The Professor Moved On..

I know watcha ya'll must be thinking: "This can't be the real World. Been gone too long. They finally must've got 'em. Evil came knockin' and my dude had to stop rockin'."  

Well, let me tell you low and slow that Mista World sure is hurtin' and a whole lot of sh*t went down for certain, but now I'm done hiding and I got no fear of dying. 

You probably heard we lost the Professor. He had to move on. That turned the World upside down. Felt gut-shot, hopeless, and broken.  But I remember all his teachings, every word he had spoken. 

Before he moved on he laid it all out, "It ain't about winning or losing it's about the path you choosing. The Mission found you, not the other way round. You're a hero to our people for the sacrifice you've made. Don't get that twisted. But ya gotta soldier on with the knowledge you've been gifted. It can always get worse if that's your perspective. But no matter how hard it gets you'll always be protected."

So I cleared myself of all that fear, gonna stick to my schooling, count my blessings not what I'm missing.

I lost Domenquez in the trenches and had to sell the Caddy to go underground and out of sight. But I ain't never gonna be out this fight. 

The Warlord may have taken out the Professor and he might have my location, but that punk ass got no clue about my new vocation. I'm gonna be out here telling everyone with an ear that the mission has never been so clear. 

In the Professor's good name, I'm gonna finish what we started. You can't kill the cool, stop the vibe, or deny people from gettin' what they missin'. 

So get strapped in, my Earthly people. I'm back on my mutha f*ckin' mission!

 -  Mista World

 Rest easy, big man. I'll catch you on the next trip.

                          

You Can Listen to Jimi... Can You Hear Him?

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So my people have come clean and now they're hip to my scene, think they know what the World is about and what it all means.  Aliens. Space Travel. Pimp rides and keeping a vibe.  They say, "We know what your reppin' Mr. World.  We see from the inside."

Now that's all well and good the secret might be out but things around here still need changin', no doubt.   At first glance it's not at all what you think. Perception and reality are all in reverse. It's beyond any scene that we all must traverse, dig.

So few soldiers we had back in the day but I feel a resurgence, I feel it today.  I hear the pop and hiss of vinyl, the funk, and the cool.  I see brothers of all colors just trying to figure one another.  There is great promise in the youth beatin' these streets, a smile on every audiophile that Mr. World meets.

The signs, they were all there back in the day.  No one screamed louder than The Man that could play.  "But first, are you experienced?  Have you ever been experienced?", Jimi asked plain and clear.  They say he couldn't read music, said he couldn't jam in key.  But his sound touched the stratosphere and brought the establishment to it's knees.

It was in this month of May, 1967, that Hendrix brought his new language to the world.  The mind altering LP, Are You Experienced, is a cosmic trip.  It's 33 revolutions per minute.  It's rocket ship.

We all know the tracks; Purple Haze, Fire, The Wind Cries Mary, and the perfect Hey Joe.  But there are few more tracks you just gots to know.  Put on Third Stone from the Sun and I Don't Live Today.  Let it all sink in and really listen to what the man has to say.

There is one LP that Mr. World holds to close to his heart.  If your having trouble hearing then The Experience ain't a bad place to start.  Can you dig it?

- Mr. World

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Red Velvet and RainWater

Cover of The Rainwater LP

It's a beautiful thing when Mr. World gets to roam.  The road has always suited me just fine.  For the turning over of the new year, I found myself hand-in-hand with sweetest thing in the galaxy, Ms. Red Velvet Scrubs.  Now, you know my girl can't sit still for more than a beat and this time it was the heart of Texas where we happen to meet. 

The plan was simple enough for an alien and his squeeze; deadhead for Austin to see a funk band that was gonna bring us to our knees.  Well, the idea was tight and the weather was all right, but I could see on my girl's face it would be a long night.  The funk fell flat and the scene was far from all that.  Luckily, we had a cure for the blues that gave us all our groove back.

Right before we made for Austin, Velvet hit the World up for his latest sounds.  Ms. Scrubs knows I am hip to the classics and have a feel for the flow.  But it was my man Clarence Greenwood, lately, that had been stealing the show.  Now, when I told Velvet that that was the case, her eyes lit up and it was written all over her face.  She had been bumping and grooving to the same beats, The Rainwater LP.  Man, I can't tell how cool it is when the universe latches onto a Vibe and everyone seems to be feeling the same love.  That's what is happenin' now for my man Clarence. 

Y'all might know him by his alias, Citizen Cope.  It happens to be the name of the band as well.  I can tell you right of that bat that any man with an alter ego is bound for fame.  It's about losing yourself in your material; it's about dropping your guard.  Now, Cope dropped his given name a few albums back but this time he left his label as well.  The Rainwater LP is his first mainstream, self produced album of his career.  And let me tell you people, you can hear the freedom in his voice.  The tracks are unbound by suits and executives... they extend beyond that invisible line in the sand.    

I can hear the haters start to rumble so let me stop you right there.  Dude plays keyboards, guitar, spins, writes, and sings.  Cope has got a little something for everyone on this record; hip hop, blues, funk, acoustic flavor, you name it.  Technically, my man was born in Memphis and raised in D.C..  Funny thing is he isn't reppin' one spot on the map.  He's talking to all of us, if you're willing to listen.

When you do decide to listen, and eventually you will, let the speakers breathe on "A Father's Son" and "I Couldn't Explain Why".  "Healing Hands" will be a commercial hit and Cope's message is pretty clear on every track: Listen to me. If you're lucky, you might learn something.

Feel me on this, the cats above and beyond this blue marble are looking for answers.  They are looking for the Voice on the streets.  In order for the Mission to be successful and in order to restore harmony in the universe we have to convince others there is hope and unity down here.  That is why I am proud to beam back some Citizen Cope, bobbing my head to the beat as I do it.  Can you dig it?  

-Mister World

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Sam Cooke, Live at Harlem Square, 1963

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I told ya'll about my funk-fiend homeboy Milton Carrillo.  If you've been following Mr. World from day one then you'll be picking up what I'm 'bout to lay down.  Well my amigo from the San Fernando Valley is legendary for his Dub Reggae knowledge.  One of my favorite ways to keep the flow a go is to straight chill in the Sunset studio with my man Milton.  Sun turns to night and the tunes are all super tight. 


Now, my man knows I can get down with some Dub but he really knows what keeps the space machine flying, and my home planet from dying is the Soul.  I'm always bustin' out the classics that the Professor said were essentials; Otis, Wilson, Marvin, Ray and Etta, etc..  Homeboy thinks it's a trip when I start talking my jive about The Mission and my alien crew.  He sees my white skin and my funky ass threads, he's thinking, "This fool can't be for real.".  I try to break it down for him one piece at a time but when you've been in Hollywood long enough everyone seems like they're from a distant galaxy.  


So Carrillo puts me on the spot, "Alright man, I feel ya on the Soul, who's the greatest of all time?".  He may have been looking for me to fumble and stutter but people there ain't no other, Sam Cooke is the king of kings.  And if the proof is in the pudding then the pudding is Sam Cooke: Live at Harlem Square, 1963.

You have to follow me on this one friends.  I know the World can get himself going on the Vibe and the Real but this album is a time capsule of cool.  On vinyl it's a surreal trip inside a traumatic period of American history.  It was recorded live in 1963 at the Harlem Club in Miami, FL but amazingly not released by RCA until 1985, then it was remixed, stripped down, and released again for the Man Who Invented Soul box set.  But skip the digital defunct and find the '85 RCA on Vinyl.  It's immortal.    

If you are looking for the clean studio melodies from Sam on this album you're barking up the wrong tree.  Nothing but raw soul pours out of the man on this famous night.  His messages are raspy, truthful, and even haunting in parts.  Sam riffs and scats like he is in a trance.  The crowd is as much a part of the recording as the rhythm section.  It's as if they know they are witnessing history in the making.  You'll get all his hits but you'll get 'em the way Sam wanted you to.

Sam Cooke was shot and killed less than two years after that night in Miami at the age of 33.  He had 29 top 40 hits during his short career.  His murder was considered justifiable homicide.  Live at Harlem Square is the closest you'll ever come to knowing Soul and Sam Cooke.  That's just how the Man With the Plan wanted it.  Can you dig it?

-Mr. World 

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Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai

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The people of Earth are always coming up to Mr. World and asking me for my list.  Everyone has a list, ya dig, and the fine folk out here must be catching on to the fact that I ain't no regular Jack.  Follow me now, I'm talking about your top 10, 20, or even 100 flicks you can get down with the most.  In some cases, to keep it all cool, I'll rattle off a few "must haves" just to keep the flow a go.  But somewhere down the line I felt it was best to check in with The Professor and lay out some classics for my people to vibe on.  After all, it's a need we all gotta feed.  You have to sift through a whole lot of dogs these days to find a purebred. 

So, the Man With the Plan was happy to kick me down his 20 favorites of all time and the World studied his lineup, believe that.   It read like a road map to the real.  Everything was represented, from the birth of the cool black and whites to the contemporary hip thrillers.  Ya see, the trip is, the good Professor and I have a different set list.  It occurred to me that, although everyone needs to quench their thirst, we all drink from a different well.  Of course, the Professor had a solution; take the best apples from all the barrels and bake the people some sweet apple pie.  Huh, you gotta dig that?

Without dropping too many culinary quips, the ingredient I'd like to add to the bowl first is a flick that has been looked over and passed by way too many times: Jim Jarmusch's Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai.

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Back in 1999 Jarmusch wrote and directed this cult classic with Forest Whitaker as his lead.  The backdrop to this "character study" is the mean streets of Jersey City, New Jersey.  Now, once you put a new school urban-hit-man (who happens to live by the code of the ancient Samurai) in a mobster flick you've got Mr. World's attention.  Of course Jarmusch, being the innovator of cool that he is, laid in one of the freshest soundtracks of recent times. 

Just when your planet was settled on the fact that white skinned, Italian mobsters generally whacked each other out in Armani suits, to slow playing string arrangements, Jim Jarmusch flips the script big time.  Whitaker plays Ghost Dog; a black, hoodie wearing, contract killer with a thirst for ancient wisdom and a modern hip-hop collection.  RZA wrote the music and it's way too cool for school man.  The supporting cast, mostly made up of quirky mafia fools and a Haitian ice cream truck driver who only speaks French,  are a perfect compliment to this surreal tale.  Whittaker sets out as the unknown hunter but when a hit goes bad, Ghost Dog becomes the hunted. 

The thing I dig most about my man Jarmusch is once you are in his world you are in it to the end.  If you can get down with films like The Professional, La Femme Nikita, and The American, you'll be feelin' Ghost Dog all the way.  It might even rattle your cage.  Now, if you're gonna do it, do it right.  Don't play it on your laptop speakers or watch it on your Iphone people.  Put it on the big screen and let the beats bring you in.  Can you dig it?

-Mr. World 

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Red Velvet visits Amoeba

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Nothing puts a smile on Mr. World's face faster than having Red Velvet Scrubs come to town.  Red Velvet is my sweet girl from middle America with the heart of a giant and the face of an angel.  The Man gave her both so she could take care of the sick and help heal the hurtin'.  And nobody can make Mr. World feel better that's for certain.  Now if there's one girl who bounces around the Earth as much as Jet Stream Jenny, it might be my girl Miss Scrubs.  Her next stop is Dallas, TX.  That's where she'll learn the skills that will help pay the World's bills.  If you can dig that?  You're probably asking yourself, now who's the Man, Mr. World.  I'll get to that down the road people.  

I told ya'll Red Velvet was sweet and I meant it.  But she's also smooth like silk and sharp as a tack.  My girl is always studying me, trying to figure out what makes me tick.  It's a hard job tryin' to figure out the World.  If I told her I was an alien sent from another planet, that I've taken on a human form in order to save my people from the collapse of the cool, and that the Professor is countin' on Dominguez and I to bring back the hip and restore the funk, well she might just flip and have to skip.  I can see how that might rattle any girl's cage, even Miss Scrubs.  Instead of getting all into that, we play it straight, Velvet and I just take in the best of what this planet has to offer.  Maybe someday I'll come clean, pack my girl up in the Space Caddy and head back home to show her the Whale Tongue Galaxy.  It really is Heaven up there. 

Now the other day my girl and I are standing on the corner of Sunset and Ivar, in the heart of Hollywood.  Velvet turns to me and says, "World, when are you gonna take me into Amoeba?".  I tell ya my fake human heart almost quit on me, I mean it could have killed me and the Mission right then and there.  I don't know how many times Velvet has come my way.  We've seen it all out here; The Strip, The Coast, The Boulevard, you name it, and I've never taken this girl into Amoeba Music?  What a trip!  I grabbed her hand and said, "Hold on tight my love.  We're headin' right into the epicenter of Cool!".  

You see, it's hard to explain Amoeba Music.  To most folks it's a big store that looks like a bee hive for music snobs and movie geeks, but for us soldiers here on the ground it's a sanctuary.  It's a big ass pharmacy where we can all get our fix, a spiritual place where the souls of our fallen brothers and sisters fill the air.  When I was just a little alien bouncin' off the walls with energy, the Professor told me stories about places like Amoeba and the importance of the artists that were celebrated there.  I use to dream about someone pulling my own vinyl or DVD from the shelf; taking it home, diggin' it, and then passin' it on to another cat.  My work spreadin' like a virus you can't wait to catch.    

Of course Velvet, my sweet girl, could see the instant impact Amoeba had on the World's vibe.  My eyes were wide as I thumbed through wall to wall vinyl.  My smile was ear to ear as I studied the vintage concert posters on the wall and picked through hard to find classic films.  She was feelin' it.  For a moment there it was just she and I, standing there amongst my heroes.  There was no outside world, no worries, just a steady stream of peace.  I wanted so badly to tell her that that was my Mission, I had to gather up all I could, and restore balance to my planet.  

Like I told the Vampire on the cliffs of Zion, "There is a flow to the universe, you are either riding high on it or paddlin' up against it.  There are places you can go to feel this energy and catch the flow."  

So if you are swimmin' upstream or you're feelin' the heat of the sun on the back of your neck, strut your ass into Amoeba Music and Cool off.  You'll be right as rain in no time!  Can you dig it?

-Mr. World

P.S.- Big Ups to Twist 'n Shout Music store in Denver, CO for keepin' the Vibe alive.               




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The Vampire and World on the Road to Zion

In order to qualify as an Interplanetary Vibeologist every once in awhile you have to hit the road and do some recon.  So last week I called up the Portland Vampire and asked him if he had ever seen the vast coolness of Zion National Park.  Like I said earlier, the Vampire prefers the chill of the dark and Zion sits right in the heart of the desert so I didn't know if he would be hip to the trip.  Course my man said he had had enough of the sounds and smells of Hollywierd and he was down to leave the underground.

So we loaded up the gear and piled into the Gear Truck, a.k.a. a mid nineties GMC Yukon, a loaner from Jet Stream Jenny. Dominguez and I use it as a cover car on the city streets to keep a low profile.  They'll be more on Jet Stream Jenny later, believe that.  She is another foot soldier the Professor has set up in an undisclosed location.  Fact is, this space chic talks quick and moves like lightnin'.  She's never in the same place twice.

The Vampire and I set out in the cover car, leaving the good Doctor in the garage to tend to the Space Caddy and L.A. hipsters.  Now we use the Vampire a lot for documenting the scene and beaming back footage to the home planet.  He's one talented immortal and that's no lie.  He can bend the light, keep it tight, and make the whole thing look right.  What this cat was a little weary about was the trek we were making straight through Mormon Country.  The whole Utah thing was making my man squirm in his skinny jeans.  But World was there to keep it cool.  When the Vampire laid eyes on the place he'd be actin' fool.

With the stank and sirens behind us we came upon the Park.  The World had to step back.  I was amazed by how quickly we were put in our place by the Enormity of Zion.  Cliffs and jagged rock reached up out of the ground trying to touch the stratosphere.  My co-pilot was instantly transformed as we took it all in.  For three days rivers raged, thunderstorms boomed and blasted, and in between the desert sun warmed our souls.  All was right.   We didn't hear a helicopter, a car crash, or a Blackberry scream fest the whole time.  The Vampire was diggin' the imagery so much I had to shout at my brother to put away the camera, build a fire, and put down a cheese dog.

You see, on Earth, the Christians believe Zion to be the Holy City in the Kingdom of Heaven, The Rastafarian rep Zion as Africa, and Jews believe it to be a hill where the City of David was built.  What I was laying down to my pale skin compadre is that on my planet Zion is a state of mind.  It is a vibe, something you catch and hold on to.  It doesn't belong to anybody so there is no fear to be had. The whole mission centered on this idea.  Man oh man was he hip to that!  He ate it all up; he let it creep right into his skin, and breathed it deep into lungs.

All in all the trip was a success.  We got some serious footage for the Professor, picked up a part for the Caddy outside Barstow, CA, and for the first time in a long time I saw my home shimmering up there in the sky.  It was bright and beautiful.  It reminded me of where I was and how important Dominquez and I are to our people.  A chill came over Mr. World and if you visit Zion National Park that same chill will come over you.  Can you dig it?

-Mr. World 


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