Colin Munroe at SOB’s on July 29 + Free MP3 Download of “Get Even” by The Kickdrums ft. Colin Munroe

flyerColin Munroe is making his first NY headline appearance at SOB’s on Wednesday, July 29th!

You’ve probably heard the dope mixtape, Colin Munroe is the Unsung Hero featuring Wale, Drake, Joell Ortiz, Black Milk, and more. If you haven’t, download it here: www.myspace.com/colinmunroe.

The full-length album Don’t Think Less of Me, will be released this fall on Universal Motown.

On Wednesday, Colin will be supported by Cleveland duo The Kickdrums, and Giant Step has a free, exclusive track available to you. Download The Kickdrums “Get Even” feat. Colin Munroe HERE.

SOB’s, Wednesday, July 29th, Doors @ 8pm, Show @ 9pm

Advance tickets at SOBs.com and TicketWeb.

$13 advance, $15 day of show

Download “Get Even” by The Kickdrums featuring Colin Munroe (right-click to download)

Giant Step Presents SVEDKA Vodka Sessions: Wale with Special Guest Mark Ronson

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We are proud to announce the start of SVEDKA Vodka Sessions, a new concert series brought to you by Giant Step and SVEDKA, bringing the very best bands and emerging artists. The series will take place in New York at Private Park in Hudson Hotel, Los Angeles at Skybar at Mondrian Hotel, and Miami at the The Florida Room in Delano.

Click here to RSVP. RSVP limited to one person per email.

More Info

Giant Step’s Resident 23: Little Jackie, Brazilian Girls, Platinum Pied Pipers, Wale and Blu

Photo of Wale at SOB’s © Antwan Duncan

By Mawuse Ziegbe

On Thursday, I learned something: Steve Madden is a real person. I just never saw that coming. But he is real and showed up to the Giant Step Little Jackie party at the Steve Madden store in the L.E.S. He and other non-imaginary people came to see Little Jackie perform acoustic renditions of their playful repertoire from their new album, The Stoop. Little Jackie’s wily frontwoman Imani Coppola, who often misbehaves in concert (much to my personal glee), played a restrained yet enjoyable set, including songs “Guys Like When Girls Kiss” and “28 Butts.” She seemed like she wanted get into some trouble (maybe knock over a sandal display or throw a bag of peds in the air) but she played the good girl role quite well.

On Friday, a girl I know, let’s just call her Bawuse, had a horrible time at the Brazilian Girls show at Prospect Park. She went out with a nice enough fella whose friends deployed one of the most effective cock-block campaigns in modern history. He introduced Bawuse to one friend who gave her the side-eye. Bawuse learns later, that she’s the friend of an ex-girlfriend which made Bawuse an enemy most foul. Another friend took creepy pose pictures and grilled her on reasons why she and her date weren’t going home together. You know those great, successful people who are chronically single? Bawuse learned there is no easy way of saying, “if you ever want to get some, throw your friends off a bridge.” As far the Brazilian Girls’ actual show, Bawuse thought the cavernous annals of Prospect Park engulfed the ambient rhythms and frontwoman Sabina Sciubba’s subtle and cozy vocals. But Sciubba was all types of fierce in a dress that looked like an angular cream-puff and the pillars of smoke that flared up from the crowd when Sciubba sang “pussy, pussy, pussy marijuana” made Bawuse giggle.

I spent most of Saturday getting my sloth on. I blew a couple hours gossiping in the park and then I got some cake. Cake with frosting. But for serious, I really got going when I saw Platinum Pied Pipers at Southpaw. They were dressed in pimpalicious shades of Dover like they just left a white party thrown by Sly Stone. And they brought the partaaay with three live-ass singers and bucket loads of joy. They rounded out the half-hour performance with their clangy cover of Paul Simon’s “50 Ways To Leave Your Lover.” Mostly, I had fun because they had fun. So snaps in a circle to artists with job satisfaction.

Sunday, I hit the Afropunk block party featuring The Ceasarz, J*Davey and Kudu (Oh, and am I the only one starting to feel out of place at summer shindigs because I don’t have an Afro and a toddler?).One of my favorite underrated bands, The Carps brought their crazy Canadian ways to Clinton Hill. They had this weird robbery interlude that they reenacted live which made my head hurt. They sang their Bel Biv Devoe-meets-Poison track “Compton To Scarboro” and some new ish I didn’t recognize. They bounced between instruments with Jahmal singing and drumming and Neil strumming and tinkling. Snaps in a circle to the duo for embodying the colloquialism “hold it down.”

Later, Wale and Blu tore up S.O.B.s. Blu had the audience swooning over his snappy rhymes and Exile flashed his turntabling skills. Skillz threw down with a surprise performance and Talib Kweli jumped in the last song. But Kweli didn’t like, rap or anything. He just yelled a few “yeahs” and left the stage like nothing happened. Awk-ward. Then Wale came out. For someone whose image is so swaggerific, he was refreshingly democratic with his stage show. He kicked his rhymes, including his verse from his Roots collabo “Rising Up” but he was mostly recounting the history of go-go and letting his band and DC group UCB shine. At one point he stopped to answer a text but I didn’t mind, because he set up a machine of musicians who kept it jumpin.’ I’ve been to many shows where I’ve stared at some rap music singer pacing about and have wanted to shoot a crossbow in my eye. So, snaps to artists with the confidence to let the music take center stage.

Giant Step’s Resident 19: Bugz In The Attic, Brown Girls Burlesque, The Roots Picnic, J*Davey

By Mawuse Ziegbe

I know a lot of you beautiful flowers were wilting in this weekend’s oven fresh heat but I was cookin,’ honey. And I ran into some children who didn’t let the heat stop them no way. Monday night, DJ Daz-I-Kue of Bugz In The Attic was serving up global burners including fiery Afrobeat, disco and tribal house selections at The Hudson Hotel. And Wednesday night, the fabulous people let me moonlight in their world at the Fashion Delivers Pay It Fashion Forward event (ooh, what a cute pun!) honoring young designers. It was hosted by chipper ex-”House Of Style” host, Daisy Fuentes (ooh, where has she been?) at Marquee. Of course, the hook for me was Janelle Monae who swayed the blasé fashion types with a table dance and blithe accompaniment from her bewigged guitarist Kellindo.

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Janelle Monae © Jason Green

Thursday night, the fashion types gave me a reality check as I partook in a long, storied New York tradition: getting shut out of a party. Giant magazine cover girl Kimora Lee Simmons hosted an issue release party at Indochine. We loitered outside – I was with a writer whose story appears in the issue – while the doormen shooed us away, barking some business about capacity and not being shallow enough (I kid, I kid). After catching Kimora’s dramatic arrival, towering above a clutch of bodyguards (for serious, that woman is like, 10 feet tall. I’m not convinced her name isn’t Kimora Lee Bunyan), me and some other little people went to the House of Campari and did it up royal. The three-story loft housed loads of the bitter Italian liquor with groovy 70s-era commissions lining the walls including a shrine featuring a disco album by Robert “Benson” Guilliame. Outta sight.

Chicava HoneyChild at Brown Girls Burlesque © Vishnu Hoff

Last week, Prince Rogers Nelson got his AARP card and I celebrated by taking in the Shockadelica tribute by Brown Girls Burlesque. You know, instead of choking down EZ-Baked brownies, shimmying topless to “Kiss” is what I always envisioned my imaginary big sister would teach me. It was all fun and boobs as women of all sizes got the crowd all hot and bothered to songs from all eras of Prince. Then at midnight, ladies with hot draggy names like Miss AuroraBoobRealis and Sunshine Fayalicious passed out shots of purple likka (which went down like a fistful of needles). And the crowd went batshit when Dame CuchiFrita, undressing to “Little Red Corvette,” clamped the jumper cables to her…nevermind. You can find out how to join at www.myspace.com/browngirlsburlesque

Saturday, I rode the Chinatown bus in 90-degree heat to The Roots Picnic in Philly (and why was Zoe Kravitz slummin’ it in the seat in front of me?). I love how their idea of “picnic” is an outdoor festival complete with inflatable castles and um, baked bean stands. I caught Deerhoof which was weird; beeping noises and disjointed “rhythm.” Yeah. Although audio problems plagued the day-long concert, Sharon Jones and The Dap Kings as per usual, shut it down. And I’ve seen the The Roots googol times and they’re just swell. They rocked everything from their own “Love Of My Life” to a pop medley featuring “SexyBack.” Even legendary bassist Hub came back for a special solo. And 8 hours after the show began, Gnarls Barkley took the stage. Although Gnarls was fine (no funny costumes), the audience was kind of stoned, er…tired and the LSD grooves were not helping. Cee-Lo even asked, “Did you hear the album.” The crowd responded with a slack-jawed, “whaaa?” Blame the ooweee.

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Gnarls Barkley © Mel D. Cole

Sunday night back in NYC I tried to get my culture game up by taking in Rachelle Ferrell at Blue Note. Blue Note is one of those institutions shrouded in New York legend but the performance was memorable because they had zero air conditioning. Or a fan. Or a window. But the heat ain’t stop Rachelle no way and she performed a gaggle of jazz and pop songs until she was literally soaking. And I have never witnessed that level of vocal virtuosity. She would jump from a sharp, tinny falsetto to a cavernous, guttural bass note – in the same word. Can we get a summer blockbuster featuring Rachelle Ferrell dissolving amateurs with her vocal prowess?

Afterwards, I saw J*Davey pack the house at S.O.B.s. Following high-energy sets from Taylor McFerrin and the duo Heavy (homeboy had a key-tar that sprayed spoogy silly string on the audience), Jack Davey and Brook D’Leau, backed by a live band, played a grip of their famously synthy catalog like “Slooow” and even a cover of “Message In A Bottle” by The Police. The highlight was during the slow-jam “No More” when girl-crazy NYC photog Mel D. Cole undressed Jack down to her black bustier and lacy boy shorts. My girl who took the tempo slowdown as a cue to fetch a beverage came back just as Jack pulled on her shirt and chirped, “What did I miss?”

Oh and before I go, FYI: Wale’s “Seinfeld”-inspired Mixtape About Nothing is that good good. Download it (and maybe rub it on your teeth to make them tingle). You’re gonna need something to keep cool.

Giant Step’s Resident: The City, The Sounds, The Soul Part 2

Photo of Kid Sister © NickyDigital.com

By Mawuse Ziegbe

Last month, The Natural History Museum hosted a gang of Chicago-bred, genre-blending upstarts from the Fools Gold label. It was a Flavorpill production that turned the site of numerous ennui-inducing school field trips, into an electro-hop playground. Hip hop tag team The Cool Kids, known for their musical-head-nod-to-the-old-school single, “Gold And A Pager,” busted on stage with their reliable bag of rowdy tricks. Then Kid Sister, in a shimmery disco-flapper ensemble, doused the crowd with super sass, performing body-rockin’ numbers like “Let Me Bang.” But the skinny jeans really hit the fan when Kanye West hit the stage with a surprise performance and dropped his verse from Kid Sister’s single, “Pro Nails.” Mr. West then put on a mini-concert with tracks from his latest album including “Good Life” and “Stronger.” The party made a few headlines which mostly gushed about Kanye’s impromptu performance. But the real story is the hip, young artists who made the party possible. Kid Sister and The Cool Kids have the swagger to pack hundreds into a sprawling planetarium on the upper west side and are tossing out online releases met with bubbling critical buzz. Even with delighted critics and rapturous fans, including Grammy-winning rappers, some kids, through no fault of their own aren’t going to hit big. So, instead of list of artists who will hit big in the ’08, I’ve compiled a list of kids who should get gobbled up by the masses but are simply too cool for mainstream consumption (Also, while reading these predictions, please take note of the tongue in my cheek).


Photo of Santogold © Mel D. Cole.

Santogold
Santogold, the dub/rock/electro project fronted by A&R turned rock-star Santi White, has been popping up on “Next Big Thing” lists from the BBC to Rolling Stone to The Fader. She’s showstoppingly adorable. She sits comfortably at the popular kids table, collaborating with artists like M.I.A., Mark Ronson and Spank Rock. And it doesn’t hurt that she’s wicked talented. She had a hand in the production of singer Res‘ debut album 2001 How I Do. Her latest music is laced with the same dubby, wafty tones and rockin’ urgency as the Res’ project. Producer Switch is helming her full-length.
Why She Might Go Bust:
Her esoteric lyrics and genre-averse sound might make it hard to brand her for the Wal-Mart crowd.
Why She Might Go Big:
Homegirl’s music is downright loveable! Angsty but with the most feathery vocals. Refreshing combo and with the proper co-signs by her friends in fly places (M.I.A. Mark, et al), she could be a contender.

Kid Sister
The aforementioned Kid Sister is bringing back sass in a big way. Her style is reminiscent of legendary b-girls Salt-N-Pepa and she counts ‘90s girl groups like Xscape and Total amongst her influences. On wax, her delivery is punchy and her rhymes are real – she goes off on everything from horny guys (“Telephone”) to hooked-up nails (“Pro-Nails”). While she definitely bring the girl powah, what really sets her apart is her refreshing humility. In her live performances she genuinely seems happy to be there. There’s a lot of, “thank you guuuuys!!” and kissy-faces to her boyfriend/DJ A-Trak (bless them for taking the Ashford & Simpson approach to hitmaking).
Why She Might Go Bust:
Her sound is fun and “serious” and “significant” stars aren’t supposed to be fun. She’s gotta pick up some pesky drug addiction or make electro-driven funereal music to turn the tide.
Why She Might Go Big:
She’s got swagger like Kanye, off and on the mic, but her ego is considerably more manageable. In a sense, the anti-Kanye.

Wale
DC has a soul history but not many hip hop stars boast a Chocolate City pedigree. Wale could potentially make his city pop his nimble lyrical action. I guess you could peg him as an East coast Lupe Fiasco in terms of skill level but he takes himself a lot less seriously. And thankfully too because that means droppin’ rhymes over anything that’s kicky from J.U.S.T.I.C.E.’s tinkling disco gem “D.A.N.C.E.” to Mark Ronson’s velvety instrumentals (he’s signed to the producer’s Allido label). He brandishes his envy-inducing rhymes skills with a swaggerlicious ease that pop music could use right now.
Why He Might Go Bust:
There are only so many songs you can make about your footwear (Meh, at least the kid has a hobby).
Why He Might Go Big:
He’s intellectual without being depressing. And he’s got that innate hipness that the masses flock to Pharrell for. More a tastemaker than a taste-chaser.
Whether or not these artists and many more like them lock down endorsement deals and receive gilded mini phonographs this year is fairly irrelevant. Pop success isn’t even all that appealing anymore since scandals and psych wards are what seems to keep people in the news these days. In a perfect world, we’d be making it rain on stars like the aforementioned up-and-comers. But since we live in the real world, perhaps the least we can do is give these artists little green pieces of paper in exchange for a few minutes of fun.