jag drömmer så konstigt nuförtiden. jag drömde att vi var massa folk från malmö som var med i något konstigt lopp där vi skulle leta efter saker och jag och jonas grönlund ville ha samma go cart bil och han pratade om grekland och sen var det någon konstig super mario i underjorden-miljö och jag läste en karta och sen kommer jag inte ihåg så noga. inatt drömde jag att jag var tvungen att komma på namnet på en karaktär i no country for old men annars skulle jag förlora något jag inte kommer ihåg vad det var. till sist skrev jag llewelyn moss. på nöjesguiden smygläsningen sa jag och sara berg att det viktigaste för män är 1 hånglet och 2 kläderna. de klarar sig inte i en värld av donnor utan de faktorerna.
Blanda majsstärkelse, bakpulver och salt. Vispa äggen med en hälften av mjölken och oljan. Häll i äggblandningen i majsblandningen. Vispa ner resten av mjölken tills det blir en slät smet. Grädda. TIPS! Vispa i smeten mellan gräddningarna eftersom mjölet vill sjunka till bottnen!
Broadway East
Thank Gwyneth Paltrow, chef Lee Gross’s former client, for inspiring the world’s first yuba “cracklins”—deep-fried soy-milk skin salted and chile-rubbed and served here as a bar snack (pictured). 171 E. Broadway, nr. Rutgers St.; 212-228-3100
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| 4 dl Risenta bovetemjöl 3 krm salt 5-6 dl vatten | Blanda mjöl och salt. Vispa ner vattnet lite i taget till en jämn smet, något tjockare än en vanlig pannkakssmet. Smörj en stekpanna med matolja och stek brödet på svag värme som när du steker pannkakor. Om de ska hållas mjuka staplas de på varandra och bör ätas nygräddade. De kan också torkas till hårt bröd. Sätt ugnen på 175° och lägg brödkakorna på galler mitt i ugnen vartefter de blir färdigstekta. Låt kakorna torka och lägg dem sedan luftigt att svalna. |
What was your first encounter with hip-hop?
Melody Maker sent me out to cover a show. This was in '82; it was the first hip-hop tour to come to London. Double-dutch dancers, rappers, breakdancers, scratchers…I'd never seen anything like it. My first real experience of it came not long after, when I came to New York to visit. The whole hip-hop thing was really in the air at that time—you'd walk down the street and see people rapping, wearing these amazing clothes. It felt important.
When hip-hop first emerged, a lot of people wrote it off as a fad. What made you think otherwise?
I think my experience of punk made it easy for me to recognize that hip-hop was a movement, much as punk had been. There are a lot of parallels. Punk was a renaissance from the streets, working-class kids making their own music, their own art, their own fashion. America doesn't have class the way England has class, but race works in a similar way here. And a song like "The Message," by Grandmaster Flash, I mean, that was poetry, and it was TRUE.
One of the astonishing things about the book is the way it catalogs the development of hip-hop style.
For me, the street style is just as important as the music. You have to recall, this was before stylists, before sponsorship deals, before there was a Gap on every other corner, before the Internet. People had to invent their own look. Huge hoop earrings, dookie chains, gold teeth…I mean, where did that come from? I don't think we'll ever see a style from the streets like that again, at least nothing that raw.
Of the artists you photographed, do you have any particular favorites?
Oh, well, obviously I love them all. "The Message" is still probably my favorite song. But if I had to choose, I'd have to say Salt 'N' Pepa. They were hysterical—rambunctious, smart, smart-mouthed.
Do you listen to any hip-hop now?
Not really, no. I'll tell you who I'm very into, though—M.I.A. I shot her album cover in London a while ago—she asked me because she liked my Salt 'N' Pepa pictures, so how's that for continuity? Maybe she is kind of hip-hop. Her energy, at least, the way she's making it up as she goes along. As far as I'm concerned, she's the coolest.
