The Wire, Season 5, Epsiode #5, “Reaction Quotes”

Grade B+/A-

Thousand pardons for skipping the episode four recap, but the weight of Prop Joe’s death weighed heavy on my soul. Or I was just pretty busy. Whichever you choose to believe. So now the season is halfway over, and they’ve safely moved past set-up made to get into the meat of the plot.

The cuts of the metaphorical prime rib, just to extend this silly metaphor, continue to be McNulty’s fictitious serial killer and Marlo’s impending war with Omar. The focus for most of the episode is on McNulty’s scheme and how it intertwines with getting more resources for the cops to go after Marlo. McNult manipulates everyone who surrounds him while they try to play their own games. Watching McNulty and lowlife reporter Scott trying to out-weasel each other was priceless, especially when it’s clear McNulty has the upper-hand as always.

As an unexpected side effect of McNulty's maneuvering (at least for me) is the reintroduction of “the Wire,” as all of the grand-standing leads to the tapping of two phones: one completely useless and the other legit. With all the “big” issues that this series covers (schools, the media, the decaying city) it’s easy to forget that the wire itself is the common thread throughout all five seasons. It shouldn't be so easy to forget, 'cause it's the name of the show, but still. Other good little bonuses are the further inclusion of Carver and Herc, as the former coninutes to be good police and the latter does something right only after getting booted from the force.

When the story turns to the impending Omar/Marlo battle royale, most of the episode centers around the waiting game. Omar and his new partner Donnie sit in a car listening to Oldies while staking out the home of Monk, one of Marlo’s lieutenants. Omar knows it’s likely a trap, but he’s a patient man. As always Michael K. Williams does an excellent job of portraying a man of singular focus, even if he spends most of his screen-time smoking Newports in a hooptie.

One area where the episode lacked was in the lack of reaction to the death of Prop Joe. I mean the man was the Kingpin of East Baltimore and probably the most powerful drug dealer in the city (in terms of influence that went beyond Marlo’s muscle). I know the Co-Op doesn’t that meet daily or anything, but you’d think they’d have some sort of reaction. Especially Slim Charles, who must thinking things look a little fishy. I know there’s time and likely budget descriptions, but this reinforces why they need 12 or 13 episodes this season. There’s so much plot, that characters like Herc, Carver, and Beatie have to wait two episodes between appearances.

Speaking of two-episode hiatuses, Bubbles is back from his, apparently spending his time off-screen scrubbing pots at the soup kitchen. This time, his story is considerably more interesting, as he’s still gripped by grief and guilt, this time convinced that he’s contracted HIV, and gets his sponsor Waylon to take him to a free clinic. The interplay between Waylon and Bubbles this time is extremely compelling, suggesting that maybe Steve Earle had a bad day on the set the last time around.

Here’s hoping next week the plot continues to thicken. And maybe Omar can spend a little less time sitting in car.

A Razor-Edge Resurrection? Pt 1: The Preface.

I’ve never believed that hip-hop is dead, but I will concede that it’s kind of dull. The music has become so thoroughly in the mainstream that no one really tries anything new. You pretty know much know what you’re going to get in terms of sound and quality just by looking at the back of the CD and the production credits. During any given year, I can pretty much tell which albums I’m going to like and which ones I’m not even before they’re released. Rarely does anything come along that legitimately intrigues me, muh less excites me in any way shape or form. It didn’t used to be that way, and it might that level of interest may indeed return.

First, a little history: Back around 1996 or 1997, underground hip-hop got REALLY interesting. As the music was starting to get mainstream radio/video love as being a commercially viable, a separate counter-movement was afoot. “Unsigned” and “independent” artists rallied around the idea of making music that openly revolted against the decadent values of mainstream hip-hop. An era marked by fish-eye lensed videos and shiny suits spawned a nationwide musical resistance movement who railed against R&B singers on the choruses of the song and sampling pop-hits from the Eighties. It sounded closer to the hip-hop that I grew up listening to and loving; it sounded like how hip-hop was “supposed” to sound.

If there was any label that represented the rebellion against hip-hop’s status quo, it was Rawkus Records. After spending it’s early years specializing in drum-n-bass and house music, during the mid to late 1990s the New York-based label start dropping a slough of 12” singles by mostly New York-based artists who’d been grinding in the city’s underground making decidedly left of center music. There were other labels putting in work and releasing quality music, like Fondle ’Em, Makin Records, Guesswhile, and Raw Shack, but Rawkus was leading the charge. Rawkus’ most notable full-length releases during these salad days were by Company Flow and Black Star (the duo of Mos Def and Talib Kweli), who were the poster-children of this “Independent and Loving It” era. Other artists that dropped 12”s on Rawkus included guess like Sir Menelik, Shabaam Sahdeeq, L-Fudge, Black Attach, the Artifacts (under the name of the Brick City Kids), RA the Rugged Man, B-1, etc.

Not to sound too corny, but it was a fairly inspirational time to love independent hip-hop, and I personally swore by everything the label put out. I remember visiting the label headquarters back in 1998, as I was visiting some journalism schools, to meet some of the guys I’d been gabbing with over the phone as a writer for the now-defunct 4080 magazine. It was the first time I’d been in a record label of any sort, and, still being young and reasonably naive, I believed I was stepping into some sort of hallowed ground of independent hip-hop, along the lines of Living Legends’ “Outhouse” loft in East Oakland or Los Angeles’ Good Life Café. I remember being ecstatic that I left scoring a copy of the yet to released Lyricist Lounge compilation double CD and a cassette of what was to be Company Flow’s follow-up EP.

Sadly, Rawkus’ salad days were short-lived. Their fall has been detailed extensively by a few writers and artists, including a great piece published by XXL a few years ago (written by a friend/fellow Medill School of Journalism alumnus Adam Matthews). What appears to have killed Rawkus was after getting a taste of money, they decided to start behaving like any other label. Rather than catering to their strengths, creating left-of-center independent hip-hop, they started chasing big names and major media exposure. They stepped on a lot of toes in the process and lost the support of a lot of the artists’ that helped them build their name. After a series of buy-outs and mergers (by the likes of MCA, Geffen, and Interscope), the label folded in late 2003/early 2004.

So, fast-forward to mid-2006, and the Rawkus Records re-launches, with brand new distribution and much more low-key M.O. The label’s first slate of releases eschewed their previous NY hip-hop focus, as their roster sported artists like Kidz in the Hall (out of Chicago), Panacea (from Washington D.C.) Hezekiah (Delaware/Philadelphia), and the Procussions (Seattle). As 2007 rolled around, they added releases by artists like Blue Scholars (Seattle) and producer Marco Polo (Toronto). While these releases didn’t exactly spark the imagination like their late 1990s stuff, most if not of all these albums were interesting. Kidz N Hall’s “School is My Hustle” was among the 20 or 30 best hip-hop albums of 2006, and Marco Polo “Nostalgia,” featuring Masta Ace, is considered the best hip-hop song of 2007 by legions of bloggers and backpackers, present company included (Well, somewhere in the Top 5 for me).

But by far their most “interesting” move was the launch and execution of the “Rawkus 50” campaign by the end of 2007. Which I’ll get into the next installment.

The Wire Season 5, Episode #3

Grade: A-

After an ever so slight speed-bump, The Wire is as strong as ever this week. McNulty continues his headfirst descent into oblivion. Still obsessed with forcing the department’s, city’s, and state’s hands into, you know, fighting crime, he continues to fabricate a serial killer that preys on the homeless. But it proves difficult to get the department and anyone in general to give a damn. His mission is like an alcohol-fueled version of what Colvin tried to pull off during the third season; he’s got the right motives, but his actions are a recipe for disaster. Things will end just about as well for him too. But while Colvin took the fall on his own, McNulty seems intent on taking his closest friends and family with him. Suffice to say he’s even worse than he was at the very beginning of the series, dwelling at the bottom of a bottle and having sex with random skanks in public places.

Meanwhile, Prop. Joe continues to try to “civilize” Marlo, as he shows him the finer points of money laundering (both in the metaphorical and physical sense). Yet Marlo continues to make his power grab, going behind Joe’s back to buy dope directly from the Greeks. And he sets things in motion designed to bring Omar back in town, though his motives are questionable: it will cause just as much trouble for Joe as it does for him, and Marlo gets chance to knock off the one that got away. Playing a game this dangerous can’t end well. Screwing around with the Greeks and Omar is a lot different than muscling 16-year-olds off of West Baltimore street corners.

All the other plot-lines continue to develop: The executive editor of the Sun announces that the paper’s owners have ordered another series of cutbacks, and besides cutting down their foreign coverage, they’re offering another round of buy outs, which means “take our severance package or be banished to the copy desk.” It leads to a rather poignant scene where one of the bought-out reporter commits a final act of good journalism before riding off into the sunset. At the same time, Scott continues to act like he’s piping stories and quotes to curry favor of the editors. It’s never clear whether he is, in fact, making everything up, but if nothing else he’s guilty of being a weasel supreme.

Michael, Duquan and Bug take an afternoon to actually be kids, but no good deed goes unpunished. Things look even grimmer for Chief Burrell and Clay Davis. Both of their number’s are finally up, and for both it’s been a long time coming. It’s almost pathetic watch Clay struggle with the other shoe finally dropping. He still tries to maneuver as he always does, but can’t come to grips with the fact that no one lives forever in Baltimore, even a political hack.

There are no substantial flaws with this episode, but a few noticeable omissions. Despite the fact I was disparaging the execution of the Bubbles storyline during the last week, I missed Bubbles this time around. Meanwhile, Carver, Herc, et al. have been MIA since the first episode. I’m interested in seeing what exactly Herc is up to with the crooked lawyer and Carver’s trials and tribulations as the Sergeant In Charge. But somehow I think Simon and company will make it all work out.

Killing Me Softly

I’m convinced that if the 16-year-old me could see the 32-year-old me, he’d be thoroughly disgusted. If for no reason than my CD collection.

Anyone who’s known me for maybe five minutes is probably aware of my deep and abiding love of hip-hop. It started back in 1984 when I heard Run-D.M.C.’s “King of Rock.” It was on from there. I’d say probably by eighth or ninth grade, hip-hop was all I listened to. At all. I started off with stuff like Public Enemy, Ice-T, and N.W.A., but it grew into Kool G Rap, King Tee, Big Daddy Kane, and E.P.M.D.

One thing I certainly could not abide by was the R&B of the time. If there was one thing I was sure of, it was that R&B was cheesy crap. I couldn’t even stomach rappers having R&B singer on the chorus of their songs, much less the idea of listening to an R&B album. Which is why I knew that my high school friends were a bunch of soft-headed, candy-ass pantywaists for raving over albums by Ralph Tresvant and Guy.

I listened to pretty much exclusively hip-hop until maybe sophomore year of college. I slowly got into soul, funk, jazz, reggae, and some rock (Bob Dylan and Jim Hendrix). I began collecting hip-hop records around the same time, and picked up non-hip-hop records somewhere along the way. I have now accumulated a few thousand vinyl albums and 12” since. And even though I’m still Hip-Hop to the bone-marrow, I’ve gained appreciation for all types of stuff I never would have thought I’d ever listen to.

The Final Frontier was late ’80s/early ’90s R&B. I blame my friends for being a bad influence on me. My friends Eddie, Jabari, and Jumma started carrying about how those albums bump in the car and their other “virtues.” I caved and decided to take a chance. Sometime last summer I broke down and copped “In Effect Mode” by Al B. Sure and both Guy albums. These albums ended up as my gateway drugs.

Since those initial purchases, I’ve bought CDs by artists like Keith Sweat, Johnny Gill, Bobby Brown, Mint Condition, Ready for the World, Troop, and Jodeci. I often use late ’80s/early ’90s R&B as my soundtrack for spending my Saturday and Sunday afternoons lying on the futon in my music room, reading a book, and drinking a glass of lemonade. For God’s sake, when I got my new iPod, I crafted a 75-minute playlist made up exclusively of ballads. It’s pathetic. The 16-year-old me would think I’m such a sell-out. I doubt he’d even talk to me. I’ve sunk about as low as I can go.

Well, I haven’t QUITE hit rock-bottom. I still don’t listen into techno. If you see me listening to an album by KLF, feel free to shoot me in the head. Twice.

The Wire, Season 5, Episode 2 Review

McNulty Finally Loses It

Grade: B+/B

The final season of the greatest TV show ever continues, though not quite with the same kick as the last episode. But I’ll take an okay episode of “The Wire” over just about any other episode of anything.

Things continue to progress towards inevitable doom. Marlo, realizing that the police are no longer watching him, decides to cry havoc and let slip his dogs of war. He resolves to exact revenge on his real and perceived slights to his organization and person. The two scenes of Marlo’s crew carrying out his will go from bleakly funny to chilling. The portrayal of Michael, the young-up-comer being groomed by Marlo’s right-hand man Chris Partlow, is particularly well done. Michael’s slow realization of the stupidity of Marlo’s motives and the futility of his actions is powerful.

And while his crew does the dirty work, Marlo tries to visit good ol’ Sergei of Season 2, currently locked up in prison for the rest of his life, in hopes of dealing directly with the Greeks and cutting out the rest of the Co-Op. He gets surprised by let another blast from his past, who’s wiling to help Marlo out, but at a good cost. And once he gets past that obstacle, Marlo’s greeting to Sergei when he does manage to meet him face-to-face is priceless.

Even as Marlo continues to maneuver, neither McNulty nor Freamon are ready to give up on the case, looking for ways to someone, anyone, to take it seriously. Their difficulties, plus the increasing inability for anyone in the Baltimore PD to do any sort of basic police work weigh heavy on McNulty. The visual of Jimmy having to take the bus to get to a crime scene is a good touch. The hopelessness eventually culminates in McNulty going COMPLETELY off the rails, which has been a long time coming.

While these plot lines are handled as well as ever, some of the facets of the series seem a little lackluster. The Bubbles storyline has its moments, but it has built up much traction. I’m betting this one will turn around, and that Bubs will be one of the few characters to earn some measure of redemption by the end of the show. If for no other reason than he hit rock-bottom last season.

The newspaper storyline also misfired this episode. Particularly, I can’t buy that in 2007/2008, there are is any managing editor of a major metropolitan newspaper that is as clueless as the one for this fictional incarnation of The Baltimore Sun. I can understand his logic for “narrowing the focus” on the public school series/expose (writing a story on how all of society is to blame for student’s low-test scores has become cliché in itself). However, no managing editor would green-light putting a story on the front page of the paper when they don’t have a name or a picture of the subject of the story, especially in the aftermath of Jason Blair and USA Today fiascos

Another problem is that there are now so many characters that advancing the stories of nearly all of them any given week gets increasingly difficult. They’ve got four seasons of characters whose arcs David Simon and company are trying to bring to their logical conclusions. Now, by wedging in another dozen or so reporters/editors into ten episodes, all requiring their own screen-time, the stretch-marks are starting to show.

Competing for last place

So it looks like the Oakland Athletics will be slugging it out with the Texas Rangers for the cellar of the AL West next season. After trading ace Dan Haren, third place still seemed reachable; but with the recent trade of first-baseman/outfielder Nick Swisher, A’s General Manager Billy Beane seems intent on snatching the last place crown from the team helmed by his former third-base coach.

Nick Swisher has indeed been traded to the White Sox for three supposedly top of the line prospects. Perhaps the only meager solace I can take is that apparently Beane wasn’t shopping him, and that Kenny Williams made Beane on offer he couldn’t refuse. Swisher bears Oakland no ill will, and knows that’s just how the game is played off the field. Which is all fine and fucking dandy, but the A’s will now REALY stink during 2008. I was cool with not being competitive for the AL West, as long as we’re respectable. This A’s team isn’t capable of finishing respectably in 2008.

Nick Swisher was not a perfect player. Despite being the A’s most successful “Moneyball” offensive player, he never hit for average, struck out a lot, and never cracked 100 RBIs. But he did his things, hit for power, and played good defense. And he was the most popular player on the A’s since Miguel Tejada and could have turned into a much less fat and ’roided version of Jason Giambi. In return for him, the A’s got a good prospect OF, and two pitchers who probably won’t be ready for the majors until 2010, possibly 2011. Beane keeps crowing that the team is getting younger, but he’s dealing all the young and cheap players with any real upside for unproven commodities.

So, without Swisher, Haren, and probably Blanton (word is he’ll be gone by mid-2008 season at the absolute latest; likely before the season starts), we’ll be left with a team of players that are really young, really injury prone (Eric Chavez and Mark Kotsay), or a combination of the two (Rich Harden and Bobby Crosby). And once Harden gets injured, the A’s starting five will be comprised of Chad Gaudin, Lenny DiNardo, Justin Duchscherer, Dallas Braden, and Joe Kennedy’s corpse. This team probably loses 90 to 95 games, and could have the worst record in the AL when the season ends.

It’s f@#$in’ Iowa

I’ll keep this brief, because the breadth and depth of my knowledge of Iowa’s caucus system is limited to what I’ve picked up on the nightly news over the years and Wikipedia. But I’d figure I’d get my tow cents in before the TV spin and punditry takes over like kudzu.

The fact that a bunch of goofy white people hanging out in their Appanoose County living rooms amidst the corn and the high school wrestlers has a profound impact on the seemingly interminable Presidential Election campaign is just dumb. The fact that it will have a large role in making or breaking the presidential hopes of 90% of the candidates is silly.

Not even 3 million people live there. To my knowledge, nothing of significance has ever come out of there. It’s not a slice of the heartland of America. It’s just the state that comes after Nebraska when you’re driving on Highway 80 towards Chicago. There are a lot of rolling hills and lots of the aforementioned corn. And that’s it. So stop giving it so much political weight. Please. That type of clout belongs to states of real importance and relevance, like New Hampshire.

The Wire Season Five, Episode #1 Review

Grade: A-

I firmly believe that “The Wire” is the best TV shows ever created. I’m hardly the first person to write this statement and the show’s virtues have been extolled by writers much greater and prominent than myself, but I would also like to note how few, if any, missteps this series has made. Even other “great” series, including ones without the fetters of prime time network control, have been this flawless for this long. Even during their glory days/early years, shows like “Sopranos,” “Six Feet Under,” and “Homicide” were never consistently good as any season of “The Wire.”

But sadly, this great show will son come to an end, with the first episode of the final season premiering on Sunday night. HBO has once again decided to make each episode available through OnDemand close to a week in advance, and I recently took advantage of this fact. The decision to do so has always struck me as odd, but whatever. So this review is only really sort of early. And of course, future episodes of the series are already available as torrents. The situation irks me to no end, because they are many idiots out there intent on spoiling the plot twists for those of us who don’t want to know. That being said, I pledge to keep my reviews as spoiler free as possible while discussing my feelings.

So, yeah, now on with the review: Season 5 shows “The Wire” is still at full strength. The first scene stands tall among the show’s best intro segments ever. Yes, it feels like it was ripped straight from David Simon’s original “Homicide” book (which it was), but it really captures what I imagine will be the theme for the entire season. As the show continues, Simon and company continue to do what they have always done with the first episode of every season: slowly re-introduce the recurring characters and let the story unfold as to what they’ve been up to for the past year. Nothing ever feels forced.

And as always, the show shifts from the law enforcement to the criminal to the political worlds effortlessly, all the while building on and inter-connecting each storyline. As the season starts, things arn’te going well in Baltimore: Crime is on the rise. The city is deep in debt. The Mayor, last seen bright-eyed and bushy tailed while promising a day new day in the city, already looks weak and ineffectual a mere year into his term. And the Baltimore PD is close to mutiny, after being promised the world, but now being held captive to a budget crunch and the Mayor’s political ambitions.

And most surprisingly, the Major Crimes Unit looks defeated and close to pathetic. After spending a year literally chasing West Side crime boss Marlo Stansfield around the city, they’re no closer to catching him than they were a year ago. The unit’s days have become a ghetto version of “Groundhog Day.” They knew everything he’s going to do and everywhere he’s going to go, but they still doggedly follow him in hopes of a break. All the while, Marlow is getting comfortable in his power and has some dangerous ambitions of his own.

And in the midst of all these swirling plot-lines, they introduce a new theme: The life and times of the Baltimore Sun newspaper. I’ll admit even as a former reporter, I was a little apprehensive about the introduction of the newspaper angle. But then again, I wasn’t initially enthusiastic about Season #4 school angle, and the plotlines that emerged were as captivating as anything they’ve done. The first episode shows a pretty decent look at the average news day in a major metropolitan newspaper, and shows how a daily act of journalism can unfold in a newsroom. No doubt things were get more complicated and prickly as the season progresses.

It saddens me that I now only have nine more new episodes of “The Wire” to enjoy. However, if the final season continues with the same quality of this first episode and the four preceding seasons, what more can I ask for beyond five seasons of consistently brilliant television?