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‘Who’s Krazy?’ Rapper Ise Lyfe raises questions with his new one-man play

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By Jamilah King

The definition of blackness is so highly debated that even black folks have a difficult time defining it. Oakland-raised rapper Ise Lyfe looks at blackness and some of these questions associated with the concept in his one-man play, Who’s Krazy? Told through spoken word and monologue and accompanied a ’70s soul and hip-hop sounds, Who’s Krazy? revolves around Victor, a 31-year-old African American man who runs from anything he considers “black.” Victor’s journey takes a staggering detour after he has a mental breakdown and locks himself in his basement. I spoke to Lyfe recently about his work.

SFBG: What have you been up to since the release of your last album?

Ise Lyfe: Mainly I’ve been traveling and performing, teaching a bit. I started an educational company that basically explores the roots causes of violence in our community. It got to a point where I realized that the material being taught in our schools didn’t relate to the realities that a lot of people face at home or in real life. So we created a program that teaches young folks about the history of violence against women, our internal impulses toward violence and the systemic causes of violence in our communities that we may not think about in our daily lives.

I’ve also been working on an album. The project is called Prince Cometh, and it’s probably one of my proudest accomplishments to date. I’m releasing it independently and it should be out in May or June.

SFBG: Now let’s talk about your latest project, Who’s Krazy? Where did the idea come from?

IL:
Since I’ve been traveling a lot, I always encounter interesting people. A while back I was speaking on a panel at Smith College, and the guy sitting next to me was this brotha who was a total tight ass and seemed hella removed from his blackness. It was a trip.

SXSW Interactive: Pirate vs. Consumer

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By Paula Connelly

Panel titled: How Piracy will save the music industry

Jason Schwartz, founder of a digital music label called Robber Baron Music, and Randy Saaf, the founding CEO of an internet piracy prevention technology company called MediaDefender, Inc, discussed the conflicting viewpoints of the record labels and millions of music consumers. Schwartz’ music label acts as an internet marketing outlet that offers free music downloads in conjunction with artist donation options. This is beneficial to the artist because it gets people listening to an artists’ music while cataloging the downloader’s demographics for tour negotiation leverage. This is the future of the music industry. The labels are cut out. They know it. They’re angry.

SXSW Interactive: The web 2.0 revolution

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by Paula Connelly

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A Guitar Hero break in between panel discussions

I’m not convinced that the web is breaking down boundaries. At the SXSW Interactive Media conference there was a sea of iPhone engaged people who represent the first generation to really harness the experience of growing up with the web and bring it to the business realm. Those who have been the most successful have achieved web fame status. On the web, success is measured by attention based on site user volume, and although that directly translates to advertising dollars it is not the most important component of internet fame. I know that I should be happy about this glorification of knowledge. I should feel optimistic that web celebrity is the result of talent stemming from mathematical and scientific ability. The truth of the matter is, we are in the middle of a revolution whether we like it or not. And as I take refuge in an Austin cafe, far, far away from the fray, I realize that something about it all makes me feel really uncomfortable.

South By Culture: Why’d I bring my cowboy hat?

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Culture editor Molly Freedenberg hits SXSW for the first time to explore the festival’s extracurricular aspects. For Music Editor Kimberly Chun’s take on SXSW’s tunes, click here.

Often, when I embark on a trip, I assume everyone else around me is going where I’m going. Usually I’m wrong. But sometimes – as with Burning Man and, apparently, South by Southwest – I’m right.

It was harder to tell who was headed to Austin on the first leg of my flight, but it was obvious on the last leg from Denver to Austin. The girl in the beat-up T-shirt, suspenders, and A-line skirt with matching A-line hair? SXSW. The Baby Boomer with surprisingly stylish shoes who was assigned to A-line girl’s seat on the plane (and won the battle)? Not so much. I know Austin’s pretty hip, not just by Texas standards but by anyone’s, but it felt safe to guess that the long-haired, pasty-faced guy with a stylie pattern embroidered on his blazer was headed my way. Same for his companion, with her choppy bob and screen-printed messenger bag.

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Perhaps I should’ve bought myself an ironic trucker hat instead.

South By Culture: Kimya who?

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Culture editor Molly Freedenberg hits SXSW for the first time to explore the festival’s extracurricular aspects. For Music Editor Kimberly Chun’s take on SXSW’s tunes, click here.

Yes, I’m a music fanatic, but I’m no music geek – and certainly no expert. I love the music I love in the simplest, purest way, as a child who grew up on the Stones and the Beatles and associates rock’n’roll with love and breakfast and spontaneous living room dance parties. I’m not the girl who’s up on the all the coolest new bands, nor the one who scours record stores for rare 7 inch bootlegs from all the coolest old ones. My haircut is symmetrical, my T-shirts aren’t ironic, and the closest thing I have to “skinny jeans” are pants I’ve outgrown. In short? I’m no spokesperson for indie rock.

So while it’s true that I’m here at South by Southwest (locals call it South By, by the way) to hear music until my ears bleed and my feet blister, I’m not going to pretend to assess the bands down here. I’ll leave that to Kim, who’s far more qualified on that subject.

No, just as I am at home, I’m going to be the eyes of the Guardian’s culture section while I’m here. Food, fashion, nightlife, drinking, lifestyle – and everything else that makes Austin the San Francisco of Texas. I can’t promise my posts will all be cohesive – or even coherent (there sure are a lot of bars in Austin, and a lot of parties being thrown at them during SXSW), but what else would anyone expect?

Girls Rocked!

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By Justin Juul

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What? You haven’t seen “Girls Rock! The Movie” yet? It’s a documentary about a rock n’ roll camp in Portland Oregon that teaches young girls how to overcome oppression, fight off attackers, and most importantly how to rock! I recently attended the film’s East Bay premier at The Shattuck Cinema in Berkeley with my girlfriend, Heather Duthie, who has been working with the film’s co-directors Arnie Johnson (a frequent Guardian contributor) and Shane King for the past six months. So there’s your full disclosure of my interest in the movie. But really: I never knew girls could be so awesome!

Two different bands played to a sold-out theater full of prepubescent girls and their super hip mothers or fathers. The girls entered the theater timid and meek, but after hearing The Kitties play a punk version of “These Boots Are Made for Walkin’” and watching Girls Rock! star, Palace, scream obscenities and punch people in the face, they were able to bang their heads and throw up the horns without a touch of bashfulness. Let’s hope and pray they stay the course. The last thing we need is another Britney, however punk rock she has become.

Here’s where to see it.

And here’s some pics from the event

The case for Concord

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By Ailene Sankur

What would make me want to spend a year of my life living in Concord?

Love.

Cheap rent. ($350/month to live with said person I loved, and another roommate.)

Bomb-ass Mexican food.

I am about to say a very controversial thing: I have yet to eat a truly good burrito in the city. I have been up and down Mission, up and down Valencia, and to El Beach Burrito by my house in the Sunset, and found nothing but decent — bordering on good — burritos. I am not impressed. (But am open to, and would really welcome suggestions…)

I don’t miss Concord, besides its tons of parking and wonderfully hot, 90-plus summers, but I do miss that Mexican food. Concord’s Mexican joints make any place in the Mission taste about as authentic as Baja Fresh.

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The inner life of Annie Leibovitz

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By Ailene Sankur

The best brunch in the city isn’t at J’s Pots of Soul or Boogaloos, my friends. It’s at the Legion of Honor, that elegant neoclassical building perched high atop foggy Land’s End (so Hitchcockian), during the press preview for the Legion’s Annie Leibovitz exhibit. (There is a Sunday brunch for the masses, but I doubt you get your own nametag – or a chat with Ms. Leibovitz — at that one.) A pyramid of martini glasses held fresh fruit salad garnished with sprigs of mint. The coffee was delectable. And the bagels – half the size of normal ones — were adorable! Teeny tiny!

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The photographer

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Brother Philip and Father

One day at a time, Bubs

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Thank you, David Simon. Newspaper journalism couldn’t have asked for a clearer voice. But it would have been nice to see Frank Pembleton one last time.

Hey napkin-doodler! Win this …

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Yep, it’s that time again — time for the Mama’s Royal Cafe Annual Napkin Art Contest!

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2006 winner!

The fave-rave Oakland cafe is presenting it’s 26th one of these suckers — and your noodle-doodle entry could snag you $400, or any one of 32 other fabulous prizes (including free breakfast.

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2007 First runner up!

All those years of crayoning your placemat could finally pay off … but get to scribblin’ kids, the deadline is March 31. We eagerly await seeing your entry displayed in Mama’s incomparable online napkin art gallery.

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Use only what you need!

Heavy metal: the Iron Man trailer

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By Candice Chan

Wicked flipping awesome! The new Iron Man trailer came out last week and is so good I could watch it backwards while doing a headstand and I’d still want more. Let’s hope the movie can live up to the hype that the trailer has sparked. Regardless, though, Tony Stark is the most badass alcoholic ever. Seriously, there is nothing quite as sexy as a dude who can hold his liquor, build impenetrable armor, and blow up a tank all by himself … AT THE SAME TIME. Drool.

Leave Diablo Cody alone!

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Tom Lenk, who played one of my favorite characters in the later seasons of Buffy (Andrew, the geek villain), takes on Chris Crocker and Diablo Cody in what is perhaps my favorite YouTube parody to date. I swear to blog.

There will be more blood: El Topo returns to the screen of the crime

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By Erik Morse

After its belated 2007 release in a highly anticipated DVD box set, Alejandro Jodorowsky’s 1970 midnight masterpiece El Topo – which translates to “The Mole” – will revisit the big screen on March 6 and 8 as a part of SFMOMA’s “Non-Western Westerns” film series.

El Topo has been touted as nothing less than the Philosopher’s Stone of film by certain cineastes, as well as by ars gratia artis anarchists and alchemy students. Much of El Topo‘s religious potency has been connected to the shared, orphic experience found in cheap art-houses and midnight festivals, where the elicit jouissance of its viewing came as a secret cinematic samizdat. Upon the film’s New York debut at Ben Barenholtz’s Elgin Theatre, its philosophical and cultural prescience – between the subterranean art of Jonas Mekas and Andy Warhol and the apocalyptic violence of Altamont and the Manson murders – secured it a place within the cleaving of two seminal but divergent decades. Although Jodorowsky seemed more entwined with the elder studies of Antonin Artaud and spectral mysticism, his work spoke to the ever-expanding archive of bestiality and immolation that was part of a new postmodern and post-war language.

Lick your pickle, kids

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Hey, kids! Can you feel the heat? Ready to cool down with a nice tart treat? Then wrap your lips around a big frozen pickle.

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Yep, that’s right — you’ll be cool as a cucumber with this doozy: The Pickle Sickle, which despite it’s name is NOT a preserved fruit bearing grim death. It’s a Popsicle made of picle juice, which the makers tout as a healthy alternative to sugar-laden frozen treats. It’s “made from the whole pickle!” (Not just the gizzard and feet.) Plus, you’ll look really cool:

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Seriously! Holy frozen pickles, there’s even a theme song

We (heart) Horseface

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Kerchiefs. Gezundheit! We’ve been reticent to write about one of our favorite local designers, Mica Phelan aka Horseface, because he’s just so damn popular — no one is anyone in this town without a House of Horseface bandanna hanging somewhere off their body. And we’d never cave in to that kind of popularity. Kidding! We’re total whores that way — thus the coke habit. Kidding again! It’s meth. Coke is for toddlers. And Horseface is still pretty underground. But we digress.

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Hotness

Anyway, you need to get a Horseface bandanna (they even come in delectable porn prints). They’re available at fantastic print shop My Trick Pony (where you may see Mica behind the counter), cute li’l clothing store Seventh Heart, or even through the Horseface Myspace, which rhymes.

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Jealouz cat is ultra jealouz

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My Icanhascheezburger buttons arrived in the mail today. I ordered 16 of them. Snap. If you’re extra nice or leak me documents, I’ll give you one.

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Yippie! More from ‘Chicago 10’ director Brett Morgan

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By Jamilah King

When I walked into the Berkeley Cinema screening of the Chicago 10, I didn’t know what to expect. I had only a vague idea of the infamous Chicago Seven trial and felt oddly out of place among the aging hippies: I fully was prepared for another boring lesson on why my generation sucks.

Instead I was met with an engaging movie that eschews traditional documentary filmmaking to capture the playful exuberance of the Yippie generation. Through animation and rare video footage, Abbie Hoffman and Jerry Rubin came to life with a message of resistance that transcended decades. I spoke to Brett Morgan, the film’s director, over the phone (for the first part of the interview go here):

SFBG: You mentioned that you were trying to really capture the energy of the Yippies. Do you see any of that energy in today’s anti-war movement?

Brett Morgan: The thing about the Yippies that I love is the sense of playfulness and the fun, and I think if you go to YouTube you can see viral videos from Obama Girl to a whole range of stuff that’s pretty illuminating and exciting. I think there are leaders who have the charisma that an Abbie Hoffman had that just aren’t getting the same media play.

Awesome sale alert: Nida clears out collection at hey-I-can-do-that prices

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OK, this ensemble wasn’t at Nida – instead it’s actress Lou Doillon modeling a bit of Marant.

This week’s awesome sale – the type that will makes lil’ ole Shopping Spy feel better about missing out on those Miu Miu peg-legs at Marshall’s – has to be at Nida in Hayes Valley. When I sallied in there the other day, they still had plenty of women’s pieces by cool Parisian designer-to-the-models Isabel Marant, Vanessa Bruno, Alessandro Dell’Acqua, Paul and Joe, and others. And zut alors, the prices are hard to beat with items marked at $200 down to $40, $400 now $80. Fashio-philes will go into cardiac arrest at the hyper-affordability of it all.

Oh, yeah, and there was also plenty for guys, too – striped-shirt fiends, gather round!

Nida
544 Hayes, SF
(415) 552-4670.

A look into the TV: Warhol Superstar documentaries

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A Walk into the Sea: Danny Williams and the Warhol Factory is playing at the Roxie Film Center right now, giving people a sustained glimpse of the competitiveness and back-stabbing that went on during the Factory’s heyday. Paul Morrissey in particular does not come off well, though director (and Williams’ niece) Esther Robinson’s attempts at drawing connections between Andy Warhol and her uncle’s death remain vague. If a documentary about a likely suicide can have a bright side, then Walk does: Robinson uncovers and spotlights Williams’s heretofore obscure film work, which is very impressive – as attractive and arresting in its use of black-and-white contrast as anything that ever came out of the Factory, which was essentially the MGM of underground cinema.

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Andy Warhol and Danny Williams

With A Walk into the Sea currently screening, the time seems right to present a colorful but by no means definitive short guide to other docs or features about characters or Superstars perhaps best-known for floating through the realm of Warhol’s Factory:

More buzz for your buck

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Intern Ailene Sankur discovers what’s been missing from her coffee: more coffee!

Buying coffee at 7-11 the other day (too lazy to find a coffee shop, too scared to drink more of my new roomie’s fair trade organic, $15-per-pound coffee), I found this amazing product. Stok, featured here on the Energy Fiend website, looks like a little creamer packet, but is actually more coffee for your coffee: a potent additive that’s the equivalent of one shot of espresso (FYI, espresso actually contains less caffeine than regular coffee, but still…).

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Diablo Cody is fucking punk rock

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She used to write for alt-weekly newspapers. She worked as a stripper. She wrote a well-received memoir. Oh yeah, she won an Oscar, too. Then, when she was offered a pair of million-dollar shoes to wear to the Oscars, she told the maker, Stuart Weitzman, to go shove them up his ass.

I’ve always loved watching aging Midwest punk and hardcore kids make good, like those who went on to become nonprofit administrators, nurses, defense lawyers, journalists and screenwriters, quietly nurturing that side of their own mind that wasn’t afraid to call bullshit.

Thank you, Diablo Cody. This could only get better if the one-time Minneapolis resident started name-dropping Hammerhead, Holding On, Harvest, Profane Existence and AmRep Records in interviews. Yeah, yeah. Bob Mould and the Jayhawks, too.

Reflections on the death of Alain Robbe-Grillet

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By Erik Morse

The iconic French author and “phenomenologist” Alain Robbe-Grillet died Monday, Feb.18, at the age of 85 in Caen. His most lauded works include Le Voyeur (1955), La Jalousie (1957) and the critical essay Pour un nouveau roman (1966), which ushered in the titular literary movement synonymous with fellow authors Marguerite Duras, Claude Simon, and Nathalie Sarraute.

Alain Robbe-Grillet on Jean Genet, 2002

His very cinematographic style of writing also led to collaborations with noted French auteur Alain Resnais and the 1961 art-house classic L’Année dernière à Marienbad. Though he was not as celebrated – or as simultaneously vilified – in America as he was in his native France, Robbe-Grillet’s influence is immeasurable in the literary postmodernity he helped to engender.


A clip from L’Année dernière à Marienbad, 1961

Le Monde’s obit can be read here.

Queer that WonderCon

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Gird your loins, beautiful nerds like me. It’s time again for comic cornucopia WonderCon, at the Moscone Center this weekend — and Glamazonia, our favorite Uncanny Tranny superhero, is bustin’ loose!

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Who could doubt her power, her glamour, her sheer … syntheticism? This Saturday, Feb 23, 7-10pm, for FREE at the Three Dollar Bill Cafe in the LGBT Center on Market, you can meet the boy-man behind Glammy, Justin Hall of All Thumbs Press, and a gaggle of other really wonderfully gay cartoonists (Brian Andersen, Paige Braddock, MariNaomi, Tommy Roddy, Andy Hartzell, reading and signing their work in conjunction with the giant fest. It’s an extravaganza.

But wait — there’s more!