Destination: Guam: Day One

So, after what seemed to be an eternal flight to complete nothingness, we finally land in Guam. Not really knowing what to expect from this tiny speck on the globe, we touched ground to an army of Jabba fanatics, complete with signs, leis and a big red Hummer limo with the insignia pasted on the door. Even the customs officers that were escorting us outside were snapping pictures. Phil leans to me and asks, "Are we gonna need security for our security?"



The minute we step outside, It's like the movie Backdraft. A sudden rush of heat wraps around my face like a hot towel. Luckily, the AC was blasting in our limo. So much so, it started to get super-chilly. Finding a balance in temperature was a bit of a fight. Finally, our ride dumps us off at our BALLIN'-ASS hotel. The first to greet us was Phi, who had flown in from Canada earlier that day.

I don't know who thought it would be funny to stick Phil and I in room 666, but we got a few laughs from that. After putting our bags down and wiping off a good layer of sweat, we were led through the freight elevator and through the kitchen to our V.I.P. meet-and-greet at the hotel's bar. The scene was a lot like Goodfellas. I attempted to get a one shot, but my camera can only take so much at such a high quality. Suddenly, the door flies open...

BOOM! Cameras flashing, people screaming, music blasting, as they announce our arrival. The boys take the stage as Fred and I (the road manager and the lowly DJ) watch on. After a formal introduction to Guam, we find our way to V.I.P., where we enjoy Subway sandwiches and shots of some red shit that tasted like Maraschino Cherry Syrup and Jager. The DJs drop some breaks (shouts to Wrexxshop), and the fellas take turns freestyling as Chris catches up with his G-U fam. After getting completely smashed (well I was, for sure), we retire to our assigned rooms to catch some much-needed Zs.

Melee Mayhem: Day Two

In the morning, I attempted to work out in the in-house gym with the fellas. Before I could bend a knee, Lisa Lisa (or just Lisa, as I know her now) walks in with one of her dancers. She greets us with a smiley "good morning, boys!" I surprisingly maintained my cool and greeted her back. Needless to say, we were all pretty starstruck.

We then responded to a buzz about a breakfast buffet that included bacon, a phenomenal eggs benedict on a bed of cornbread and guava mimosas, amongst other delicious breakfast dishes. It was the best breakfast I have ever had. Straight up. Monstered it.



Ran out to the beach. Watched in maniacal laughter as Phil and Chris struggled to get into a kayak, wearing matching Crooks shorts. TWIN SISTERS=TWISTERS! Passed the fuck out on a lounge chair near the pool, that I had intended on jumping into before I went down for the count. Woke up to the Kaba Modern posse working their way towards the bar. Hollered at 'em, at headed to the room to work on my mix for the show.



The Wowie had me stuck. I almost forgot how to use ProTools. Lost track of time, giving me only five minutes to get in the shower and hop in the van for our tech rehearsal for the Summer Melee show. I was late by twelve minutes.

After marvelling at our spacious, vanity-equipped dressing room, we decided to check out Kaba's tech rehearsal. After they wrapped up, I stepped up to the plate to set up for our run-through. Fired up my laptop, pulled up Serato, sighed in relief that my hard drive had actually been read. And as soon as I plugged in the Serato box, my MacBook gives me the screen of death, which prompted me to restart my computer in seven different languages. Luckily, DJ C let me transfer the files to his computer so I could run my show from it.






Our run-through went real smooth. Wish I could've said the same for my computer. These guys never cease to amaze me. I was finally able to see what the fellas had been brewing up to our new batch of songs. Afterwards, we lounged back at the hotel until showtime.


We headed back to the venue around 9pm to get dressed for the show. I had a chance to catch Lisa Lisa performing "Let the Beat Hit 'Em into a housey medley of "Head To Toe", "Lost In Emotion" and "I Wonder If I Take You Home". She's still a powerhouse, and looks great in person. Backstage, I managed to get a video drop from the L-Double herself, which I will post later.



Kaba Modern hit the stage and completely ripped it. In fact, they rocked a few sets, from my understanding. Every time I ran into them, they were panting and sweating bullets.

Showtime. A sea of what appeared to be about 3000+ fans erupted in shrieks and chants. I did my opening set and brought the fellas out to the stage. Needless to say, they left it smoking. It was great to see the new routine, with our new music, in full costume. At the last piano note of the set, I popped up with a mask and hat on. I love how these guys get me as fully involved as possible.

Right after, it was straight into a van to catch a flight to Oahu for a quick night club gig. After a slight delay, a freestyle (rap) session with Phil and Chris (LLB!), and some unsuspecting fans, which included a 20-deep troupe of pre-teen polynesian dancers, we jetted to a place called Level 4.



A theater by day, night club by night, this place was ridiculously packed. But with help from my boys in security (Big Kevin!). I got through the hot, sweaty crowd without a problem. They had me feeling mad important while they shoved people by their faces to let me through. Just kidding.



The Jabbas hit the stage, tore it out the frame, and again, left it smoking. We decided to stay for a while and chill out in our own VIP section. I got trashed. But it was a good opportunity to chill out with Belle and Stephanie (of Jabbawockeez LLC aka the Jabbawifeys). They are both very genuine peeps. Definitely can't wait to hang out with them again.




Again, we were put in baller-ass hotels. This time, we all had our own rooms. This is when your groupie-less hero retires to his room to get a wink of sleep in.

Kidnapped by 5 dudes in masks and taken to Hawaii.

I'm so tired. I haven't slept a wink. I'm sooooooo tired. My mind is on the brink....

After a long night of DJing and getting my grind on (in more ways than one, wink-wink) at FM Thursdays (my weekly residency in SJ with my FB cohorts and good indusrty buds Mass Production), and an elegant dinner at Denny's, I jetted home to pack for my ten day excursion with the Jabbawockeez. Our mission starts in Maui, where we will be rocking the Summer Melee with Lisa Lisa (sans Cult Jam), Kaba Modern, one of the original Cover Girls, and a gang of local acts.

So with paradise just a flight away, why was I dumped in Salt Lake City for a THREE HOUR LAYOVER?! And to top it off, there aren't any designated smoking areas to be found. I'm thinking these smoking rooms have been phased out of all US airports in the last couple of years. The last time I found myself in one of these death boxes was in Atlanta, Georgia a couple years back. It was very nasty and I couldn't help but feel like I (and evryone else in there) was being put on display as an example of how not to live your life. It had me questioning my uncontrollable need for nicotine. What I wouldn't give for a death box right now.

Well, I can keep bitching like a bitchy bee-itch, or I can make good of the situation. When life gives you three hour layovers, make beats. Here's my mobile setup:




Finally, after a total of eleven hours on the plane, I finally made it to Maui. Karey, the promoter picked me up from the airport. Met up with the fellas at the hotel, had some foofy drinks, had dinner with Kaba Modern and Angel of the Cover Girls. And then, she came...

Lisa Lisa (!) and I, chillin' at dinner.



Then on to sign some autographs with the fellas. I didn't think I was going to sign any, but the kids know about us out here! That was nice.








Later, DJ C and Kutmaster Spaz invite me to spin a set at the meet and greet. My laptop decided to make me look bad by not reading my external drive, which carries about 98% of my entire music selection for DJ sets.

After a few restarts, I just decide to rock whatever was on DJ C's laptop, which luckily included James Brown's "Funky Drummer". So, I doubled up on that like any self-respecting hip-hop DJ would.

After a Henn and Coke (for my FBs back at home, and a lengthy phone conversation with a new friend, it was back to the room for some room service ($30 for a Turkey Sandwich and two cans of Guava Juice?!), and some long-anticipated sleep...

An intro that's good to go...

What's the word, y'all? My name is Cutso. I am a Bay Area-based DJ. My crew, the Fingerbangerz, will kill your crew.

OK, so now that we got the formal introduction done-zo, welcome to my blog. I'll be sharing with you my misadventures locally, as well as on the road. As an active DJ, I see and hear a lot of crazy shit on a nightly basis. Some nights maybe better than others, but I'll do my best to over-exaggerate even the most mundane details to make ALL of my updates an endless typhoon of excitement and orgasmic bliss. Even when I'm doing no more than mackin' a platter of nachos at my dining table. That shit's gonna be like watching Spartacus on PCP.

I'd say that this blog is sort of a spin-off of my WTTM Radio blog (also run by my boys Nate Nothing, superstar music journalist David Ma, and fellow Fingerbangerz Crew member Squareweezy.) Like Joanie and Chachi to Happy Days, except with cursing and shit. Fuck.

My blog, like most hip/hip-hop/hipster/hip-replacement blogs these days, will contain music, photos, videos, political/social commentary, kinky sex stories, and other pieces of information and resources. I'll also be posting some of my mixes and beats, and the latest on me, my crew and anyone else I'm backin', so keep checking back. So sit back, relax, cuddle that big, bad bitch of yours, and enjoy the ride.