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One of my first music industry friends was a gentleman by the name of Antonio Hardy, better known as Big Daddy Kane. And although we were from rival crews, we still managed to establish a great friendship. Kane and I met in 1987 at a popular Harlem nightclub called The Rooftop. The Rooftop was the place where all of the hustlers partied and popped champagne and the only yellow bottles rappers were popping were bottles of Old English 800, also known as Old Gold.

There was the time when, while riding the subway together on our way to Brooklyn on a snowy winter night, Kane pulled from his pocket a sheet of loose-leaf paper. As he unfolded the paper, I notice that what he was holding was a sheet with unfinished lyrics. Kane looked over at me, and with his deep monotone voice, he said, “D, check this out. Rapper’s stepping to me, they wanna get some. But I’m the Kane, so, yo you know the outcome. Another victory. They can’t get with me, so pick a B.C. date ‘cause you’re history." Those were the lyrics to what ended up being his signature recording, “Ain’t No Half Steppin’.”

During the train ride, Kane asked me if I would join him on stage as his hype man for his performance during Amateur Night at the Apollo Theater, where he was the special guest that evening. I agreed to do so. After exiting the subway, we immediately headed to his apartment to ask his father if he could borrow his car for the evening. After borrowing his father’s old Cadillac, we headed to the Apollo Theater. No more than three blocks away from his apartment, Kane made a left turn and lost control of the vehicle. The car did a 360 spin and we crashed into a dumpster. And just like a true concerned friend, the first thing he said to me was, “D, don’t tell anyone”. What a friend!

Posted by D-Nice at 04:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (30)

Now, this guy was either too young to know, or too old and senile to remember, that in my past life, I was a rapper;  and that I intentionally said my name 32 times in one song so that people would never forget who I was and what I did.  I looked him in his eyes and with that old Bronx b-boy dialect; I quoted that great Negro poet Bone Crusher and said, “Yo B, I ain’t neva scared!” I grabbed my CDs, walked over to the side of the stage, and patiently waited for my chance to return….cause like I said – I have DJ-itis and I can DJ ALL NIGHT LONG!

I will be the first to admit that Biz was playing great music that night.  He started with an old school disco set that included “I Will Survive” by Gloria Gaynor and “Good Times” by Chic. He then played at least an hour of today’s hip-hop and r&b before taking a break while Alicia Keys introduced her artist Shawn Kane. After Shawn’s performance, Biz returned and played 30 minutes of “Crunk” music before going into his “Remember This” set.  For those of you that have been privy to the Biz Markie experience, you know exactly what I’m talking about. This is when Biz will stop the music in between songs and ask the crowd, “Do you remember this?” and play a familiar old school tune.

He showed his ass that night! Well, not literally, although he did show his STOMACH! After playing back-to-back old school hip-hop songs for 30 minutes, he ended his set by pulling up his shirt and DJing with his new VH1’s Celebrity Fitness Club stomach, which by the way, closely resembles his old B.E.T.’s Rap City stomach. The crowd was in a frenzy!

I returned to the set with one mission in mind, “ROCK THE PARTY!” I grabbed the microphone and yelled “Give it up for Biz-Mar-kie!” The crowd went crazy.  After the applause was over, I decided to reintroduce myself. I played a string of 4 hip-hop classics, which caught everyone’s attention. I then realized that no other DJ played rock & roll or classic soul music that night, so I stopped the music and did my own version of “remember this.”  I explained to everyone that “Old School” is not just about hip-hop and played a familiar song that was created by a group of Jacksonville natives. With guitar lead from Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Sweet Home Alabama played loudly through the speakers, the crowd was ecstatic! At that point I knew I could do no wrong.

After a brief rock set which included songs by Pink Floyd, Rod Stewart and David Bowie, I went into a classic soul set. This is when everyone partied hard! When the piano for the Jackson 5’s “I Want You Back” was heard, the crowd totally lost it! I was in a musical zone. I played everything from The Spinners “I’ll Be Around” to The O’Jays’ “I Love Music”. I ended the classic soul set with Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On.” Couples flocked to the stage and slow danced behind me. I played a few more songs and then we had to end the party. After hearing a round of applause from the partygoers, I knew my mission was complete. I ROCKED THE PARTY! While exiting the stage, there was one last song going through my mind, The Theme from Rocky… Now let’s find Adrienne!

Posted by D-Nice at 01:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (11)

It had been more than 13 years since I’d last stood on a stage in front of a large audience, so as I looked out at the venue ESPN The Magazine was having their Friday Night Super Bowl party at, the Merrill House, in Jacksonville, FL, I began to get nervous.
 
The spot could hold more than 750 people, inside and out… ESPN The Magazine had transformed the converted church into a log cabin. The interior was decorated with bear skin rugs, several couches, two bars, and at least 10 plasma screens that displayed video footage of burning logs to create that cabin atmosphere. Although I do feel that this was sacrilegious, there was something extremely sexy about the décor.
 
Right outside of the Merrill House, under a huge tent, was the staging area - this was the main party area. The DJ table was set up directly in the center of the stage.  As I walked up the steps, I found myself becoming extremely nauseous. All of the symptoms pointed to one thing; I was coming down with a bad case of the sissies!
 
Hold on!  No, I’m not a sissy! But, like I said, I hadn’t been in front of that many people in a long time, and since we have yet to see rappers perform on a Las Vegas stage, I thought my days of performing in front of throngs of people were over. But there I was, feeling like an old retired boxer slipping on the gloves one last time, except in this case, the gloves were replaced with headphones.   In order to get through this, I started thinking to myself, “What do I have to be nervous of? I am the hip-hop version of George Forman and this is my shot at getting my own D-Nice Grill!”
 
With my head right and being ready to get my “grill on”…I prepared for my set!  I was scheduled to DJ from 9 p.m. until 11 p.m.  Alicia Keys was to take the stage at 11 and introduce her new artist Shawn Kane, who was expected to do an hour set. And, at midnight, Biz Markie was scheduled to DJ until 2.
 
I started my set by playing classics that ranged from Earth, Wind & Fire’s “September” to the Rolling Stones’ “Miss You,” which had the multi-ethnic crowd, consisting of people like Jerry Bruckheimer, Gene Hackman and Tyson Beckford, dancing non-stop. This continued on until 10:15 p.m. when I was informed that Biz wanted to get on early. I was extremely upset because I felt like I was being hated on because I was rocking the party.  How could they interrupt me during my set when it was obvious that I was doing my thing?
 
After playing 2 more songs I handed the headphones over to Biz and proceeded to exit the stage.  I was totally content with my performance because I knew I did very well. After realizing that I’d left my CDs, I turned around and walked back to the DJ area when at this point I was approached by Biz’s boy.  He informed me that Biz was only DJing for 2 hours and after that I was to get back on and close it out.  I politely declined and told him that my time was done.  Before I could grab my CDs, he said to me that I shouldn’t be afraid to go on after Biz.  I took that as a direct diss.  Obviously dude doesn’t know me well, because if he did, he would know that I am suffering with an incurable condition called “compulsive DJ-itis.”

TO BE CONTINUED...

-dj

Posted by D-Nice at 05:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I had a pretty interesting Super Bowl weekend down in Jacksonville, Florida. But, before I give you a recap, I thought I’d first share my Waffle House story. After DJing at the Alicia Keys event Saturday night, I decided to have breakfast with a couple of my boys, who happened to be down there for the weekend. Since the party ended around 3 a.m., our choices of restaurants were limited to McDonald’s and the Waffle House. We reluctantly selected the Waffle House.

It’s been at least 10 years since I’d last stepped foot into a Waffle House and by the looks of it, some things never change. The eatery was filled to capacity with impatient patrons waiting for their chance to order. There were no tables available so we grabbed a couple of seats at the end of the counter. These were actually the best seats in the house because it enabled us to have an unobstructed view of what was going on inside of the restaurant.

While sitting at the counter, I watched everyone that handled the food and I realized that this place was truly a breeding ground for ecoli and any other deadly form of bacteria. The first sign that this place was a health hazard was when the lanky old man refilled the lemonade dispenser with water carried in a dirty mop bucket. This was truly disturbing and I immediately transformed from “D-Nice, the hungry DJ,” into “D-Nice, the hungry undercover reporter!”

The second sign was that for at least an hour I never witnessed anyone behind the counter wash their hands.

Everyone that worked there seemed to have dual responsibilities. The same woman who worked at the cash register was also on waffle duty. After every single waffle was made, she would bare-handedly remove it from the waffle iron and toss it on a plate. Now, I already hate for my food to be fondled, but to have my food fondled by the money handler was a definite “No-No!” I watched another woman scratch her head and with the same hand she removed the toast from the toaster with, she placed it on someone’s plate.

The lanky old man, who happened to look like Randy Johnson of the New York Yankees, was solely responsible for some of the most disgusting things I’ve ever witnessed in a restaurant. For example, the dishwasher was positioned behind the counter from where I was seated. After the dishwashing cycle finished, he used the same filthy cloth that was already soiled with cheese, jelly, and any other table particles left behind by departed patrons, to dry off the dishes. After drying the dishes, he emptied the trash and then grabbed a bucket of sliced green peppers floating in a strange liquid and with his bare hand he scooped out a handful and placed them in a dish next to the stove. These same sliced green peppers were later used in someone’s omelet.

After seeing that, we immediately exited the Waffle House leaving behind our uneaten food, the check, and drove one mile down the road to the International House of Pancakes. At least there I couldn’t see the kitchen!

Posted by D-Nice at 10:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (25)