It’s no secret we love the Yah Mos Def. They definitely hit a nostalgic chord for a certain guest editor who spent her formative years listening to Clickatat Ikatowi, Constantine Sankathi, and every other unpronounceable screamo band born out of a Kent McClard nocturnal emission.
Anyway, last weekend, the emcees were invited by ex-pat Ralph Darden aka Major Taylor to peform in the Chicago version of the Philly favorite “Let’s Get Butt Naked and Fuck.” After spending an exhausting weekend couped up in a Honda element, Yah Mos Def’s Ricky Coldhands was gracious enough to provide us with the weekend’s tour diary.

Sliding By ñ A 36 Hour Tour Diary

Last Thursday night, Ralph Major Taylor called us and asked us to play the first ëLetís Get Butt Naked & Fuck: Chicagoí that Saturday. Since we stole one of his Franklin beats, and are still basically 17 years old, we immediately said ëyesí. And thus began the punkest thing to ever happen in a Honda Element.

We picked up our boy T.J. early Saturday morning and, for the better part of 11 hours, cranked up the iPod and the latent homosexuality. It was about 3 or 4 hours into our trip when we were reminded that middle America is full of two things: dirt and ugly people. We joked about all the Chicago peeps that would show up (members of Current, Ben Weasel, Bulldog Records sales associates) while we drank a $3 energy drinks. When we got into Chicago and found a place to eat nearby the club, we sat down across from former drummer of Trenchmouth and current SNL cast member Fred Armisenís twin brother. I kept whispering, ìwhere do I go for modernization?î but he didnít answer. Apparently, he has some ëissuesí, or heís a big dick.

Ralph then really tore it up and the floor got thick. We met some nice Chicagoans, including a hippyish girl that knows YMD collaborator and Hail Social heartthrob Richie Roxas. Rickyís old high school sweetheart showed up from Ohio to see us and got so drunk she almost puked on T.J., who was dancing in his underwear. There was a guy there with dreadlocks who was smoking a big cigar who smelled real bad. Ralph used the word ìmotherfuckerî and its variants (motherfuckers, motherfucking) a grand total of 43 times, which should be indicative of the serious degree of party that took place. We left around 4am, rented a cheap hotel room, and slept about 4 hours. T.J. woke up and was rubbing Bryan’s ass cause he thought Bryan was his girl. That being said, it was time to go. We stopped in Toledo and got Indian buffet and saw its only straight edge couples on a double date. .xxxlovexxx. Pennsylvania is needlessly big. Ralph called us and asked us to do it again next month. Fuck.

Well, Ricky, we thank you and the rest of YMD for your tales of camaraderie, hijinks, and steamy man on man love. We’d also like to thank you for the awesome pics you sent in that we weren’t able to upload. Frankly, some days we need a hefty research grant to find our own ass. Sorry about that.
YMD: You Are Not What You Own

This entry was posted on Friday, May 20th, 2005 at 1:10 pm.