Christmas Time, 3rd grade, I received my first boom box and three CDs. Incredible. I spent all of Jesus' fake birthday listening to Aerosmith's Big Ones and R.E.M.'s Monster while muted reruns of 80s SNL occupied mine eyes. The third Cd, The Original Cast Recording of Pippin, laid dormant in it's plastic sheath (My 3rd grade class sang the opening song from Pippin, "Magic to Do", and my parents thought I would love to hear the rest of the whimsical suckfest... they were incorrect).
The next day we packed up the Jeep Cherokee Lorado and headed out to the wet and wild northern regions of New York State to visit relatives. Clearly, my uncle got word from the inside that I received a radical box of boom as well as two collections of steaming rock and roll (and fucking Pippin, a musical tale about a magical prince coming out to his parents... I assume), because he provided me with a fourth CD that day. Four CDs! At this rate of album consumption I was well on my way to becoming a fat snobby record store owner with patchy facial hear and an unused penis! Oh, to dream!.
The CD my uncle provided me was MTV's Party To Go Vol. 5. Whoa. Intense. I had the rock, I had the show tunes, but now, now I had this compilation of urban treats. I could finally relate to the one black kid in my class! To fully comprehend my elation one must take heed to the list of tracks on this sextacularly fly mix...
If my nine year old self didn't cry when someone tried to make him dance he would have boom, shook, shook the room and whoomp there it is'd until his Samba clad feet bled. Instead, he laid on his stomach, head facing the speakers, slightly lowering the volume whenever his parents walked by. It was fucking awesome.
"Well, knockin' da boots actually means two boots coming together, making tasteful lust" - H-Town
"Well, knockin' da boots actually means two boots coming together, making tasteful lust" - H-Town