He was a big man, Chris Lighty.
Wide,
and tall. Shoulders that stretched from Hollywood to New York City. But
his normal speaking voice ranked just above a whisper. As a teenager he
carried records for DJs. As a professional, he carried water for an
industry and for a culture. Lighty — who with co-owner Mona Scott ran
Violator Records and Violator Management, who founded Brand Asset
Management and worked closely with Russell Simmons and Lyor Cohen in the early days of Rush Artist Management — died Thursday. He was 44.
He has managed (among others) the careers of 50 Cent, Missy Elliott, LL Cool J, Mariah Carey, Busta Rhymes and Foxy Brown.
Those who dislike the commercialization of hip-hop may see only money
signs in Lighty's move to brand the game: Long before he negotiated what
would become 50 Cent's $100 million deal with Glacéau's Vitamin Water,
Violator worked out LL's commercial with the Gap in the late 1990s, as
well as Busta and A Tribe Called Quest's early deals with soda companies.
For
those of us who remember when it was near, or actually, impossible to
get hip-hop booked into nightclubs and arenas, who remember when pop
radio stations would not play rap, who remember that pitching a rap act
to a mainstream publication or late-night TV show was like pushing a
boulder up a hill, for those of us who lobbied for and explained hip-hop
— for many of us, to see LL rapping in the Gap commercial, "How easy is this?"
was a thrill, it was recompense, it was, dammit, fairness. And
integration. And it was not fried chicken! It was the Gap when the Gap
was hot. Somebody had to make the deal go — LL was bold and
unapologetic! Not a hint of pandering! It was not corny! Somebody was
behind the scenes, huffing and puffing, signing papers, negotiating —
lobbying. Getting paid and getting folks paid. It was Lighty's
Violator.
It was the kind of work
that moved Lighty and his team around the globe in first class and on
private jets. Chris himself moved through life with a smooth, mean grace
cultivated with his siblings, the notorious Lighty Brothers, in the
rust and rubble of the '70s and '80s Bronx. This during an era when
crack was only wack if you were doing it (as opposed to selling it) and
when hip-hop was learning to walk in the Sedgwick Avenue apartment of DJ Kool Herc.
Chris Lighty has been down with hip-hop since Day One. He comes from a
generation of entrepreneurs — Russell Simmons, Sean "Diddy" Combs, Shawn "Jay-Z" Carter — who dared act a part close to their actual selves in corporate America. They studied Berry Gordy and Ahmet Ertegun.
They told each other tragedy-laced stories about black artists of the
'30s, '40s, '50s and '60s who "died broke," or "didn't keep their
publishing," or just plain old got played by a business that used and
abused them. Lighty — and I know this because he's told me — wasn't
having any of that. He wanted to, and did, win.
He started young. There was Boogie Down Productions with Derrick "D-Nice" Jones, Kris "KRS-One"
Parker and Lighty's best friend, DJ Scott "La Rock" Sterling. They were
always together. But at the top of Lighty's legend is that he, known as
"Baby Chris," carried crates of records for pioneering NYC DJ Red Alert.
Red is related to Afrika Baby Bam and Mike G of the Jungle Brothers
(they founded the Native Tongues collective and set-up the larger
successes of De la Soul
and A Tribe Called Quest) and soon, Lighty was road-managing the trio.
He came then to the notice of Russell Simons and Lyor Cohen. He worked
for Def Jam Recordings for a while. One of Lighty's biggest scores there
was delivering recording artist Warren G
(who would go onto multiplatinum status) to Def Jam. Lighty had to go
head to head with Death Row's Suge Knight to make it happen. It can't
have been a picnic.
But soon after the release of BDP's Criminal Minded
in 1987, La Rock was shot to death while seated in a jeep outside of
the Bronx's Highbridge Projects. To many only a ghost from rap's past,
La Rock remained always at the forefront of Lighty's mind. He tweeted
about La Rock on the anniversary of his death—August 27. Three days
later Chris Lighty — a man who smiled often but who was still wary
enough that he didn't like a door at his back — was dead by his own
hand, outside an apartment he kept in the Bronx. A valiant attempt at
sorting the whys will be made. Those, and the wherefores, will likely
never be truly known.
To imagine
right now Lighty's brothers and children. To imagine Mona and Lyor.
Busta and Q-Tip. Mariah Carey. Red Alert. Even myself. The police say he
shot himself with a 9mm. This — like any sudden death, but particularly
with suicide — is a shiv to the heart. I spoke to him last when I was
still editor of Billboard, around the time his company,
Violator, was to merge with music publisher Primary Wave. Chris said
he'd rather I interview him, that he had a lot of respect for the
reporter I'd assigned. But he'd rather I write about him. We laughed
about it. He pressed. I pressed back. He spoke to the reporter. I'm
writing about him now.
Lighty, like
so many black men, was not given the luxury of being understood as a
multifaceted being. He has been called, I'm sure more times than I've
heard myself, a manipulative son-of-a-b——. He had a knack for getting
money. He could be intense, and surly. I recall Mariah Carey speaking of
him as one of the few gentlemen she knew. The ladies did love Lighty.
His charm — man! — even (perhaps especially) for business meetings, he
could turn it on. In a life filled with hotel lobbies, backstages and
restaurants of the moment, Lighty was always reading situations.
Anticipating. Strategizing. And then dinner was on him. If you were on
his mental list of people whose calls he'd return, he was faithful and
frank. To say that he remained streetwise even as he moved in rooms
where the discussions were about the global branding of superstars, of
big movies and world tours, is an understatement. The Bronx River
projects die hard. People may say they're "still that same person" from
the block, but Chris truly was. His Armani suit life was still ragged at
the edges with wickedness. A gentleman of course — and then of course
not.
He was a fixer, after all, a
manager of people, a crisis negotiator. And he had a habit, at least
with me, of calling, when professional beefs escalated, to utilize me as
a referee of sorts, a woman, who could be called upon to mediate, to do
her best to convince folks to keep things civil and human. We were the
kind of friends that so many of us are in and around the music business,
who battled to get the music heard, make it respected, to make a living
and have some power in it. There have been longish oases, but it's
been, actually, a difficult road. It has hardened us as it has refined
us. And now, as the whole industry creaks along toward its own
transformation, the going has gotten even more tough — different
reasons, but people are feeling the pain.
Catastrophically, the crisis
Chris could not negotiate his way through was his own.
And
as far as those of us on the outskirts of his life? We show up for each
others' brunches and baby showers and weddings and pick-up basketball
games, like the ones Chris used to have on his backyard court in New
Jersey. We throw tribute concerts. We write obituaries. We show up to
funerals. We shake hands with the "real" family in the front pews. And
they stare back with resentment, or maybe with some old and tired
gratitude, but mostly they stare through us. Yes. Chris Lighty made
history. He helped make hip-hop. He was a success story. He was a sweet
and brilliant man. But there will be no more knowing of him — the
complexities, the simple s—-, nothing. The man in the liner notes, the
kid backstage, the dude counting the show money, the father with his
children. It's beyond tragic. Everybody's Baby Chris is gone.
Xzibit hasn’t released a new album in nearly six years.
Well, the veteran rapper is back, re-entering the game with his new
album, Napalm, which is slated for an October 9 release. The project
will feature the likes of Wiz Khalifa, David Banner, E-40, Crooked I,
Prodigy, the Game and more, while Dr. Dre, Rick Rock, Akon and Illmind
are amongst those that earn production credits on X’s comeback LP.
“If you know hip-hop, you’re going to love and appreciate ‘Napalm,’” said Xzibit via a press release statement sent to XXL. “The tone of the album is a testament to what I’ve been through in the last six years. I’m ready to kick some ass!”
On the title track, “Napalm,” Xzibit drew inspiration from American troops and filmed the clip in Iraq.
“It was surreal when we visited real, relevant places like Saddam
Hussein’s Palace and actually filmed my video and documentary in there,”
X added.
Below is a full tracklist for Napalm and part one of four of his Napalm video series:
Napalm
1. State of Hip-Hop Vs. Xzibit (Prod. By Beat Butcher)
2. Everything (Prod. By Rick Rock)
3. Dos Equise Feat. RBK & The Game
4. Something More Feat. Prodigy
5. Gangsta Gangsta (Prod. By DJ Chill)
6. Forever A G Feat. Wiz Khalifa (Prod. By E. Dan)
7. 1983 Ft. Trena Joiner (Xzibit’s Mom) (Prod. By Insane Wayne)
8. Stand Tall Feat. Slim Da Mobster (Prod. By S1)
9. Spread It Our (Prod. By 21)
10. Up Out The Way Feat. E-40 (Prod. By Rick Rock)
11. Napalm (Prod. By 1500 Or Nothin’) (Drums By Travis Barker, Scratches By Sid (Of Slipknot)
12. Meaning Of Life Feat. Ret Staff Sergeant Shilo Harris (U.S. Army)
13. Louis XIII Feat. King T & Tha Alkaholiks (Prod. By Dr. Dre)
14. Enjoy The Night Feat. David Banner, Wiz Khalifa & Brevi (Prod. By David Banner)
15. Movie Feat. Crooked I, Slim The Mobster & The Game (Prod By Akon)
16. I Came to Kill (Prod. By Illmind)
17. Killer’s Remorse Feat. Bishop Lamont, B-Real & Demrick (Prod. By Focus)
Are Wiz Khalifa and Amber Rose expecting their first child together?
According to RadarOnline.com, the Taylor Gang rapper’s model fiancée is pregnant.
“Amber and Wiz unexpectedly got pregnant, but they’re really happy to
be starting a family together,” a source close to the situation told RadarOnline.com.
“Amber’s already had to make some big lifestyle changes, like not
smoking cigarettes anymore. As a model she’s used to having a thin
waist, so this is going to be an adjustment for her.”
The West Coast OG’s promoter apparently wasn’t handling the funds correctly…
Exchange LA, a nightclub in Los Angeles, filed a lawsuit against a
promotion company called Movement Management, which apparently reps
Snoop Dogg (who’s now known as Snoop Lion). According to the suit,
Movement Management made an arrangement to book Snoop for an appearance
at the nightclub on June 30th for a cost of $25,000. In order to secure
Snoop’s arrival, the nightclub claims it paid a $15,000 deposit to the
promoter. The trouble sparked when several days after the imbursement,
Movement Management backed out of Snoop’s appearance, as the rapper was
double-booked, and couldn’t keep the Exchange LA engagement. According
to TMZ, Snoop was actually in Europe when the event occurred.
Rightfully so, Exchange LA demanded the return of its money, but
after months of delay, Movement Management still hasn’t given back the
payment. Exchange LA has now filed a suit against Movement Management
for breach of contract and fraud, demanding $100,000 in damages, plus
the return of $15,000 in deposit.
"Basketball Wives" star Tami Roman and
her former NBA-playing ex-husband have finally settled an $800,000
child support lawsuit after battling for almost NINE YEARS, TMZ has
learned.
Roman filed a lawsuit in New Jersey way back in 2005 against her ex, retired NBA star Kenny Anderson.
Roman claimed he had stopped paying the court-ordered $8,500/month in
child support for their two daughters -- totaling $800k in missed
payments.
Sources close to Tami tell TMZ ... the two recently
settled the case out of court. We're told Tami received just south of
what she was owed and will be paid incrementally through Kenny's NBA
retirement fund.
We're told in return, all the warrants issued against Anderson for his unpaid child support were dropped.
Sources
close to Tami add that she is happy Kenny is becoming more involved
with their two daughters and is ready to move on from this chapter in
her life
Calls to both parties' lawyers were not returned.
If you won't be able to make it down to Philly this weekend for the Jay-Z-curated
Budweiser Made In America festival, Pandora and YouTube have got you
covered. Both websites will be live streaming the music fest -- with
headliners Jigga Man and Pearl Jam -- on Saturday, September 1st and
Sunday, September 2nd, from 2-11PM EST.
This is the first time Pandora has live streamed a music festival in
real time. If you happen to be enjoying the long weekend away from the
computer, fans can also watch the fest on their phone via YouTube’s
mobile website.
The live streams can be accessed with the following URLs:
YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/BudMadeInAmerica
Pandora: http://www.pandora.com/BudMadeInAmerica
Other performers hitting up one of Made in America's three stages
over Labor Day weekend include Skrillex, Jay Electronica, Run D.M.C.,
Odd Future, Drake, Jill Scott, Santigold, Miike Snow, Dirty Projectors,
Calvin Harris, D'Angelo, Maybach Music Group, Afrojack, Janelle Monáe,
Passion Pit, The Hives, Rita Ora, Gary Clark Jr. and more.
LOS ANGELES (AP) - Hal David, the stylish, heartfelt
lyricist who teamed with Burt Bacharach on dozens of timeless songs
for movies, television and a variety of recording artists in the
1960s and beyond, has died. He was 91.
David died
of complications from a stroke Saturday morning at Cedars-Sinai
Medical Center in Los Angeles, according to his wife Eunice David.
He had suffered a major stroke in March and was stricken again on Tuesday, she said.
"Even at the end, Hal always had a song in his head," Eunice
David said. "He was always writing notes, or asking me to take a
note down, so he wouldn't forget a lyric."
Bacharach and David were among the most successful teams in modern
history, with top 40 hits including "Raindrops Keep Fallin' On My
Head," ''Close to You" and "Walk on By." Although most associated
with Dionne Warwick, their music was recorded by many of the top
acts of their time, from the Beatles and Barbra Streisand to Frank
Sinatra and Aretha Franklin. They won an Oscar for "Raindrops Keep
Fallin' on My Head" (from the movie "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance
Kid"), Grammys and Tonys for the songs from the hit Broadway musical
"Promises, Promises."
David joined the board
of the American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers in
1974 and served as president 1980 to 1986. He was head of the
Songwriters Hall of Fame from 2001 to 2011, and was Chairman
Emeritus at his death.
"As a lyric writer, Hal
was simple, concise and poetic -- conveying volumes of meaning in
fewest possible words and always in service to the music,"
songwriter Paul Williams, president of ASCAP -- a role David filled,
before serving on the organization's board of directors -- said in a
statement. "It is no wonder that so many of his lyrics have become
part of our everyday vocabulary and his songs... the backdrop of our
lives."
In May, Bacharach and David received
the Library of Congress Gershwin Prize for Popular Song during a
White House tribute concert attended by President Barack Obama.
Bacharach,
83, thanked Obama, saying the award for his life's work topped even
the Oscars and Grammys he won for individual projects. David could
not attend because he was recovering from a stroke. Eunice David
accepted on his behalf.
"It was thrilling," she
said. "Even though he wasn't there, Hal said it was the highest
honor he had ever received."
More than 55 years
after their first songs hit the airwaves, Obama said "these guys
have still got it." He noted their music is still being recorded by
such artists as Alicia Keys and John Legend.
"Above all, they stayed true to themselves," Obama said. "And with
an unmistakable authenticity, they captured the emotions of our
daily lives -- the good times, the bad times, and everything in
between."
David and Bacharach met when both
worked in the Brill Building, New York's legendary Tin Pan Alley
song factory where writers cranked out songs and attempted to sell
them to music publishers. They scored their first big hit with
"Magic Moments," a million-selling record for Perry Como.
In 1962 they began writing for a young singer named Dionne
Warwick, whose versatile voice conveyed the emotion of David's
lyrics and easily handled the changing patterns of Bacharach's
melodies. Together the trio created a succession of popular songs
including "Don't Make Me Over," ''Walk On By," ''I Say a Little
Prayer," ''Do You Know the Way to San Jose," ''Trains and Boats and
Planes," ''Anyone Who Has a Heart," ''You'll Never Get to Heaven"
and "Always Something There to Remind Me," a hit in the 1980s for
the synth pop band Naked Eyes.
Bacharach and
David also wrote hits for numerous other singers: "This Guy's in
Love with You" (trumpeter Herb Alpert in his vocal debut), "Make It
Easy on Yourself" (Jerry Butler), "What the World Needs Now is Love"
(Jackie DeShannon) and "Wishin' and Hopin'" (Dusty Springfield).
They also turned out title songs for the movies "What's New,
Pussycat" (Tom Jones), "Wives and Lovers" (Jack Jones) and "The Man
Who Shot Liberty Valence" (Gene Pitney).
In a
1999 interview, David explained his success as a lyricist this way:
"Try and tell a narrative. The songs should be like a little film,
told in three or four minutes. Try to say things as simply as
possible, which is probably the most difficult thing to do."
The writer, who lived in New York, often flew to Los Angeles,
where he and Bacharach would hole up for a few weeks of intense
songwriting. Sometimes they conferred by long-distance telephone; "I
Say a Little Prayer" was written that way.
David
would recall working on a song that seemed to go nowhere. They
stuck it in a desk drawer and left it there for months.
"This was particularly disappointing to me. I had thought of
the idea at least two years before showing it to Burt," David wrote
in a brief essay on his Web site, www.haldavid.com. "I was stuck. I
kept thinking of lines like, 'Lord, we don't need planes that fly
higher or faster ... and they all seemed wrong. Why, I didn't know.
But the idea stayed with me.
"Then, one day, I
thought of, 'Lord, we don't need another mountain,' and all at once I
knew how the lyric should be written. Things like planes and trains
and cars are man-made, and things like mountains and rivers and
valleys are created by someone or something we call God. There was
now a oneness of idea and language instead of a conflict. It had
taken me two years to put my finger on it."
And so they had another smash: "What the World Needs Now is Love"
The hit-making team broke up after the 1973 musical remake of
"Lost Horizon." They had devoted two years to the movie, only to see
it scorned by critics and audiences alike. Bacharach became so
depressed he sequestered himself in his vacation home and refused to
work.
Bacharach and David sued each other and
Warwick sued them both. The cases were settled out of court in 1979
and the three went their separate ways. They reconciled in 1992 for
Warwick's recording of "Sunny Weather Lover."
David, meanwhile, went on to collaborate successfully with several
other composers: John Barry with the title song of the James Bond
film "Moonraker;" Albert Hammond with "To All the Girls I've Loved
Before," which Julio Iglesias and Willie Nelson sang as a duet; and
Henry Mancini with "The Greatest Gift" in "The Return of the Pink
Panther."
Born in New York City, David had
attended public schools before studying journalism at New York
University. He served in the Army during World War II, mostly as a
member of an entertainment unit in the South Pacific. After the war,
he worked as a copywriter at the New York Post, but music was his
passion and he had written lyrics for Sammy Kaye, Guy Lombardo
and other bandleaders before hooking up with Bacharach.
He married Anne Rauchman in 1947 and the couple had two sons.
He was a big man, Chris Lighty.
