 |
| Mickey
Avalon
- One Sick Motherfucker |
Lewd,
crude and extremely rude, Mickey Avalon is a shot
in the arm for a generation of hip hop fans who
are at a loss to see the appeal in the empty warblings
of the ‘business man first, rapper second,’
buy my tacky clothing line and piss-poor perfume
‘artists’ who dominate the scene today.
In days of yore, when the Beastie Boys were busy
fighting for their right to party rather than
the rights of oppressed Tibetan monks and the
Too Live Crew were being as nasty as they wanted
to be, while putting conservative America in a
moral tailspin; hip hop was the undisputed soundtrack
of youth culture; a rebellious call to arms, which
scared the shit out of middle class parents the
world over. Mickey Avalon, however, is a rapper
born of a life on the street that would make 50
Cent wince and thank his lucky stars; his story
is both tragic and hilarious; melancholic and
pornographic; like an opiate addled, X-rated midday
movie, whose characters are played by various
Hollywood street hustlers, dope fiends and dealers. |
|
|
A
family history beset with addiction and an eventual
heroin habit of his own, Avalon mines his troubled
past to create some of the most real, hilarious
and funky rap, which harks back to hip hop’s
golden years. “Mickey Avalon - the kosher
salami. For 20 you get Chachi but 40 gets you
Fonzie. A motherfuckin’ hustler kamikaze,
I used to bus tables but now I sell my body. It’s
like a jungle, sometimes it makes me wonder, that
God must be one sick motherfucker.” If Eminem
was hip hop’s great white hope then Mickey
Avalon could well be its undisputed saviour; a
true product of his environment, he brings to
mind some of raps great storytellers; like Slick
Rick, with whom he shares the gift of turning
painful experiences and hardship into debauched
3-minute anecdotes, the only difference being
he manages this while channelling the rock ‘n’
roll sensibilities and physical aesthetic of a
latter day Iggy and the showmanship of Bowie.
“I bust flows that turn nuns to ho’s,
I’ll wake you from your slumber and shake
you out your clothes. There ain’t no other,
late night lover, all up on the track like Scatman
Cruthers. I’ll bust through the shutters,
masked in a rubber, duck tape your mother and
butt rape your brother…when you’re
at home alone you know my phone number.”
By Dan Lewis
Photographs by The Cobrasnake
CLICK
HERE to
visit Mickey Avalon's PIMP Microsite, featuring
videos, music, galllery and more.
|
 |
|
|
|
