Downtown Calling

“In the late 1970s, the “greatest city in the world” was teetering on the edge of total chaos. A failed economy, crime and en mass housing corruption gave way to a city in crisis. Yet out of the economic and social strife that held the “Big Apple” hostage, a family of homegrown cultures that would forever change the world began to emerge. Downtown Calling not only documents, in detail, the evolution of New York City’s fertile music and art subculture during this period, but how its collective output continues to play a prominent, driving role in the international fashion, art and music industries today.”

Thanks to Jon Moskowitz’s retweet of Gak City’s post for putting me onto this, looking forward to getting the chance to check it out. I’m so fascinated with this time and era since I was able to catch glimpses growing up…

Although at the time I was living all the way uptown in Washington Heights, and only five years old, 1977 was a year that was indelibly emblazoned on my mind. I was just beginning to know the difference between my ass and my elbow, but still impressionable enough to remember so much that went on in the city throughout that year. Everyday I would see The Daily News and New York Post on my kitchen table and their sensationalized covers, learning to read by sifting through it’s pages. I’d listen to my parents discussing current events and what was being said on the nightly news. My developing mind’s curiosity would make me ask questions and in their best way they would to try simplify things to make me understand or shield me from the harsh realities that were truly going on.

I was mainly oblivious to the squalor, but I remember there was a distinct and different vibe back then. Our city was literally bankrupt, corrupt and extremely polarized. There was a mayoral race that included Mario Cuomo, with the winner being Ed Koch, both of whom would go on to be integral parts of New York’s political scene. Crime was really, really rampant; there was a gang epidemic, we had a serial killer nicknamed the “Son of Sam” who had the city shook and a blackout in the Summer that led to widespread looting. All of these events and elements were leaving the city close to shambles. At the time, the rest of the country including our President didn’t seem to care if New York City fell off the face of this earth.

Through it all, New York City showed it’s resilience. After a tumultuous season the Yankees won the World Series in dramatic fashion, lifting the city’s spirits like the team was carrying us on their back. And while New York was decaying, it also began to go through a transformation reflective of all the angst and energy of its people.

I was too young to experience all the cultural aspects, but I do remember hearing my first Hip Hop record during a student ‘show and tell’ in my kindergarten class. Never heard anything like it in the world, which left such an impression on me. My sister who was eleven years older than me and going to high school at Music and Art would tell me about her friends and experiences. Mind you, I had no idea nor did I care, I just wanted to watch cartoons and play on my Big Wheel. She would later confess to me that I was sort of her ‘therapist’, telling me all kinds of things knowing full well that I was absolutely oblivious and didn’t understand. I can recall her telling me about her friends like Ricky Powell, showing me pictures of Andy Kessler (R.I.P.) and the original Zoo York crew skateboarding. She’d show me her black book with pieces Zephyr and other artists made for her and when we’d ride the train together, she’d point out tags and top-to-bottoms done by friends she knew. It was funny to get the opportunity to meet some of the friends she’d told me about when I was much older. I’d introduce myself telling them I was her younger brother, which led to surprised responses, but little did they know that I looked up to, and had respect for them just from the ‘urban legends’ and stories my sister told me.

As I got older and things began to make (a little) sense to me, I would live vicariously through her especially since I moved to Staten Island and she was still living in Manhattan. She’d tell me stories of what was going on downtown – the scene, the music, the people, the culture. I can vividly remember one night when she and her boyfriend (now my brother-in-law) took me to Hotel Amazon (for those who remember on Suffolk and Rivington Street) in 1980′something. It wasn’t the first (or last) time I was in a club waaay underage, but that night a couple of local punk bands played, and when their set was over, all of a sudden DJ Red Alert took to the stage and spun a set till the wee hours. It was amazing to see the diverse mix of people from different genres and lifestyles all together in one place, it’s a feeling and image that’s unforgettable for me, forever holding a place in my mental timeline. In a way I was unknowingly witnessing history and the future at the same time. There would be many more ineradicable experiences like these that helped shape and inspire me, keeping me fascinated with the culture and its permeating influence to this day.

Now I’m not trying to claim that I’m “down” or cooler than thou because of my stories. There are many, like those featured in the film, who are the purveyors of the Downtown scene and more ingrained in the cultural fabric, but these experiences are mine, and in a sense, Downtown was calling me too, just like it did for others and will continue to.

So as much as this post relates my experiences to the theme of “Downtown Calling”, it’s an “ode” to my sister, who I still look up to to this day and absolutely grateful for her “putting me on” after all these years.