Hip-hop

There was a saying during the Harlem Renaissance that went, “I’d rather be a lamppost in Harlem than the Governor of Georgia.”

Tonight, I’d rather be a lamppost on Woodward Avenue in Detroit than anything or anywhere else.

Today marks the two year anniversary of James “J Dilla” Yancey’s death – a moment in time that kicked off possibly the worst year in Michigan hip-hop.

And I miss Shoes’ House.