Pins 'N' Needles

© Tim Barker (2001)

 

                His name was Pins, hers Needles. Together they formed a hard-core Rap act born out of disillusionment with Gangsta. They intended to take hip-hop to a new level until they reached Old Skool flavour. "Reincarnation", they said. Like the proverbial Phoenix. Rising from the ashes of a long burnt-out wreck and taming the post-apocalyptic world with solid grooves and grassroots visions.

            Pins was on his Technics, slipping the needle on the vinyl, lining up the track with one hand on the cross-fader, the other on his cans. Needles was mainlining, one hand on the belt, the other on the pin. They were indestructible. Nothing mattered except the Gospel. And the Gospel was the word. And the word was Rap.

            Laying down a beat, getting into the rhythm, feeling the space, breathing. Because with air came water and with water came life. Life. Some life.

            "Now listen here

            To what I've got to say

            Cause my rhymes are real

            I won't go away

            I'm here to stay

            For another day

            My dues I pay

            The beat I lay

            Now listen up

            I don't care to think

            Cause life does suck

            When you're on the brink

            Take it from me

            The one who's free

            What you see

            Is what you get

            And you ain't seen

            Nothing yet"

            It was lucky they were only practising because at this point Needles fell backwards onto a huge soft cushion, overcome by a great cloud of incomprehensible proportions whose soul intention was to nullify the harsh reality of Life. Some life.

            Pins continued with the aural assault, dropping in a little scratching around a breakbeat foundation.

            "Shit Pins !I can't feel my legs and they're buzzing like Fuck !"

            "Get up off y' dumb ass, I'm needing some help here !"Replied Pins.

            "Get up onto what ?"Asked Needles.

            "Oh Man, you're fucked again. How we supposed t' practice when you're floating on clouds ?"

            "Just pass me the mike, man, I'll do it from down here."

            "Yeah." Pins passed Needles the mike then returned to the sanctity of his twin decks, creating a mellow vibe conducive to alpha rhythmic mutations.

            "Feel the groove

            That helps y' move

            Get in the sound

            Deep in the ground

            Pumping bass

            Is the place

            In y' face

            Like my race

            Uprising

            Acclimatising

            Downsizing

            Truth y' hiding

            Slippery slope

            Land of no hope

            Kill the dope

            Love the Pope

            Gotta get high

            Till I die

            Don't live a lie

            Time passes by"

            That was all that Needles could manage before becoming fully recumbent, succumbing to an opiated haze which blanked out existence. As Pins and Needles knew it. One day they would be big stars but for now they could dream. And Rap.

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