THE (CHI)NESE CONNECTION

Sometimes the best times come from the least planned, least expected events...

Tuesday afternoon, on the way home from school, I got a call from Heather, which I missed. (Heather is a Jamaican friend from Toronto I met a few months ago. Right now, she's like the only Black chick I know in Nagoya, and we were both shocked to find out we live in the same neighborhood, less than 10 minutes apart by foot.)

I get home, check my cell, see Heather's name on the ID. By the time I take a load off and get ready to hit her back, I get another call, this time from Charles. Charles is a DJ homie from L.A. whom I met my first year in Nagoya. He tells me that Common is in town and is doing 2 shows at the Blue Note tonight. There was supposed to be an afterparty at another club, which he invited me to. He also told me he was going to the show, for free, as Heather's VIP "+1" guest. Free? Whoa.

Charles went on to explain how Heather had gone to Common's show the previous night at which the particularly lackluster crowd made Heather and her solo-"I'ma have fun regardless"-dancing draw Com's attention, prompting him to come offstage and perform right in front of her. After the show, Heather met Com, his DJ, and his road crew. They asked her about good local afterspots, to which she suggested a particular Hip-Hop club, to which they invited her as a guest to the following night's show.

Ah, so that's what she called me about.

"So, what's up? Are you coming?" Charles said.

"Man, y'all trying to club on a Tuesday night? I got work in the morning. I dunno...lemme call Heather. I'll let you know," I told him.

I call Heather. She gives me the horse's mouth version of Charles' story. She, too, invites me to the "afterparty."

"Bump an afterparty--I'm trying to see the show! How about hooking a brotha up with some 'VIP guest love?'" I suggested.

"I already put Charles down as my guest," she explained.

"Well, how about a "+2"?"

Heather was skeptical about getting 2 guests in under her name, but she suggested I come to the show anyway. I wasn't trying to pay the 5100 yen(~$50 US) base ticket price (The tickets went as high as 12,000 yen (over $100 US) for stageside seats). Never in life have I paid 50 bucks to see a Hip-Hop show, and never will I. I've seen the best and brightest in the game for $25 MAX--I'm not taking up the Japanese tradition of overpaying for everything.

At first, I was super reluctant to go, but after mulling over the prospect for a few seconds, I finally agreed to go--only on the condition she agree to help me in the door if I came down. She agreed.

Boom. So I get to the Blue Note right around 8:30--the time Heather said she would be there. I didn't see her, so I decided to head in the club to see if she was already inside. I make it downstairs to the admissions area where a couple club staffers with mini-mics and earphones are posted at a tiny lectern with a big reservation book. I walk up, and in straight-up English I say "Hi...I'm on the guestlist...under Heather." The staffguy seemed a bit flustered by the sudden onslaught of English-speaking.

"...Can you tell me the name?" Staffguy asks.

"Heather."

"Uhh, I'm sorry..can you write down name?"

I wrote the name down.

"What is your name?" Staffguy asks.

I tell him my name. "Do you know if Heather's here yet?

"Uhh..No." he replied.

Growing more flustered, he said "Uhh, I don't see your name, could you come over here and wait, please?"

He ushered me into the walkway leading to the main hall. I was confusing them. I think they believed I was supposed to be on the list, even though my name clearly wasn't. To put extra spin on the ball I mentioned I was from Chicago. Don't know if that meant anything to them or not. After waiting for a few moments, a staffgirl appeared.

Staffgirl, who spoke much better English than Staffguy, says,
"Oh, hi. I checked with the road manager, but your name wasn't on her list. Maybe we made a mistake. I'll talk with her again, and see if we can add your name to the list."

Wow. Talk about a Jedi mind trick. They didn't know me from Adam, but just because I was Black, said my name was on the list, and played the part, they were willing to go to lengths to help me in for free. Word.

So, Staffgirl ran off to do her thing. I wanted to call Heather, but I couldn't get reception inside the club, so I told Staffguy I was going upstairs to use my phone.

Heather eventually arrived and we met in front of the club. Before heading back in, I told her the gameplan I'd enacted. She was cool with it, and when we hit the door again, we ran the same play. The staff folk were still deliberating over how they were going to handle our situation and had ushered us off to the side again, when, seconds later, Charles came strolling in with some other Black dude whom neither of us knew. The dude said his name to Staffguy and then waltzed right on in ahead of us, with Charles tailing. Heather and I looked at each other like "What the..?" But right after that Staffguy gestured us in like, "No problem..You're okay, enjoy the show!" Yes! Score 1 for the Away team.

With a big grin on my face, we strode right up in the club, pockets unscathed. That alone had made my night. It turned out that the guy Charles rolled in with was a local musician named Ventura who'd he just met outside of the club. Ventura was on the guestlist too and had a +1 going unused, so he let Charles roll in with him, which allowed easier entry for me.

It was my first time in the Nagoya Blue Note. It was a classy venue, with a mellow, modern look and feel to it. Besides its big circular bar, it had several sections of full of chairs and tables for people to rest easy over cocktails while casually enjoying some smooth tunes--a perfect setting for jazz performances, though, totally inappropriate for a live Hip-Hop show, it seemed. I was skeptical about what kind of audience it would be. Our guest seats were at the bar, where we posted up until showtime, after which we eased over towards the reserved seating area to get a better view of the stage.

The show started promptly at 9:15, busting the calm wide open with Common running out on stage and jumping right into things with a live intro song to hype the crowd. Everybody sprang right up out their seats and got to rockin'. Different from the lackadaisical audience Heather reported from the previous night's show, this crowd acted like real heads. The format of the show was basic, yet classic: one DJ, one MC. One Common formerly known as Sense, plus one DJ Dummy, skilled turntablist and 1998 DMC champ.

We were digging the show, although it was hard to see the stage because there was a huge pillar which was retardedly built right in the middle of the club--so everyone seated behind it could only see half the stage at a time. At one point Charles tried to move closer to the reserved seats for a better view, but there was a staff security guy conveniently posted close to where we were standing to protect the "money seats" from who?--who knows. The show kept rocking and when Com performed "Come Close," he pulled some Japanese chick out the audience and started slow-dancing with her. It was funny, becasue at first Com was trying to talk to her, but she couldn't understood what he was saying, though when he broke into the song and started rapping to her, I watched this chick recite all the lyrics by heart.

About midway through the show, Com slowed things down and started talking about how Hip-Hop has come to influence the world and etc. Then he called out for Japanese emcees to come to the stage and rep their skills. At that moment, I was thinking "Aww snap" and I knew I had to represent for these cats, especially with Chicago in the house. I started hollering "Yo Com, I got this!" over and over, but I guess I was too far in the back for him to hear me. I was the only cat in there hollering out in English, so I figured he'd catch my voice, but he didn't. I tried to edge closer, but the security cat was ice grilling me. I felt my opportunity slipping, as one,...then two Japanese cats bounced up onstage. I couldn't let myself go out off a weak technicality, so at the last second, I pushed past the security dude and started barrelling through the reserved section, making my way towards the stage, still hollering. Finally, Common spotted me and beckoned for me to come up. Score 2 for the Away team!

I popped up onstage and gave Common quick dap before he was like "OK, do y'all thing" while DJ Dummy spun instrumentals. It wasn't really a competition, but it seemed like one. I felt like Eminem in '8 Mile' or something. Com passed off the mic to the first cat, but I think he chickened out cuz he wouldn't take the mic and started waving his hands like "No, I don't wanna do it!" I think he ended up hopping off the stage. So then there were two. Com passed the mic to the next Japanese guy, and he bust his flow. The crowd got hype off of him. I didn't catch a thing he was saying, but I could tell he had skill, cuz of the way his flow was coming off. I just nodded to the music, staying in rhythm, waiting. He did his thing for like a minute then came off the stage. The crowd was ecstatic. I was last and Com passed the mic off to me. I introduced myself real quick and let him know I was from the CHI. He was like "OK" and gave me a pound. I could sense the anticipation from the crowd. It'd been a while since I rocked in front of an audience, so I almost got nervous how I would come off. I felt the adrenaline starting to rush. I took a second to catch the beat, then killed it for almost two minutes. I kicked the first verse of 'Wardance' off the Metalyrical LP. The crowd went ape. Folks at the edge of the stage were hollering, reaching out trying to grab me and whatnot. I was shocked at how hype this predominantly Japanese crowd was. I was thinking "Where y'all been the last 2 years? Not in Nagoya!" It was my first time seeing a crowd of real Japanese Hip-Hop heads with the energy to match. I finished my verse and gave Dummy and Com daps before I hopped off the stage, with guys and girls on both sides of me throwing high fives and daps, including the previous emcee. When I got to my spot in the back, a young Japanese couple standing nearby was clapping and shook my hand, a couple foreigners came up and showed love. It was like I was a rap star for like all of a surreal 10 seconds. I was just pumped I got to rock alongside one of my favorite Hip-Hop artists.

The real star of the show continued his show. Towards the end, I heard some girl in the crowd holler out "Chicago," so I hollered "Where you at?" The Japanese folks looked confused--they didn't know what was going on. The show ended on a high note, but it wasn't the end of the night. Heather was supposed to meet up with Com and his crew afterwards, so we all just mingled, while Commnon signed autographs in the lounge area. Before I left the club, I ended up meeting several "new" Black folks who lived in the Nagoya area, including the chick who hollered out "Chicago" during the show--Jennifer. Originally from Ohio, Jennifer graduated from Northwestern, thus why she repped the CHI. She works for the JET Program as a translator up in Gifu City. I rapped with her for awhile, before we met Com's roadies at the bar. Two of those guys were Chicago natives, so it felt like the Chicago Connection for a second. I almost forgot where I was when heads started reminiscing over Giordano's Pizza and Cheescake Factory!

The roadies started asking about afterspots, but I told them they probably wouldn't have much luck on a Tuesday night--nothing good's popping on Tuesday nights. Soon after, the club cleared out and it was just us, club staff, and a few lingering showgoers getting autographs. Everybody was waiting for Com to finish signing and taking pictures so we could leave. The guys went to start loading the equipment, so Heather, two of her friends, and I went over to the lounge right as the autographs finished up. I got a chance to talk to Com briefly. I went up and gave him daps. He told me I was good, and asked me how long I'd been in Japan and what I was doing. When I said I was a schoolteacher, he gave me dap again. He went off and Com's road manager, a kinda young, heavyset sista with short-cropped hair came out and let us know that the plans had changed for the night. Now, they wanted to go bowling--it was kinda funny how they went from wanting to tear up da club to tearing up da bowling pins, but we were down with it, so the road manager told us to trail their van in a taxi after they finished loading up their show equipment.

"Trail your van in a taxi?!" I felt like the road manager was trying to play us like some groupies; I mean, the night before Common had personally asked Heather and some peoples to come out and kick it, not chase vans around the city. So at first, I was like "Y'all got any room in the van?," but they were packed pretty tightly, so they couldn't accomodate our group of 4. The plan was to drop the sound equipment off at their hotel then head to the bowling alley. I was in a good mood, plus none of us were driving, so I didn't trip and just went with the flow. We followed them in a taxi to the Nagoya Hilton which, luckily for us, was only about a mile away. We got to the hotel, hopped out and started heading towards the van parked at the hotel entrance, when the road manager came strutting over.

"Sorry, there's been a change of plans...the guys have their girls so they're gonna stay in and..."

Bogus. We got our bowling party intercepted by some ol' stank groupies. They were foreign girls to boot, not Japanese (I guess Common's over Erykah. Ha.) I should've seen that coming a mile away, but either way, I had had my fun for the night, so I laughed it off--though I think Heather might've been a little salty since she'd been personally invited to hang with Com and crew. Actually, I was kinda relieved since I had work the next morning, and didn't need to be hanging out at ungodly hours anyhow.

We called it a night, but not before the four of us stopped for a drink at a nearby British-style pub. We chopped it up til closing time, then bounced. The subway had long since stopped, so Heather and I shared a cab home.

Epilogue: Poor Charles had left the Blue Note ahead of us to rally up heads at another club for the "Common Show Afterparty." Litlle did he know it wasn't to be. Doh! Hope he wasn't upset at Heather. Afterall, it wasn't her fault. When in doubt, blame the groupies!