebrated), building your brand/ fanbase, promoting yourself and putting out a ton of music to stay relevant is still your job. The labels generally won’t do this for you, and will probably only become interested in helping out once you prove to them that your project is going to be profitable. It is also important to make sure the labels and their politics don’t take over and ruin your project (like Lupe Fiasco and Atlantic).

I’m not saying avoid labels and don’t get signed, as they are ultimately there to help the music industry and to get music out. What I am saying is that perhaps artists should try to consider other ways of getting their music out independently and reap larger rewards once they do succeed. It’s not all about record labels and getting signed anymore, and this avenue only really seems to benefit artists who have major pop potential, as you need to sell millions of records to see any money come back in…

Are you still interested in this blog after you realize there will be no T&A in it? Of course you are!!!

A while ago I made this statement: sometimes when a person leaks their own naked photos, it isn’t necessarily a cry for help from our latest slut with daddy issues. Sometimes, it’s just an attempt to stay relevant.

Who would Kim K., Amber Rose or Bishop Eddie Long be without naked photos? Ok, wait. Scratch that last one. But honestly…when your talent leaves something to be desired, and your fame is relatively short lived, you know you better be “accidentally” letting photos of your vagina and penis and booty GO. If not, your 15 minutes are up.

Now, some celebrities don’t even *need* to leak photos, but in this age of Aquarius, the old adage “All press is good press” is more true than ever before.

I once told one of my favorite (female) rappers that we need to do a sex tape. I mean, it would be all music but think of all the downloads from people thinking it was gonna be this hot sweaty sexy lesbian romper room free-for-all, with rapping females!!!?!!! The publicity would be pretty radical, IMO!

But…It’s awfully sad this is still the norm, and what’s even sadder is some people leak photos, and it doesn’t help their careers at all! Talk about failing miserably. It used to be you could maybe call up Playboy or Hustler magazine and at least get those titties in print…now you’re getting clicks. Clicks for clits.

And what of leaked music????

Alright, here’s something for ya: To celebrate the August 30 release of my new road tape, Get in the Van 3, I am giving you a song early. My remix to the midwest classic “RPM”, originally done by Shawnna.

Psalm One – RPM

And since I’m feeling so generous, I want to offer the prequel, Get in the Van 2 for free on my bandcamp page.

It’s available in 2 downloads: DL 1—> http://psalmone.bandcamp.com/album/get-in-the-van-2-pt-1

and DL 2—–> http://psalmone.bandcamp.com/album/get-in-the-van-2-pt-2

Enjoy!

I think at this point in the music game of life, leaked photos are often worth more to a musician than leaked music. Some people leak music that is so bad, there is no way they could ever get anyone to buy something! This gives leaked music kind of a bad name.

The good thing is, some of your favorite artists understand that grabbing your attention isn’t necessarily the same thing that will keep your attention. I am very aware of this. And while I want your attention just as much as that big nipped Amber Rose (the Rose is wilting, btw) I am only willing to use my gifts of music to stay in your life.

I hope this is okay with you.

Get in the Van 3 is coming 8/30/2011. Tell 10 friends.

Best,

Psalmie

What makes an album a “classic”?

Note: The word “classic” could be interpreted in a number of ways, for the sake of this article, I’m using the word to describe an album that will be regarded a classic in the eyes of general music listeners regardless of the genre they listen to or the culture they are involved in, think the kind of people who might read Rolling Stone, NME or Billboard, rather than avid readers of hip-hop blogs and publications (i.e. you). For example, no matter what you like, it would be hard to deny that Nirvana’s Nevermind is a classic body of work, whereas a lot of people might argue that Bleach (their debut) is better, it hasn’t had the same impact on pop culture. I will also use the term “underground classic” to refer to something that, although a brilliant record, hasn’t directly impacted a wider culture directly, for example El-P’s I’ll Sleep When You’re Dead. For those of you who despise labels, I apologize in advance, it’s just to help outline what I’m looking at within the article!

1. Quality

Obviously one of the factors is the quality of the LP; bad albums rarely receive “classic” status, unless they are somehow culturally significant, likely relating to nostalgia or context as opposed to the quality of the output. But, what interests me is the other elements that I think are involved in becoming “classic.”

2. Time

Another of the major factors in becoming a classic is time, even an instant classic can only be observed years after it’s release. Even the word itself suggests a period of time has past. I personally can’t think of anything that is undoubtedly a classic in the past ten years, the last classic that springs to mind for me is Jay-Z’s Blueprint, although there has of course been albums that I’d say are currently on the boundary of the “classic” status; Outkast’s Speakerboxx/The Love Below, Lil’ Wayne’s Tha Carter 3, 50 Cent’s Get Rich Or Die Tryin perhaps…

3. Success

Unfortunately commercial success is a huge factor in bagging the “classic” status outside of the hip-hop culture. And, the three albums I just mentioned came to mind when considering which albums from the past ten years might be classics, are by no means the “best” albums necessarily, but their success have allowed them to alter the status quo of how people view hip-hop music and it’s boundaries in some way or other, even if simply because, like 50 Cent’s album, they sold so many copies that they introduced a whole new generation to the genre. Some of my favourite albums are way better than these (in my opinion, of course) but I don’t think, say, Atmosphere’s GodLovesUgly would necessarily be considered a “classic” (perhaps an “underground classic”, though) simply because it hasn’t reached enough ears to be able to gain such a status.

4. Originality

“Classic” albums also usually bring something new to the table, whether it be conceptually, stylistically or sonically, it is rare nowadays that a straight up “boom bap” record is really going to go down in history as a classic album, as people will generally resort to the pioneering LPs of the sound (i.e. Gang Starr, Nas’ Illmatic, etc). This is why I feel like there are a tonne of underground albums that are almost faultless, but won’t be remembered as classics in the future, due to the fact that they didn’t have that extra push.

Before I get an inbox full of messages disgusted at the fact that I cited Get Rich Or Die Tryin as a possible future classic over GodLovesUgly or in defence of your favourite artist’s LP, please consider that what I’m discussing here isn’t about which album is the best, but more so questioning what the “classic” status might mean, on a wider scale rather than just personal favourites and underground (or cult) classics. and of course, as usual these is all just my own thoughts and opinions.

Yes, I went to “the club” last night, and had a blast. But before that I was outside, with old friends and complete strangers, having the best time ever.

Cooking outdoors with loved ones is one of my favorite things to do. As a younger girl, I was quite the little chubbster, so the food was my main attraction. Sure, getting fawned over by family and having a few dollars pressed into my little hands by generous Uncles and Aunts always put a smile on my face. But there was just something about those burgers on the grill, yo…

A few guy friends in college tried to prove to me they could BBQ. Burnt on the outside, pink on the inside. Not a good look for chicken parts. We got grilled food often at U of I, but it wasn’t really the type that warrants you to smack your mother.

Epic food gets Mom slapped, right? Epic Cookouts aka Barbecues are few and far between in my life. I’ve been searching for one all Summer. And I found my first one yesterday.

Nestled on the South Side of Lake Michigan, on 55th Street in Chicago, is a place lovingly known as “The Point”. If you’ve never been there, I will refer you to the classic Common video, “I Used To love H.E.R.”, set in my city.

Many of the outdoor shots, and most certainly the ones by water and huge rocks, are shot at the Point. Many classic Chicago artists earned their hip hop stripes at the Point; learning how to cypher, how to battle, how to breakdance, and how to interact with other like-minded creative individuals. Myself included.

These days, I wish the youngins had a place like that to hone their skills and play. They could really benefit from it.

By the early 2000′s, the Point was no longer as frequented by heads trying to get their hip hop fix. But the Point will always remain a soft-spot for people from Chicago like myself. And yesterday, a childhood friend (@DonPhenom) held his 7th annual “Friends and Family” BBQ there. Where have I been the previous 6 years? Ha ha…

I hadn’t been to the Point in so many years, and as soon as I walked up I knew this is exactly what I’d been craving. There was plenty of drink, plenty of deliciously-prepared BBQ, Black people peacefully enjoying themselves, great music, and old friends. And when we pulled the foil back on the pan of macaroni and cheese? Sighs of relief and satisfaction for the yummy side dish. These are the times we cherish.

I am pleased that I reconnected with friends I hadn’t seen in years, talked to a few fans who spotted me in my pretty Birthday dress, ate deliciously smoked and charred meats, got rolled up on by the Chicago Police, emerged unscathed, and exchanged at least 75 hugs.

There is a feeling at these types of events that is almost unexplainable. It is grateful, it is loving, and even if you don’t share a bloodline with the folks hosting, you feel like family. And if you act like family, that’s what you’ll be.

So, I implore all of you to get to a REAL cookout this year. One where you trust all the side dishes, there is at least one drunk Uncle, there is at least 5 people sneaking off to do God knows what, there are at least a dozen bad ass kids running around with kool-aid smiles, some tasty beverages, even better grilled meats, and maybe even a little Psalm One on the playlist.

Bon Appetit!

I say this knowing full well that it seems to run contrary to the title of my blog. But, really, it doesn’t. Because, as things have grown more social — social networks, social gaming, social whatever — it seems that people have actually started to become more isolated. The more gadgets and widgets and walls and chats that we have available to connect us to each other — and in turn, the more that we stay constantly connected to each other in the technological sense — the less that we actually connect with each other in the social sense. It’s sort of like waiting in line to see the newest movie when you have a job at the movie theater; why would you go out of your way to do something now that seems like it will inevitably happen later?

And, in a world where music is as present and obtainable as UV rays, that means that despite these tools that would, in theory, advance the shared experience of music listening and music discovery, people — as individuals — have begun to forge their own musical paths. Picking up a record here, an MP3 there, and molding a collection that makes them entirely distinct.

The problem, though, is that the technology of social isn’t the same thing as the reality of social. And, because of this, even though more and more things are being prefaced with the word, less and less interactions are actually of the social variety.

Case in point, when sharing music used to consist of inviting all of your friends over to listen to the newest record (as in vinyl) from The Beatles or The Rolling Stones, this was undeniably social. While I’m admittedly too young to remember the era when this was common place, I can image that the episode went something like this:

You call up four or five of your friends to let them know you’ve just picked up a brand new copy of A Hard Day’s Night or Led Zepplin II or Electric Ladyland. You gush over how awesome the record looks — without probably even removing it from the packaging yet — and tell them each to come over immediately to listen to your newest purchase. Each of your friends returns the admiration, explaining that they had heard from so-and-so about the album and that it was spectacular. Thirty minutes later, all of your friend have arrived at your apartment and you prepare to begin the ritual of imbibing a new vinyl record. Everyone gathers around your record player — probably sitting on plush shag carpeting cross-legged, forming a circle — and watch intently as you remove the packaging and extract the black, flat disc from its sleeve. You try to calm your anxiousness and slowly place the album gently on top of the rubber mat, perfectly positioning the needle and then finally, triumphantly pressing the play button.

You all listen. No one speaks. Each of you takes turns admiring the record cover, passing it from hand to hand around your circle. You read the liner notes and take in all the information you can about the record.

Later, when the record has finished playing, you all discuss and analyze each piece of music that you just experienced. You break it down and build it up, referring to the cover and the liner notes to defend each accusation you make about its quality or origin.

And, from then on, that piece of music and the experience of taking it in and dissecting it has become a part of you.