Posts Tagged ‘Andrew Reynolds’

In Which A Recent Krew Video Inspires Us To Tally Up Some All-Time Lords Of The Bucket-Hat

March 20, 2013


They say history is written by the victors, and when it comes to rewriting certain chapters, or revitalizing them for the purposes of revivalism, maybe we say the past is best remembered by those popping bottles and making it rain in the club at any given point in time. Current bottle-popper and kickflip backside noseblunter Lucien Clarke remains among the hottest ‘boarders out of London and as an employee of Palace possesses the subcultural capital to deploy for the purposes of making his mark on the scene, whatever it and that may be. So it is that this meaty clip released last week by Krew clothes documents his daring decision to get behind the bucket-hat, that vestige of late 1990s fashion long since wadded up in the fist of time and used to clobber some smaller, clumsier dimension for forgetting to stoke the rescue fire.

A Palace-branded white button-up that a waiter or Dylan Rieder might wear commands a $200 asking price on Ebay, giving the company and its team-riders gravitas in the accessorizing game, and doubling down on the bucket-hat is in keeping with prior Menace-aping efforts. But are Lucien Clarke’s shoulders broad enough to pick up and carry forward the bucket hat’s noble legacy? Here is a look back at some of its esteemed practitioners throughout the hat’s golden age.

Andrew Reynolds: The Boss is an obvious influence on Lucien Clarke’s massive nollie backside kickflips, and during his Birdhouse-moppet era a bucket-hat held down Reynolds’ locks as he launched himself down gaps and rails in “The End.” The fact that his hairdo looked sort of like a bowl cut only adds to the mystique and credibility of the hat.

Jason Dill: Probably run more as a novelty item that completed a Dr. Hunter S Thompson ensemble for a brief juice-sipping clip that featured in TWS’ “Feedback”, Dill’s foray came early in his deep dive into alternative fashion that would lead many an impressionable youngster down the proverbial garden path throughout the ’00s. You get the sense that Jason Dill probably was not that invested in the hat necessarily, but it’s interesting to ponder how he currently views its place in the world, and whether he agrees with Lucien Clarke that it is ripe for revisiting.

Chad Fernandez: Even before Chad Fernandez was drawn into a verbal sparring match with an unpaid tween amateur he gave the impression that he had something more to prove than other pros, which is maybe why in retrospect he seemed more invested in the hat when rewatching clips like his part in Osiris’ “The Storm.” A decade later Chad Fernandez has shifted to beanies for this 2011 part that features some genuinely out of hand stuff like the ollie up to crooked grind at the beloved bench-to-stair spot, a nosegrind on the rail recently wooed by Sean Malto in the Girl/Chocolate video and a high-speed one footer.

Ronnie Creager: The lord of positive vibrations was an equal opportunity endorser of headware in videos such as Es’ “Menikmati”, in which Ronnie Creager managed not to succumb to the pressure of conceptualizing a lengthy, autobiographical intro that may have featured costumes. Of all those mentioned on this brief list, the desert-dwelling Creager may today have the most legit claim to wearing a bucket-hat in the course of his current day to day, which could also involve golf and checking in on Easter Egg packages that may lie around the Southern California region unclaimed for fifteen years.

Bless this mess

May 1, 2008

street hassle

Nieratko:After you see a video like Fully Flared, how does it change the way you approach the way you film or make videos?
Andrew Reynolds: It doesn’t change my approach at all. I stick to what I know. …I watch [Fully Flared] all the time, but my personal editing technique is to make it look like a piece of trash and then put it out.

It kind of impressed me when Reynolds said that, not because I expected him to suddenly enlist in the Ty Evans school of overproduction when it comes to Baker videos, but because he sounded totally confident in his “throw everything against the wall and see what sticks and what leaves greasy smears” approach to putting a video together. I don’t know if it’s because the ramped slow-mo and incessant profiling cutaways of Fully Flared are really starting to grate after five months of re-watching (more like after a week), or if it’s because Reynolds has nailed the Baker-Bootleg formula, but the Baker Deathwish promo* so far is the most fun and rewatchable video to come out of the Baker Boys camp since they stumbled onto the scene almost 10 years ago, and for me anyway it’s the best representation yet of the company and the dudes.

Reynolds should also get credit for not letting his personal issues fuck up the whole Baker vibe. When he and Greco cleaned up a few years ago it was up in the air what kind of impact that would have on the company’s beer/buds/bros deal, but the ads stayed wild and Baker 3 was the usual cocktail of transients, pissed security and stumbling drunks who also drop the requisite hammers and so on. Except instead of Reynolds tipping back a bottle of distilled spirits he’s rolling up with a handful of Starbucks. Shoutout to Barney Gumble.

If anything, the only issue with Baker 3 was that it was maybe too focused, with its intro-part-part-friends section-part-part-kids section-part part, etc. Baker Deathwish returns to the hazy, meandering pace of the original Baker Bootleg, except with a little tighter editing and way less slow-mo. And the way the video staggers from clowning in an apartment to Ellington running somebody’s board over to heckling Koston to Antwuan Dixon singing about his fucking shrimp, it does a way better job of showing a day in the life of the Baker squad than a million Ty Evans slow-motion dolly shots of the Lakai team kicking it at the ledge spot, or Guy Mariano pushing open garage doors while Band of Horses coos in the background. Baker Deathwish has Dixon in a taco hat. Think outside the bun, people…

*Can an hour and five minute-long video really be called a promo? Excess is one of Baker’s founding values.