Posts Tagged ‘Life Extention’

Was Nyjah’s Rave the Most 1990s Thing So Far This Summer?

August 5, 2017

Who killed not only Tupac, but Biggie, Big L and nearly shot Harlem crooner Keith Sweat over a girl? What did Tupac tell Nas after dissing him on camera in Bryant Park, what made Beanie Siegel blast a cop in Philadelphia, who did Madonna secretly set up to the feds, and what did Big Punisher look like when he was skinny? It’s all revealed in an engrossing Twitter ramble archived here detailing the most celebrated rap goons of the 1990s, who they beefed with, who they bankrolled and their deepest desires. This series of anonymous Twitter tweets rapidly has become required reading not just for rap music CD owners ‘of a certain age,’ but also many starry-eyed wonderers and would-be corporate climbers unafraid of plush jumpsuits and going upside a rival’s head with a bottle of champagne in the club. It was a decade of power and song, when Bill Clinton ruled from sea to sea, riches poured from freshly manufactured Internet computers, and bus-sized crocodiles wallowed in their own filth before stalking platinum-selling country music artists across the Great American West.

Truly, the 1990s is in again full swing. Last week Aesthetics and Elwood impresario Sal Barbier delivered a lengthy dissertation on shoe designerism and dreams of speed metal guitar wizardry amid Plan B’s mystical formation and Sole Tech’s triple cell division. DC affiliates John Shanahan and Josh Kalis have been hyping with Stevie Williams a Droors revival and around box-canyon campfires, whispers of an OG Lynx reissue. Living tributes to the decade’s virility now run the gamut, from the Flexfitted cut-and-sew of the latter years to the flapping cotton of the goofy boy era.

The title of 1990s grand master can ultimately be decided solely by a gory, wig-ripping battle royale set atop a mountain peak. But all of these recent activities overlook the most powerful recent entry that is an actual rave hosted by repeated contest winner Nyjah Houston, dripping with sports cars, autotuned lyrics, complaining neighbors, and Life Extention apparel. Webster’s dictionary defines a rave as an event containing techno music, DJs, dancing, garish outfits, sunglasses and positive vibes, and so it is obvious that Nyjah’s daytime soiree meets the classical definition of a Rave.

Raves were an important square in the cultural crazy quilt that was the 1990s. Ravers were lovingly tweaked via Fuct clothing while providing future inspiration for future lines of meticulously designed T-shirts. For many, these ‘techno campouts’ represented the future promise of endless possibilities and potential — much like Nyjah’s rave video:

“I remember reading a quote from Steve Albini in which he said that a thousand people standing in a field listening to electronic music and high on Ecstasy aren’t going to change the world,” Orrall says. “And I disagreed with him.”

Can a well-attended patio party, unmolested by cops, change the world or at least crown the summertime king of ’90s shit? After exhausting early 1990s fashion tropes is the next logical move to unearth Christian Hosoi’s spandex dabblings, or did the girl jeans period already effectively achieve this? Has a common love of raving united Ty Evans with Nyjah Houston to reclaim the glory of the ‘Feedback’/’Modus’ TWS vids? Do you think Nyjah will get a face tattoo?

Can Somebody Please Link Up The Most Recent Footage Of Tom Penny Because I Have Reason To Fear He May Have Been Killed As Part Of A Sacrificial Weed-Smoking Ritual

August 29, 2013

howhi

Appealing to deities and cosmic powers generally is nothing new for would-be comer uppers in the skate game, and dabbling in the occult originally became passe when Neil Blender declared skulls and the 1990s to be the stylistic equivalent of oil and water. While none of this has prevented today’s yung ams from attempting to one-up the next man by partaking in Satanic tattooing or observing blasphemous abrupt-transitional rites, troubling new evidence has emerged that points to a bizarre and horrific Cheech & Chong-meets-Burzum scenario that may have claimed the life of English easy-goer Tom Penny.

This recent raw footage of onetime Flipper Eric Fletcher on first viewing pleases in all the typical Tom Penny ways — a series of lazy tricks rifled off into a treacherous embankment, lackadaisical shove-its and 180s out of things, a switch frontside tailslide on a rail. Eric Fletcher shares with Tom Penny a certain kind of hermitic lean but this footage is more than a little frightening because the pleasant stylings distract from the only logical scenario, which is that Tom Penny has been slain and cremated so that his ashes can fertilize a rogue cannabis plant that bears drugs which, when smoked, imbue the damnable toker with Tom Penny’s knowledge and powers. At the time of this blogging Eric Fletcher is believed to be on the loose and armed with a psychic bong that owns mystical powers and a rap CD.

How Many Months Do Yall Give Nick Trapasso’s Company With The Misspelled Name?

February 21, 2012

Probably it’s yet another sign that I’m getting older and higher strung and less cool with kids on the proverbial lawn that I look at the newly launched Life Extention Skateboard Group LLC and wonder not so much at its lifespan as much as the fact that it came together in the first place — when bros ten years older than I no doubt mumbled and grumbled the same thing about a decade back, around the unsteady unveiling of Baker. Say what you will about the various and sundry looks pursued by Jim Greco in the years since, but the Baker Bootleg boys bottled and guzzled the lightning of a very particular aesthetic that proved a lot longer-lived than even I would’ve thought, and I was a fan, although it seems like their vices/demons have plumbed greater depths than than this foglit new guard.

I’m not sure what they got together for the trade show, but they did approve a canned quote for a press release last month:
“The Life Extention Skateboard Group looks forward to working together with Blitz, to create an essential skateboard brand. Extend it,” said Trapasso.

As a card-carrying fan of the recently rejailed Lennie Kirk and respecter of risk-taking, I am compelled to acknowledge sheer balls, and the life-extenters look to be packing church bells — spearheaded by one of the industry’s spaciest cadets, sporting a misspelled name*, co-signed by malcontent recluse J Strickland, formed in the middle of an economic slow patch that’s steadily separating the old and infirm from the pack. Not that I’d begrudge the existence of a Tom Cruise-inspired company backed by some of the finer fuckups to fumble a tattoo gun in recent years, with the laid-back gumption to make good on the vow to deal decks out of their garage. If anything more of these kinds of shots oughtta be taken, even if the target’s invisible through a cloud of smoke and barrier of beer cans, to balance out the Business Plans For Dummies 2nd Edition strategizing and and paint-by-number logo decks pumped out each season. And what if they do blow it? Those early Big Brothers command classic status, and it was all those dudes could do to get issues out every couple months back then.

*I don’t believe that shit that they did it on purpose