players

I was at a dilla tribute party last year at a spot deep in queen west and the dj had gone through your "typical" dilla standards and the amazing samples that provided the inspiration. The crew I was with was dropping hints to the dj it was that time, the party was dying down the crowd had filtered and a few loyal supporters were remaining at the bar and a couple tables. dj finally dropped the record, a collective cheer/sigh went up and at that moment, strangers became family, drinks in the air, drunken staggers morphed into rhythmic two-steps, we acknowledged the DJ and stumbled out into the crisp winter night hooded and goosed up… players.

One of my fav things to do is drive or venture on foot or bike around the city while most of it sleeps. Driving slow, as Kanye West once put it, is a practice that meets at the intersection of deep contemplation and casual observation. Driving with no direction down empty lit streets and letting whatever the vibe of the moment be your guide. Players by Slum Village is often the soundtrack for those moments, the subdued, the laid back vibe of nighttime.

We don’t care how or where

we end up there, wherever it may be

no compass or telescope

but finding depth in one word answers

and finding common ground with

exotic dancers

fully clothed

curbside dividing cab fare

stretching a dollar

after stretching for dollars

no discrimination, all colours

lipstick and collars

blue and white speeding thru the red

while we wait for green

posers provide the inspiration

no racing, embracing the slow but steady

save the ready set go for rush hours

There’s power in patience

And patients suffering insomnia

gazing out of window panes

gazing at the caddy in adjacent

lane

gazing at the amazing way

midnight plays the blues

the crew cruises through

smoke stacks and ascends

like wind off the lake

we relate, debate, and laugh it off

drive off solemn in stewardship

players…