A few months back I was invited to an “underground hip hop” party at a huge club on the port in Tel Aviv. I was a bit skeptical because Israelis and hip hop are just two completely unconnected thoughts. I mean…I will admit I am a hip hop snob. I dated a hip hop DJ for lots of years back in the old country leading me to gain a keen sense of understanding of what it means to be a real DJ. Not this silly MP3 player or CD player DJ you see…but two turntables and a microphone. I’m a hip hop snob. I don’t think there should ever be a break in the flow of the beat from one song to the next. I don’t think you should ever have to stop shaking your butt to scratch your head and wonder what just happened to the mix.
That does not exist in Israel.
So this party left much to be desired. It was particularly painful for me because it was at a HUGE HUGE mega-club and it was PACKED with half-naked little girls grinding on stupefied little boys. I felt extremely old and wondered how in the WORLD they were going to pull off an underground hip hop party for teenie boppers. I’m too old. I had at least a 7 year running start on most of these kids…possibly more. After about an hour of sitting in the corner watching people make out and judging their outfits, we finally got into the “hip hop” room that had , of course, been sealed off to create excitement.
They kicked off the evening with Coolio‘s Gangsta’s Paradise. I swear. It was that bad. I was in pain. We waited about an hour in there hoping that it would get better…that maybe they’d put on something we appreciated. Much to our dismay, it just got worse.
But Coolio? Come on!