Showing posts with label Houston. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Houston. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 10, 2020

On Publishing and Racial Justice

June 10, 2020 - This week George Floyd is being celebrated in Houston, where he grew up. In our home state of Texas and throughout the country, protestors have raised their voices against the systematic suppression of Black voices, the excessive use of force against protestors, and the murders of named and unnamed Black people. The University of Texas Press joins these condemnations and supports the essential and urgent work of the Black Lives Matter movement.

Our publishing mission is to serve the people of Texas and knowledge seekers around the world by publishing valuable and relevant information to educate, advance scholarship, and deepen our understanding of history, current events, and contemporary cultures. Our authors reveal the connections between law enforcement along the US-Mexico border and the militarization of the police in this country. They study how cultural trauma is disproportionally inflicted upon and suffered by communities of color, the severity of which is compounded by white systems of power. And they examine the personal histories and the cultural impact of art created, transformed, and advanced by Black creators.

We believe deeply that these kinds of books, and the historical and cultural perspectives they foster, have an important role to play in the broader conversations now taking place. At the same time, we acknowledge that the book publishing industry itself, with a Black workforce of only 5 percent, has a very long way to go. Without the opportunities for meaningful and gainful entry-level jobs, barriers remain for young publishers of color. Unpaid internships; poor oversight of recruitment, promotion, and retainment; and a broad lack of equity training and accountability systems have made publishing an unwelcoming field for Black professionals.

The University of Texas Press is committed to asking difficult questions of ourselves and our institution to purposefully seek solutions. We are committed to the ongoing work of increasing staff diversity while providing professional development opportunities, training all staff to participate in an equitable work environment, and regularly reviewing our acquisitions and peer review practices to ensure broad representation. We are committed to advancing the works and expertise of Black scholars and artists, decentering whiteness when celebrating Black cultural production, and investing deliberately in our outreach to share publishing opportunities and market Black authors.

It is crucial for us to reckon with privilege, gather our peers, and actively protect and advance the rights, lives, and self-determination of Black people. In the coming weeks and months, we will be joining with others in listening, amplifying voices, sharing resources, and centering the work that must be done. In a time of uncertainty, precarity, and division, our ears and our inboxes are open.

As we continue to educate ourselves in efforts to dismantle white supremacy, we also want to do our part to elevate Black voices. We have compiled a list of our staff’s favorite books by Black authors who have made an impact on us, especially at a time when context and deep thinking are necessary.

  • Affrilachia, Frank X Walker
  • The Age of Phillis, HonorĂ©e Fanonne Jeffers
  • Americanah, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
  • An American Marriage, Tayari Jones
  • American Sonnets for My Past and Future Assasin, Terrance Hayes
  • The Autobiography of Malcolm X, as told to Alex Haley
  • The Ballad of Black Tom, Victor LaValle
  • Becoming, Michelle Obama
  • Between the World and Me, Ta-Nehisi Coates
  • The Birds of Opulence, Crystal Wilkinson
  • Blackberries, Blackberries, Crystal Wilkinson
  • Black Bone: 25 Years of Affrilachian Writers, edited by Bianca Spriggs and Jeremy Paden
  • Black from the Future: A Collection of Black Speculative Fiction, edited by Stephanie Andrea Allen and Lauren Cherelle
  • Black Marxism: The Making of the Black Radical Tradition, Cedric Robinson
  • The Black Poets, Dudley Randall
  • Black Skins, White Masks, Franz Fanon
  • Black, White, and in Color: Essays on American Literature and Culture, Hortense Spillers
  • Bone Black: Memories of Girlhood, bell hooks
  • Book of Hours: Poems, Kevin Young
  • The Book of Night Women, Marlon James
  • A Bound Woman Is a Dangerous Thing: The Incarceration of African American Women from Harriet Tubman to Sandra Bland, DaMaris B. Hill
  • Born a Crime: Stories from a South African Childhood, Trevor Noah
  • The Bridge of Beyond, Simone Schwarz-Bart
  • Brief History of Seven Killings, Marlon James
  • Broken Earth series, N. K. Jemisin
  • Brown: Poems, Kevin Young
  • Bunk: The Rise of Hoaxes, Humbug, Plagiarists, Phonies, Post-Facts, and Fake News, Kevin Young
  • Cane, Jean Toomer
  • Can't Escape Love, Alyssa Cole
  • The Century Cycle (plays), August Wilson
  • The Changeling, Victor LaValle
  • Changing My Mind: Occasional Essays, Zadie Smith
  • Clotel, or the President's Daughter, William Wells Brown
  • The Color Purple, Alice Walker
  • Condemnation of Blackness: Race, Crime, and the Making of Modern Urban America, Khalil Gibran Muhammad
  • Cooking Gene: A Journey Through African American Culinary History in the Old South, Michael Twitty
  • Dawn, Octavia Butler
  • Delicious Foods, James Hannaham
  • Dispossessed Lives: Enslaved Women, Violence, and the Archive, Marisa Fuentes 
  • Don’t Call Us Dead: Poems, Danez Smith
  • The Edna Lewis Cookbook, Edna Lewis and Evangeline Peterson
  • Eight Men: Short Stories, Richard Wright
  • Eloquent Rage: A Black Feminist Discovers Her Superpower, Brittney Cooper
  • For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide/When the Rainbow is Enuf, Ntozake Shange
  • Freedom as Marronage, Neil Roberts
  • Friday Black, Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah
  • Gather Together in My Name, Maya Angelou
  • Get a Life, Chloe Brown, Talia Hibbert
  • Giovanni’s Room, James Baldwin
  • Golden Gulag: Prisons, Surplus, Crisis, and Opposition in Globalizing California, Ruth Wilson Gilmore
  • The Good Lord Bird, James McBride
  • The Hate U Give, Angie Thomas
  • Head Off and Split, Nikky Finney
  • The Heart of a Woman, Maya Angelou
  • Heavy: An American Memoir, Kiese Laymon
  • The History of White People, Nell Irvin Painter
  • Home, Toni Morrison
  • Homegoing, Yaa Gyasi
  • How to Slowly Kill Yourself and Others in America, Kiese Laymon
  • I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
  • In Search of the Black Fantastic: Politics and Popular Culture in the Post-Civil Rights Era, Richard Iton
  • Insurrections, Rion Amilcar Scott
  • Intimate Justice: The Black Female Body and the Body Politic, Shatema Threadcraft
  • Invisible Man, Ralph Ellison
  • Isaac Murphy: I Dedicate This Ride, Frank X Walker
  • Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption, Bryan Stevenson
  • The Known World, Edward P. Jones
  • Life’s Work: A Moral Argument for Choice, Dr. Willie Parker
  • Lose Your Mother: A Journey Along the Atlantic Slave Route, Saidiya Hartman
  • Loving Day, Mat Johnson
  • Men We Reaped: A Memoir, Jesmyn Ward
  • The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness, Michelle Alexander
  • No Mercy Here: Gender, Punishment, and the Making of Jim Crow Modernity, Sarah Haley
  • On Beauty, Zadie Smith
  • On the Come Up, Angie Thomas
  • The Poet X, Elizabeth Acevedo
  • Praise Song for the Day: A Poem for Barack Obama's Presidential Inauguration, January 20, 2009, Elizabeth Alexander
  • Prelude to Bruise, Saeed Jones
  • The Price for Their Pound of Flesh: The Value of the Enslaved, from Womb to Grave, in the Building of a Nation, Daina Ramey Berry
  • Pride, Ibi Zoboi
  • Racecraft: The Soul of Inequality in American Life, Karen E. Fields and Barbara J. Fields
  • Race Rebels: Culture, Politics, and the Black Working Class, Robin D. G. Kelley
  • Rafe: A Buff Male Nanny, Rebekah Weatherspoon
  • Recyclopedia, Harryette Mullen
  • The Sellout, Paul Beatty
  • Singin' and Swingin' and Gettin' Merry Like Christmas, Maya Angelou
  • Sing, Unburied, Sing, Jesmyn Ward
  • A Small Place, Jamaica Kincaid
  • Song of Solomon, Toni Morrison
  • The Stars and the Blackness Between Them, Junauda Petrus
  • Sula, Toni Morrison
  • Summer Lightning, Olive Senior
  • Swallow the Fish, Gabrielle Civil
  • Tar Baby, Toni Morrison
  • Texaco, Patrick Chamoiseau
  • Their Eyes Were Watching God, Zora Neale Hurston
  • They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us, Hanif Abdurraqib
  • Thick: And Other Essays, Tressie McMillan Cottom
  • The Thing Around Your Neck, Chimamanda Ngozi Adiche
  • The Underground Railroad, Colson Whitehead
  • The Venus Hottentot: Poems, Elizabeth Alexander
  • The Warmth of Other Suns, Isabel Wilkerson
  • We Are Never Meeting in Real Life: Essays, Samantha Irby
  • We Were Eight Years in Power: An American Tragedy, Ta-Nehisi Coates
  • The works of Stuart Hall
  • The Wretched of the Earth, Franz Fanon
  • You Can’t Keep a Good Woman Down, Alice Walker
  • Zone One, Colson Whitehead

Tuesday, November 5, 2019

Andrew Smith on the 25th Anniversary of George Foreman's Historic Heavyweight Title

Olympic gold medalist. Two-time world heavyweight champion. Hall of Famer. Infomercial and reality TV star. George Foreman’s fighting ability is matched only by his acumen for selling. Yet the complete story of Foreman’s rise from urban poverty to global celebrity has never been told until now.

Raised in Houston’s “Bloody Fifth” Ward, battling against scarcity in housing and food, young Foreman fought sometimes for survival and other times just for fun. But when a
More info
government program rescued him from poverty and introduced him to the sport of boxing, his life changed forever.

In No Way but to Fight: 
George Foreman and the Business of Boxing, Andrew R. M. Smith traces Foreman’s life and career from the Great Migration to the Great Society, through the Cold War and Culture Wars, out of urban Houston and onto the world stage where he discovered that fame brought new challenges. Drawing on new interviews with George Foreman and declassified government documents, as well as more than fifty domestic and international newspapers and magazines, Smith brings to life the exhilarating story of a true American icon. No Way but to Fight is an epic worthy of a champion.

To commemorate the 25th anniversary of George Foreman becoming the oldest heavyweight champion, we asked Andrew Smith to recount Foreman's path to this historic distinction. No Way but to Fight publishes January 10, 2020.

George Foreman's 1994 Heavyweight Title

By Andrew Smith


In 1987, almost ten years and at least 50 pounds away from his last prize fight, George Foreman had a dream. “I’m not trying to rain on [Mike] Tyson’s parade,” he told the New York Times’ Dave Anderson. “He’s the youngest champion, I just want to be the oldest.”

The 38-year-old Foreman wouldn’t have to wait very long to meet the age requirement. He was chasing the record that “Jersey” Joe Walcott set in 1953. At 37, Walcott beat Ezzard Charles to win the heavyweight title. Two years later he relinquished his title to Rocky Marciano and promptly retired from boxing.

Foreman said he intended to win the heavyweight title at 40. It didn’t quite work out as planned. His 40th birthday came and went, and although he kept fighting—nearly 20 times in two years—he struggled just to get his bouts with lackluster opponents televised, let alone secure a title shot.

Maybe it was an impossible dream. No one over 40 had ever worn the heavyweight crown. A quarter-century after Walcott’s last fight, the 36-year-old Muhammad Ali became champion for the third time, but abdicated his title the next year. Ali had one more shot at the title when he was 38, but he was badly outmatched by Larry Holmes. He retired for good the next year, like Walcott, before he turned 40.

Foreman kept his eye on the heavyweight prize as he eased into his comeback, while Holmes—just ten months younger than Foreman—had never really left. Although Holmes lost his championship at 36, he threatened Walcott’s record by challenging Tyson two years later. “Kid Dynamite” was 17 years younger and only needed 12 minutes to rebuff Holmes’s shot at history. Rumors swirled that Tyson would also give Foreman a chance at the championship belt—and the record that he coveted. Though Foreman’s chances of beating Tyson were not much better than Holmes’s had been, he would never have the opportunity to test them. Tyson lost to James “Buster” Douglas, who promptly gave it up to Evander Holyfield while Tyson was convicted of rape, and sent to prison.

Holyfield gave Foreman his shot, making his first title defense against the now 42-year-old in 1991. Their “Battle of the Ages” was much more competitive than expected, with the sport’s elder statesman taking Holyfield the full twelve rounds, even winning one or two, depending on who was counting. Foreman was still standing at the end of the fight, but so too was Walcott’s record. “I played too much jazz,” Foreman said of his conservative approach to Holyfield, and many wondered if that was in fact his swan song.

Two years later, however, the World Boxing Organization pitted him against Tommy “The Duke” Morrison for its vacant championship. Foreman was the betting favorite, but Morrison, who claimed to be a nephew of John Wayne, channeled his inner sheriff and marshalled Foreman around the ring. Now 44, Foreman could be seen more often on television commercials than in a prize ring. Like other aging yet popular athletes, it seemed that “Big George” would be relegated to the broadcaster’s booth, calling the fights for a new generation of champions, including Holyfield’s next defense against Michael Moorer.

More than four decades after Walcott’s last stand in 1953, it seemed the age gap in heavyweight boxing had only widened as Holyfield and Moorer—both a chiseled 214 pounds—faced off. Although he was outside the ring, Foreman didn’t pull any punches in his commentary. He questioned the action, the scoring that gave Moorer a contested decision, and how much influence Moorer’s management had over the outcome.

In retaliation, Moorer’s people insisted that he would not fight on an HBO broadcast again if Foreman was in the booth. They got their wish, in a way: Moorer’s first title defense was on HBO, but Foreman wasn’t calling it from the table, because he was in the other corner. The nature of the sport, especially after Tyson’s redemption story lost all redeeming qualities, meant that Moorer could earn the highest purse not by fighting the best contender, but the most popular one. The bald, round Everyman of the prize ring, George Foreman, fit the bill.

On November 5, 1994, George Foreman—now 45-years-old—got one more chance. Nine rounds of boxing only seemed to prop up Walcott’s record. Moorer circled Foreman throughout the fight, landing punches seemingly at will. But boxing is one sport where 27 minutes of dominance can be undone in the blink of an eye; 90 points can be obliterated in just one shot. During the tenth round, Foreman caught Moorer with a left jab, and followed it up with a straight right hand that went through Moorer’s gloves and hit the point of his chin. Moorer collapsed to the mat. When he regained his senses, he was staring up at the oldest heavyweight champion in modern boxing history.




Andrew R. M. Smith is an assistant professor of sport management and history at Nichols College. Originally from Guelph, Ontario, he lives with his wife and daughters in Woodstock, Connecticut. Visit his website at: https://andrewrmsmith.com.

Wednesday, November 14, 2018

An Oral History of Houston Rap: #TurnItUP in The Neighborhood

Today is the third day of University Press Week, and this year’s theme is #TurnItUP, signifying the ability of the Association of University Presses (AUP) member publishers to amplify knowledge. November 12-17, 2018 is a week for celebrating university presses and the value of knowledge and expertise. 

As part of University Press Week, our peer presses will be sharing blog posts focusing on various themes. Today's theme is #TurnItUP: The Neighborhood. Writer Lance Scott Walker's book Houston Rap Tapes: An Oral History of Bayou City Hip-Hop tells the story of the artists, DJs, producers, promoters, and record label owners coming out of the neighborhoods of Fifth Ward, Fourth Ward, Third Ward, and the Southside of Houston, Texas. These largely marginalized communities gave birth to Houston rap, a vibrant music scene that has produced globally recognized artists such as Geto Boys, DJ Screw, Pimp C and Bun B of UGK, Fat Pat, Big Moe, Z-Ro, Lil’ Troy, and Paul Wall.

Lance Scott Walker spent a decade interviewing key players in the H-Town scene, and the resulting interviews range from the specifics of making music to the passions, regrets, memories, and hopes that give the music life. In our podcast conversation, we address how police corruption and gentrification have impacted Houston neighborhoods; the complexities of gangsta rap; early rap battles among Raheem, Willie D, and Vanilla Ice; and the impact of the late DJ Screw. As part of the amplified new edition of Houston Rap Tapes, Walker also created custom maps of Houston that highlight major landmarks for the city's hip-hop culture.

As Willie D of Geto Boys writes in the foreword, “Houston Rap Tapes flows more like a bunch of fellows who haven’t seen each other for ages, hanging out on the block reminiscing, rather than a calculated literary guide to Houston’s history.” Join us as we talk Hustle Town.

This interview had been edited and shortened for clarity.



UT Press: So you and documentary photographer Peter Beste spent about ten years documenting a very special but often neglected hip-hop scene in Houston, Texas. Can you give an overview of what was going on when you first started the project, which the legendary Bun B has called the defining book on Houston rap?

Lance Scott Walker: Peter Beste said, "Hey, I'm gonna do this project. I'm coming back to Houston to take photos, but this is way bigger than just photos. You're a writer.” I was writing for the Houston Chronicle, and he said, "You should join me and interview people and then provide the text component to what I'm getting with the photos, because it's way bigger than the photos and the stories need to go with them.” It was right before everything broke in Houston, before Mike Jones, Paul Wall, Slim Thug. All of that was breaking in 2004, or was leaning toward that, and then in 2005, by the time we had the project in full swing, that's when that scene really popped and we were on the front side of that wave. It meant that when everybody else came streaming into Houston to write about what was happening, we'd already been doing it.

UTP: You've done some restructuring of the book, so let's talk about how you decided to structure the book.

LSW: So I broke the book up into five sections. The first section is called Foundation, and that goes all the way back to the ’70s. That's talking to some of the people who were producers and rappers early on before you had rap records in Houston. A lot of the people who were produced in the first rap records in Houston were funk and boogie producers. I wanted to touch on what was there before rap. Rap didn't just materialize out of nowhere; there were people who were making music that was going to become the beats, the backing tracks for rap, and it had a totally different feel.

The second section is called Rhinestone; it's built all around the Rhinestone Wrangler night club, which is really the first scene in Houston, and a lot of the early Rap-A-Lot artists were involved in that scene. They developed in that scene, they flourished in that scene, they became battle rappers in that scene, they became better lyricists in that whole scene. That's all mid-’80s to late ’80s; that takes us all the way up to the ’90s. Then I did a section on the South Side.

It's not that people weren't making records on the North Side; in fact, the North Side started making records first, but the South Side started to really shine in the ’90s, and there are simply more neighborhoods in that part of Houston where rappers are coming from. Then I did a section on The Future.

Some newer artists like Big Gerb, OMB Bloodbath, B L A C K I E, Cal Wayne, and I also interviewed Dr. Robert S. Mohammad in that section, which may be an odd fit, but there's something that makes it fit. So that’s how I broke it up, into sections of town but also eras.

UTP: Talk a little bit more about battle rapping at the Rhinestone Wrangler.



Steve Fournier, University of Houston Special Collections
LSW: So, OK, its rank wrapping. The Rhinestone Wrangler was a nightclub run by a guy named Steve Fournier, who I interview in the book, started right around 1985. So in 1985, 1986, 1987, that scene really flourishes. He only played rap. He was open five nights a week, only playing rap, and on Sunday nights, they would have a rap contest. 

More than battle rapping, it was rank rapping. So it would get really personal, really nasty. And some of the rappers really developed a sharp tongue in that setting. Willie D was one of them, you know; Rick Royal from Royal Flush, who I interview in the book; Raheem, he was part of that whole scene, and was one of the first Houston artists to be signed to a major label; Sire Jukebox from the original Ghetto Boys.

Willy D certainly would win for weeks on end, the Royal Flush, Romeo Poet. Vanilla Ice would drive down from Dallas and get into those battles. So it was deserving of its own section in the book because it was such a hotbed of talent developing and a new art form for so many people.

So there were lots of people who were grabbing on to this new culture, this quickly developing and ever-changing culture. Really right before crack cocaine came around, and what did crack cocaine give us? It gave us gangsta rap. So it's a really unique snapshot of maybe the last little bit of innocence in hip-hop.

UTP: If you feel comfortable, would you mind talking about the concept of gangsta rap and what that represents?

LSW: Well, I don't know that I could say what it represents to those who make gangsta rap, because that's a very internal thing. But suffice to say that in all of my interviews, it comes out as a document of their surroundings. You know, “This is what I was seeing.” And in some cases, “this is what I was a part of.” I think the really beautiful thing about doing these interviews, in some cases fifteen to twenty years after the fact, was that I'm doing interviews with forty and fifty-year-olds in some cases, who look at it very differently and can really, really pull back and tell you, with a very deep and rich perspective: Number one, I'm still alive. And they're grateful for that. Because so many of them will tell me stories about people they know that got involved and stuff and they aren't here anymore. And also, to survive and to be able to orient your life in a different way.

Some of them, when they have kids or when they get married, or when they just grow up, and just go, “Wow, you know, I can't keep doing that. I can't keep being a part of that. I can keep being around that.” It doesn't mean I don't still talk about it in my music.

UTP: Because it’s still the truth. It’s still the truth for a lot of people.

LSW: Right, it’s still the truth. And whether some people might look at it as glorifying it or not, it's still storytelling. It's still biographical for a lot of people, and I would have to imagine, being an artist of any stripe, that it’s cathartic. People tell me some stories in the book that are really tough, really, really rough stories. Wood from the Screwed Up Click told me about his mother becoming addicted to crack, his house burning down. She's addicted to crack for the better part of a decade, maybe longer, and he finally wrestles her out of that life and gets her into a house, and he says in the book, “I got her back, but she's not my same mom.” You can't wash away what drugs do to people, you just can't. But, we're alive.

UTP: Let’s talk about how Houston works. With police corruption, all of that. Do you want to talk a little bit about how thorough a document your book is of how Houston treats these neighborhoods?

LSW: Well, I don't think anything could be thorough. I don't think anything could reflect the conditions in the neighborhoods. I tried to touch on different parts of that. Certainly, corruption is a big part of it. Getting pulled over by the police. The police tell you, "Oh I know you, I know who you are. Let's go to an ATM.” That's a real story. That happens.

You look at the health in the neighborhoods. Let's go the grocery store. There isn’t one. You know, it is deep and it is in some cases very dark, and I don't think that there's any way that you could possibly document everything, or even a fraction of what people go through, what they have experienced in their lives and certainly what police corruption brings to the neighborhoods or the blind eye that the city turns to those neighborhoods, how that manifests and how that affects lives. When you go into a neighborhood and you don't feel like . . . and certainly the residents don't feel like the city cares. I'll go drive through River Oaks, and I won’t find any patches in the streets because they’re new. But I drive through South Park, and “Oh wow! That pipe is still leaking right out into the street.” It’s been three weeks.

UTP:
Your Willie D interview in 2017, he talks about the chemical companies who are
Willie D, photo by Peter Beste
dumping whatever into the Fifth Ward. Unbelievable.

LSW: Yeah. Dr. Robert S. Muhammad and I talk about just the freeway design in Houston. What neighborhoods do they go through? What neighborhood does highway 59 go through? It goes right through Fifth Ward. What about I-45? It goes right through Fourth Ward. As a matter of fact, not only did it go right through Fourth Ward but it separated the church from the community. The church is still there—Antioch. It's right in downtown Houston surrounded by gigantic skyscrapers. But you have to walk across the freeway to get to the neighborhood that it used to serve. And by the way, that neighborhood is mostly gone. Gentrification is certainly a nebulous idea for some, but then for others, it's a very stark reality. “OK, well, I live in a shotgun house that five generations of my family have owned and I'm not selling. There's these beautiful old bricks in the street that have been there for a hundred years in Freedman’s Town, and now there’s this gigantic, three-story silver building next to me with a garage door that opens and a car disappears into it and it closes and I never see the person who lives in there.

People are being bought out or they're being built next to, and then their property taxes go up and they're forced out. How do you control it? I don't know. And I don't think anybody in the book even has a solution for that. I wouldn't expect them to. All I can do is put a light on it, and try to go deeper where I can and talk about those subjects. Well, how much of a reality is this? I know it's a reality. So let's go a little bit deeper; let me keep asking you about it. And you start to unfold all this stuff that couldn't even come out in the music.

UTP: What do you hope people will take from the book?

LSW: The more people understand the perspectives of people that they're listening to, or maybe in some cases not listening to, the more they'll understand about themselves. That's all I tried to do with the books. Say, somebody like your uncle or your dad or your mom or whoever it is that cannot listen to hip-hop to save their lives. OK, well, read this.

You don't have to get past the accent; you don't have to get past what you call the “noise” of the music. Learn something about another person. Then maybe you learn a little something about something that they've experienced or just the trauma they've experienced. Like I said, either the effects of crack cocaine or, you know, syrup? Codeine/promethazine. All those kinds of different things factor into people's lives in a different way. And so that gives them a chance to open up. And all I can hope is that people will read that and that there's some mirror in there somewhere. I would hope that there's something in there that resonates with somebody you maybe couldn't think you had less in common with.

UTP: You and Peter Beste donated a lot of material to the University of Houston Libraries. Do you want to talk about that collection?

LSW: Peter Beste and I donated a huge amount of our archives to them. I donated audio recordings of interviews. I donated transcripts of interviews, plenty of stuff that didn't make it into the book. Peter donated lots of photos. Tons of ephemera, t-shirts, and fliers, and stickers, and CDs. You know I donated tons of records.

UTP: It's an important record, historical record.

LSW: Yeah, it's more important to me for somebody to be able to go into that collection, especially when you have something like a university where young people are coming in all the time. And maybe they're going to school for two or three years before they learn that that's there, but then, “Oh, oh, I wanna go check this out.” Maybe they’re from Memphis or Birmingham, or wherever, and then they go back and say, "Oh, I'm gonna do this for Memphis.” Or Virginia Beach, or Charleston, or West Virginia. It maybe gives people an idea: Dig deeper into your community. Doesn’t have to be about rap. It could be about Cumbia. I think anyone could do a “tapes” book for any kind of scene.

UTP: Let’s talk about DJ Screw and the sound he created that has come to define Houston.

LSW: DJ Screw was a hugely influential, late DJ from Houston. He died eighteen years ago. He made tapes in his house. He had people come over and freestyle on his tapes. The freestylers on his tapes may have been rappers, may not have been rappers. An entire culture began to build around the tapes he was making. He would play two copies of the same record on the turntables, one of them a little behind the other, and he would chop back and forth with his fader between those records to repeat verses. He would wind stuff back to repeat words. Really an incredible DJ.

Screw would record his tapes into an 8-track and then, from that tape, into another tape, and he would slow it down in the process. He slowed the records with the pitch control, but most of his slowing-down process involved slowing it down into the tape deck. If you have ever been to Houston, it's a very hot, slow city. And that sound really, really resonated in Houston, but more so even than that, the culture of Houston came alive on his tapes. Because we're talking about some people who weren't professional rappers, or artists, or lyricists, any of that.

So what were they going to talk about? Maybe in some cases they were talking about what they were doing, legal or illegal, but really a lot of times, they were talking about their neighborhoods. And so, if you're from the neighborhood of Yellowstone and you hear Big Pokey rapping on tapes, talking about Yellowstone, you’re proud of that. You’re talking about this street and that street. South Park, Dead End, Kennedy Heights, Fat Pat, Big Hawk, Big Moe in Third Ward, Yates High School, all these things come in to life on the tapes. Candy paint—that's cars painted with a little bit of metallic flakes in the paint—customized cars. They call them slabs because they’re building it from the ground up. But it's the whole culture coming to life on the tapes, and that really, really hooked the entire culture of Houston together in so many ways. And that's not to say that everything in Houston reflects DJ Screw; it's just a part of it. DJ Screw was so prolific that everything came together in a way that they really brought a lot of people on board and made a lot of people aware of what was going on in Houston.

UTP:
Let's talk about the maps.


LSW: They're sort of a quiet addition. I did a map of the North Side. I did a map of the South Side, which of course doesn’t have everything in there. They're sourced from anybody I could get locations of things from: night clubs, streets, neighborhoods, areas of town. These maps can give you a sense of how the city is laid out, and how one neighborhood might be related to another, or how the North Side is sort of structured and how the South Side is structured or not structured.

UTP: This is a map that people haven't seen before. This is an interpretation of the areas that people haven't seen before, right?

LSW: Exactly, all maps are political. And the political bent that I wanted was to try to represent as much as I could in those maps and maybe drop a few things in there that give people food for thought. I put Moody Park in there. That doesn't have anything to do with rap music, per se, but that was the scene of a riot in the late ’70s that was the product of police brutality. And so that is very relevant to the book. And maybe somebody might look and say, “Well, why is Moody Park in there?” And then they look it up. “Wow, OK, now I know.” And I hope there's a few nuggets like that that people find on the maps. There's a reason for everything that is listed on the maps. There’s a reason the map points to Atascocita and to Rosharon because those are prisons that are referenced in the book. People just got out of prison and I'm interviewing them. “Where have you been?” “Rosharon.” I hope the maps say a lot more than this was here, this was there. I hope the maps enrich the book, and in a way that makes people dig a lot deeper.



Further listening and reading:



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