The Lazy Designer

I have to stop being a lazy designer. I drafted the following three paragraphs before this one, and just as I was about to conclude the blog entry, I realized: damn, I don't think it's that I can't be a good self-editor (although to an extent, it is true)—I just need to stop being lazy. A lazy designer. That almost seems like an oxymoron. I mean, design is all about details. How can I expect to compete, innovate, and land that all important high-paying technical job without effective effort and energy? It's not like design doesn't rouse me, so I need to bury the laziness once and for all. And after all, I'm getting a Master's degree—this isn't the Art Institute and I'm not just going for a design certificate. It's all about hard work and push myself out of my comfort zone.

So back to the original starting point of this blog:

I love editing...that is, editing other people's work. I guess it's my critical, overanalytical, perceptive nature at play. Sometimes those qualities are bad, like when something doesn't go perfectly at work or in a relationship. Other times, it's for good, like reviewing and critiquing someone's work, whether it's writing or design—especially if it's writing or design. When the good times roll, I make a fierce "wordsmither," grammarian, and type expert. When the bad times roll, I can be hard on myself and others...

I've never been a good self-editor, though. I mean, I'm sure at some, or many, points of our careers, we've said to ourselves and to each other these buzz words: fresh eyes, a second pair of eyes, triple-check, and so on. I say those words ALL the time because, as nitpicky as I can be able other people's work, I can't always see my own stuff. And so what ends up happening is that I get frustrated with trying to correct my own work such that the editing process tends to feel like an afterthought—a quick thing I do before I hit print.

Words & Images, and particularly this classification assignment, challenges me to ressurrect, or construct, that self-editor. Granted, in the beginning of the course, I had to force myself into phase four. When editing feels like an obligatory afterthought, having to revisit and revise feels like torture. That's the "old" me. I realized an hour ago that I, willingly and without force, stayed up all Wednesday night to tweak my classification piece, despite being happy with my original draft, and continuing work as even my work e-mail notification harasses, taunts, and begs for attention. And now comparing the two drafts and I'm saying "WOW!" I get it now.


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I see you bubbling all over the place -- you're yeasty, and I think it's grand!

Turns Out 1000 Words Feels Just Fine

Finished my writing for the Classification and I feel good about it. I came up at 914 words, or something like that. Thanks to Casey for using the magic editing wand to trim the fat from my first draft. I'm glad I produced a piece of writing for this class that I am genuinely happy about. The fruit content was written on the fly and the profile article was pre-written and combined with a follow-up story, so that it wasn't exactly cheating, though I suppose that could possibly be up for debate. 

 

I won't debate that this'll show off my writer self, who has mostly coasted through this class. (I shouldn't say that in a negative way—on the contrary, I have fallen for design harder than ever before.)

 

And I'm off to deal with that part of the assignment. I'm happy with my draft, which hopefully are easy to see from this post. I'm glad to be re-visiting this and I feel like I have not mounted in a while.

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I see you bubbling all over the place -- you're yeasty, and I think it's grand!

1000 Words Isn't Enough

Is anyone else struggling to keep to the 1000 word maximum? Granted, I can be a chatterbox (not literally, but the writer-equivalent to that). But somehow, one thousand words for my piece seems to scratch the surface of my topic (How to Buy Reggae). I can't wait to get some feedback tomorrow. This is my first draft and I haven't done any heavy editing, so I'm all ears and eyes. Although I feel like my idea is simple enough, clearly I still need to trim the fat if I can't fit it within the limit.

Main Topic: Dancehall Reggae (as narration, commentary, and storytelling)
Organizing Principle: Plotlines and Characters
Client: Vibe magazine

How to Buy Reggae: A Guide to the Unknown
by LaDonna LaGuerre

Reggae.

What five words come to mind first? Bob Marley and the Wailers?

Bob bares the responsibility of representing a basic, mainstream image of reggae—a genre largely understood as a one-dimensional continuation of drums. He croons softly in the backdrop of tourism commercials. His name always comes up first when asked, 'Hey, do you like reggae?" The natural response: "Yeah, Bob Marley's cool."

We knew reggae as jolly, positive music that seeped out of Jamaica in the 1960s, irrigated throughout the world, yes, thanks to Bob's legendary music. Unfortunately, for Bob, reggae has moved on. While peace music and slave songs will never die, modern subgenres, like dancehall, infuse and entrance a new generation of music lovers. Reggae got over dub plates and steel drums

and got into riddim riders, DJs, and dance moves, creating a fresh, 21^st-century Jamaican sound.

One problem: Dancehall can boggle the mind. Fast-flowing rhymes, a clamorous bass line, Jamaican patois, and rich, allegorical lyrics can turn off the layperson listener, or even the traditional reggae fan, from getting into this genre of music—too many barriers. A true dancehall fanatic can attest to its exclusive, almost cult-like feel.

Vibe knocks the wall down between hardcore dancehall and the average person with an interest in, and possibly an intimidation of, reggae. Before you go fishing for download sites or hit up your local music shop, read on. Learn how to buy reggae (and, maybe, how to understand the music you are buying, to which you'd be listening nonstop after pressing play on the first track).

Now you know: reggae used to mean Bob Marley and now takes on an inclusive and more contemporary definition. It's hip, energetic, and, cool—but who knew also complex? Your dancehall lesson does not end with a historical timeline.

Making your dancehall purchase always starts with format selection: DJ mix or an artist recording? The novice listener generally feels more comfortable with the latter; with experience, you move on to understand the significance and pleasure of the DJ mix—deejays sometimes have greater impact on the dancehall scene than the artist, who often cannot gain popularity without them (tabled for lesson two).

Now, to the important questions that will define your purchase:

Are you feeling tough?

Think you're a bad ass bitch?

Depressed?

Love pussy?

Need something familiar?

Hate your government?

Remember, complexity and dancehall go hand in hand. Reggae consumers do not just buy reggae—they often invest in the messages, points of view, or paradigms of the artist writing and performing the lyrics. A tough guy will buy a different type of dancehall than someone wanting to overthrow the government. Dancehall tells stories of the multi-faceted Jamaican experience, one that could involve everything: from street violence, poverty, marijuana, and self-pride, to Jah (a God-like figure), women, humor, and homophobia. These songs speak to all those plots, and others, constructing vibrant Jamaican characters (and caricatures)—which needs analysis and consideration before making a move to checkout.

Plot: Mi Bust Mi Gun

Character: The Rude Bwoy

Back in the day, in a famous reggae classic, the artist tells you: "Six million ways to die—choose one," followed up with a demonic laugh and a head-bobbing beat. Buying Badman brings you to the dangerous streets of Jamaica, the garrison, like a musical version of The Wire. Sample Badman lyrics: Bawl, Mama, bawl now. Hey Mama, buy a wreath for your son, 'cause he fucked around, now he's gonna die by my gun. And now you're gonna cry when you come, when you see his body on the ground.

Plot: Catfight

Character: The Bad Gyal

For a female to make it in a male-dominated profession, she must find an edge to be a cut-above the rest. She needs to claw her way for respect and recognition from her peers. So what if her claws dig into the faces of fellow female artists? A Bad Gyal purchase, a lyrical catfight, not only uncovers the competitive nature of the dancehall industry, but also the daily reality for Jamaicans who compete on the island for basic resources and life necessities. Sample Bad Gyal lyrics: Excuse me, miss, make me teach you some tricks. Just like a doggy, me mek him sit. Gal yuh man a lust after my kibbles and bits, 'cause me have the tactics fi ease his spirits. Watch me—make me upgrade yuh man. Me will sen him bak in better condition. When I'm done with him he'll be my likkle Superman. A nuh my fault make yuh man lust afta me.

Plot: Depression and the Black Man

Character: The Deep Brother

Peel away Jamaica's shiny façade of sand, beaches, Hedonism, Spring Break, and honeymoons and what do you find? Well, after the weed—what do you find? Shanty towns with tin roof houses. Parents working hard like slaves to feed and educate children. Frustration, poverty, and depression. Listening to the Deep Brother talk about his hard times requires empathy, passion, and possibly a drive to change the world. Sample Deep Brother lyrics: Exercise every day and I'm still not fit. My kids are hungry and I ain't got shit. What I'm gonna do, what I'm gonna do? What would you do?

[Note: I want to continue my classification to touch upon each of the question defining questions above, but last check I was at 984 words, so I'm forced to stop with a clear, finalized piece.]

(Conclusion)

Almost out of the first 21^st-century decade and, finally, dancehall has omnipresence. It's everywhere—and I don't mean Brooklyn, NY. Once upon a time, reggae acted as a backdrop to fruity cocktails, beach trips, or as the faceless bong mate. Today in the U.S., reggae blasts out of commercial radio stations, saves the night at a typical hip-hop club venue with patrons don't dance, and recognized by cable television conglomerates as viable sources of new content. Most importantly, reggae can now be a part of your music collection, chosen deliberately, carefully, and with confidence. Tomorrow, it can be pumping out of your iPod headphones.

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I see you bubbling all over the place -- you're yeasty, and I think it's grand!

How to Buy Reggae -- Classification Project Ideas

I'm forcing myself not to overanalyze. My usual MO is to overconceptualize and leave myself a day to execute. I gotta change that. In one week, two professors threw me under the microscope: Dina from Type said (paraphrased) that "I'm clearly smart. I seem to overanalyze. I need to tone down the concept and focus, too, on being visually creative...". Stephanie said that my work looks like I need to slow down. Allison, bluntly, said "You are clearly not giving yourself enough time." So I get the point. It's all (or mostly) about the execution. Get an idea and move on.

ARGH.

Naturally, that all sounds good, but here I am, in the same familar boat. What is my classifying principle? I'm glad to have been able to chat with Casey during Type yesterday to help flush out (and simplify, thank god) my concept.

So far, my title and basic premise is: How to Buy Dancehall Reggae. My purpose, I guess, is to demonstrate the complexity of dancehall reggae. Mostly, I'm saying: "Look at all this beautiful reggae; you'll never be bored -- there's so much to choose from."

But beyond that, dancehall reggae is largely misunderstood (in terms of "language barriers" as well as purpose) and, by default, overlooked and often not taken seriously, or even ridiculed. Even worse, dancehall reggae has a bad rap with certain types of groups and people. My opinion, thus far in life, is that the real, true dancehall following is like a big ass cult and certainly not for everyone. Seems to make sense. But as I listen in the car, dance to it while cleaning, bob to it while working, I always ask, aloud: HOW CAN ANYONE NOT LIKE REGGAE?

What I find most exciting and interesting about dancehall is the "riddim [rhythm] phenomenon," where producers make a beat and gives it to several reggae artists (or DJs - a reggae term for the artist -- not the guy spinning the records), who then turn around and make their own songs—essentially a selection of short stories all based on a common riddim. I love listening to see who is saying what, what lyrical techniques are in use, who is on what riddim, and most importantly, what stories are being told and how the artists and stories compare. Reggae as both a narrative or poetry, as well as a tool for cultural commentary, doesn't resonate with most mainstream music listeners -- or even reggae listeners who stick to roots & conscious.

I want to answer questions about reggae -- demystify the genre. My research alone proved this need and the lack of good information about dancehall. I found a lot of CD reviews and articles about Bob Marley. That's pathetic.

So, for How to Buy Reggae, I've come up with some categories, or types, of dancehall. I need to figure out where to focus, what to eliminate, and how best to choose an organizing principle.

Typical Dancehall Topics (this list can be subcategorized, to a give sense of the wide topic range)
Political commentary (government)
Poverty
Church
Self-care (hygiene, keeping your house clean, taking care of your kids)
Youth violence
Jah (religious)
Gangsta/Badman
Anti-Gay
Pussy Worship
General sexual explicitness ("slackness" is the reggae term)
Anti-Oral Sex
Bedroom King (male)
Bedroom Queen (female)
Comedy
Ganja
Dancing
Cat fighting
Cultural Pride
Love songs (usually called Lover's Rock)
Safe sex and sexual practices
Youth (education, health, well-being)
Relationships
Family
Food

Some ways to classify are:

• To convey a certain mood, emotion, or state of being (like, if you're feeling tough, buy gangsta...if you're feeling sexual, go for slackness...if you're in love, go for lover's...)
• To understand Jamaican culture (the various topics represent different facets of Jamican life and culture, like "The Gangsta Jamaican, The Slack Jamaican, The Praying Jamaican, The Poor Jamaican, etc.)
• To answer the basic question of "WTF is reggae?" (I would group the topics above by larger categories - sexual, gangsta, social awareness, etc.)
• To promote reggae artists (The classification itself would be the artist and the information write up would discuss the type of reggae he records)
• To translate lyrics and meaning and to gain new understand about reggae (This is twofold: 1) in the language barrier sense and 2) in the double entedre sense, which makes up for a lot of reggae -- most of it is one big metaphor. So, for example, a famous comedian once joked about a common phrase in dance "Lord, have mercy," which he heard as "laura mercy" and wondered: "Who the fuck is Laura Mercy?" I would select lyrics from a song from each category, translate, and discuss/put in conext).

I said I wasn't overanalyzing, right? Laura Mercy!

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I see you bubbling all over the place -- you're yeasty, and I think it's grand!