Kings Go Forth Talk Basketball and Records

In my perfect world, I would have an Eames recliner. Also, there would be a band making music today that's influenced by old soul/funk without sounding derivative. And they would be into hoops. And there would be a serious record dude lurking in their ranks. The existence of such a band, and the chance to pick their brains, would be almost self-serving for me; I'm always knee-deep in NBA, and when I need air, I pretend to be a record collector. Which is, as some of you know, so much less stressful than following box scores.

As it turns out, dreams do come true. Not long after I first heard Milwaukee's Kings Go Forth, (late on this, I know), I got an email from their publicist pointing me in the direction of a Bucks vid using KGF's "One Day" as the soundtrack. I ended up sending some questions on NBA stuff for guitarist Dan Flynn, and record nerd queries for bassist Andy Noble. It might be the ultimate in narcissistic music writing, or the moment where I am made whole as a person (at least Internet-wise), but for real, you need to hear this shit. We'll even be running a contest: Send me your best pairing of a rare record with a semi-obscure NBA/ABA/Eastern League player, along with a little bit of explanation, and you'll be in the running to win a copy of Kings Go Forth's mightily-acclaimed debut, The Outsiders Are Back. Send entries to freedarko at gmail dot com.

Oh, and I got my chair.

Bethlehem Shoals: One of the things FD has been continually baffled by is the relationship between music and sports. Sometimes it seems merely aesthetic, other times,there's a deeper kinship there. I'm sick of being told that basketball is like jazz, and on the other hand, basketball = hip-hop is almost too fraught to get into. So, the blanket question: What do you think?

Dan Flynn: I think this question comes down to if you're looking at it from a player's viewpoint, or more a spectator's. I play both music and ball, and even when I'm watching/listening I'm doing so as an active participant—putting myself into the situation. I find a lot of similarities, and I think of both as forms of self expression through non-verbal communication. In each you have a framework; in basketball an overall game plan with some set plays and defensive schemes, and in music you have a song with a verse, chorus, etc. But over that song you can improvise. Take "One Day"—there's a basic drum pattern, conga pattern, bass and chordal pattern, but really the whole rhythm section is improvising over that framework, listening and playing off of each other. We've never played that song the same way twice. And [vocalist] Blackwolf never sings it the same way. It's group improv, which is very similar to say, running an offensive set in basketball. You never know what the defense is going to do and you need to adjust, you need to improvise.

Basketball is more relatable than any other sport because of the way it flows—few sports have the same motion. Maybe hockey and soccer, but definitely not football or baseball. Basketball's all about rhythm, and of course so is music. Especially music with some looseness to it like soul, funk and jazz, you can feel that push and pull, that ebb and flow.

BS: Kings Go Forth is a band that really reflects not only a respect for the past, but a real interest in the self-proclaimed "record guy" culture. After all, you have Mingering Mike doing the cover for the new record. You guys do have a very distinctive sound, one that's not just run-of-the-mill funk revival. I keep hearing, or at least hearing about, these random records that do cast a new perspective on a tradition. Any particular "unusual" records that really influenced you?

Andy Noble: Well, I'd like to think I'm on the front line of the record discoveries, as I am out there everyday digging, both traditionally and through talking to old artists/producers/etc. There's nothing I love more than uncovering something that was previously unknown and has musical validity to today's scene. Some of the things probably sound better today than when they were initially produced. But, as far as influence is concerned, it's not like there are magic rare records that I draw from that distinguish our sound from other groups'. I am equally as influenced by a Stevie Nicks' song that is playing in my girlfriends car as I am by some private-press, one-known copy spiritual jazz LP that I found last summer. Which is to say, I am influenced by all of it.

BS: Do you ever get anyone questioning the authenticity of soul/funk coming out of Milwaukee? It doesn't have quite the same tradition as, say, Chicago.

AN: Well, that's not really a matter of opinion, it's a matter of looking at my box of over 200 locally produced soul 45s from the 60s-80s and saying , yes, this was/is a thing. Hundreds of men,women, and children from this city entered mom-and-pop studios, probably inspired partly by the local successes of Harvey Scales and the Esquires, and cut some pretty great music. In my opinion, the sound of Milwaukee R&B would best be characterized as "low-budget" Chicago or "low-budget Midwest" Soul. We did not have the infrastructure of a Chicago or a Detroit as far as access to professional arrangers, string sections, etc., so the scope of the recordings are usually a little toned-down from what you would hear from those cities. I think that sound continues through our record, for sure.



BS: What players today would you say either match your guys's sound, or just generally the spirit of this style of music? Are the Bucks too scrappy and goofy? Can I cast a vote for Brandon Jennings as the lone exception?

Dan Flynn: That's kind of a tough question, I feel like I'm really reaching here. But it's funny, I'd say the scrappiness of the Bucks this year definitely fits us, and Jennings in particular. Another guy might be Manu Ginobili. We have a lot of excellent, seasoned players in our group, but at the same time I feel we often approach things with more of a punk/indie rock attitude. In fact the use of the word "janky" is pretty common amongst ourselves to describe what we're doing. That's what I feel separates us from the other groups out there in our style, as well as some of the older groups; we're not trying to be smooth. We're not afraid to be rough, ragged and raw—we don't care how we look doing it.

As far as style or aesthetics, he's not current but a year or so ago I DVR'd a bunch of early Jordan college and NBA games on ESPN Classics. I guess I hadn't remembered how hard he was rocking those Dr. J moves back then, and it was really interesting to see. He was somewhere between the style of the late '70s NBA and what he'd later become, which I think is pretty much still the modern offensive NBA style. You could see it was there, just hadn't developed yet. I guess that's where I see us, one foot in the past yet trying to see how to apply those classic elements to the present and future.

BS: Have you ever had stuff played at Bucks game, or gotten feedback from Bucks (or their fans)? That vid of Bucks footage and "One Day" worked surprisingly well.

DF: Not that I'm aware of. That video is a good fit though, but I have to say that song seems to be a good fit for all kinds of things. I occasionally play pickup games with Tony Smith, who does some commentary for the Bucks (and of course is a top player in his own right), I might ask him next time I see him. Actually I just wanted to drop his name. I remember a year or so ago someone mentioning a possibility of us playing at halftime, don't know what happened to that.

BS: How about some top five lists for the people?

Dan Flynn: For the record Steve Nash is my favorite player. But if I was putting together an all-time best as far as a team that would crush anyone I wouldn't pick him. Too much of a defensive liability. So at point, although not known for his D I'd have Magic. At shooting guard I'd have Oscar Robertson (yeah, I'm from MKE, but can you blame me?). Small forward MJ, gotta have him in there somewhere I guess (swing man?). Power forward maybe a healthy Kevin McHale. Wait, scratch McHale—I'd like to see Garnett and Bill Russell together. Defense.

Andy Noble: The five important records in my life:

-Love, self-titled debut LP. Soundtrack to my 20s.
-Pharoah Sanders, "The Creator Has A Master Plan". Saved my life a few times.
-The Impressions, "Mighty Mighty Spade and Whitey". I started digging for records because of this tune.
-Little Beaver, "Do Right Man" 45. SAADIA. First "big boy" record in my box.
-The Specials More Specials LP. Taught me that a "genre" band could completely break the mold and make something brand new out of a traditional form.

BS: Do you ever watch games on mute? If so, with what music on?

Dan Flynn: No, I don't. I no longer have cable, so when I'm watching it's mostly in the company of several others, or I'll have a game on the radio at work. Think I'm gonna have to get ESPN 360 next season. But I don't know if I'd like music at the same time, might take away from the focus/intensity.

BS: Describe your relationship to the past and the tradition, insofar as thinking about KGF's sound and style is concerned.

Andy Noble: Obviously we draw fairly heavily from the well of independent 60s-80s black american music, especially in the aesthetic department. I would like to think that the content, both lyrically and emotionally, of the music is as contemporary or "timeless" as anything else out there right now though. At least that's what I'm shooting for.



Thanks again to Dan and Andy for answering these questions, which were a lot more obnoxious in original form. Don't be shy about entering the contest! Or, save yourself the trouble and cop The Outsiders Are Back the old-fashioned way.

String Those Nerves Together Now

In olden days, I would have said "read what I wrote over there but this is the real", and then poured out my innards. But the problem with FanHouse is that they want me doing whatever. Have you read the previews Ziller and I did? I really couldn't make any less sense if I wanted to. So read them. Thus, as the playoff monster begins to stir, I find myself on my own doormat, faced with the possibility that what's on FD might be more straightforward than my "real" gig. Strange times we inhabit. However, I wanted to tend to these lands, dry and shriveled as they have become. So here's my very sober, useful rundown of Things That Persuade Me in This Postseason.

1. The Thunder--Really, can there be any doubt? Forget for a second that Durant is, if not LeBron's narrative, mystical equal, maybe even greater for not being equipped with a superpower's physique. He looks like I figure Young Ezekiel did, and also deserves some sort of otherworldly, possibly Martian, nickname. LeBron is, pardson the pun, all embronzed. Durant is exotic metals; there's a reason why, at one point, there was an Avatar comparison for him in a part of the new book. I think we finally decided it was at once too true and too silly to comprehend.

But the Thunder as a whole represent so much we've been in favor of while—and here's the kicker—without seeming like a leap of faith. Serge Ibaka is not a test. Russell Westbrook is not a test. The Hawks when they dared face Boston were exhilarating, but living on the edge can sometimes leave you feeling tawdry. No one thinks OKC beat LA, but good luck finding a single serious basketball fan who expects a sweep with zero intrigue.

2. Brandon Jennings--Tyreke Evans is a major stylist, and I still don't think people are letting that all-around game of his sink in. I've made my peace with Curry. But Jennings is the only one left standing, and while the Bucks are taking two games---no more, no less--tell me you aren't excited to see Jennings try his hand at the playoffs. No Bogut hurts the team's case, and Jennings' absolute value, and yet if the Bucks are going down anyway, why not do so with something resembling a Brandon Jennings showcase? I'm not talking about no 55; that's probably what led to his abrupt drop off the ROY map (and Curry's rise).

Let's just see Jennings carry himself like he belongs there, run his team, and demonstrate the game that makes him a clear-cut building block at the one. At the beginning of the season, the AI comparisons were pure bunk to me. I loved Jennings best when he slithered around the half-court looking to make a play. He can either jack up shots here in desperation or dig in and try to animate the bunch. One good thing about Skiles: He will be, umm, gently pushing for number two.

3. Dwyane Wade-- No one told me, I didn't notice, and frankly (stats aside), it didn't show all the time. But Wade was still pretty out-of-this-world in the 2009-10. Thus, I am looking forward for Wade to really blow it all out. That Round One is against Boston, the perfect team to fly headlong into and hope for collapse (or a revved-up guitar soundtrack) (is it so wrong that I once found a LeBron mix soundtracked with Iron Maiden?).

Despite what I've been writing at FanHouse, I don't quite get how players are thinking of these playoffs in terms of this summer. No one needs to be convinced that Wade can prevail, at least game-to-game. Still, 2010 is more than a rat race, it's a pecking order, with LeBron's 2010-ness having become some measure of his absolute power over the league. Not that Wade can nibble away at that, but riding high as the Free Agency babble begins is very much the new pecking order around the league. Like standings or balloting ever matter; there all we ever hear about is the winner. Not so with 2010. The whole world is watching and Wade is certainly looking to gain a little on LeBron. The question, though: What happens to this hierarchy once 2010 is over?



4. Bobcats WTF--I really, really need some help on this one. It's almost like when you go to a mental hospital in the fifties (okay, I'm imagining Shutter Island), and everyone's sweeping floors and playing Risk!, and then all of a sudden there's a disturbance and things really jump off. Is Larry Brown the warden? Wait, how is he not—I'm sorry to repeat myself so often on this count—the Bad News Bears coach? (Billy Bob version, motherfuckers . . . if I go down that path, I go down it all alone.)

Stephen Jackson, Gerald Wallace, Tyrus Thomas, Boris Diaw, Tyson Chandler, even Raymond Felton . . . it's like karmic revenge for the Believe! Warriors. If you let me coach this team I would discover Atlantis and burn down a subway. But no one's even suggesting that this team is scrappy, or violent, or even miscreants floating out on a boat somewhere (love that movie Strange Cargo!). For God's sake, didn't Stephen Jackson decree himself a pirate at some point?

5. Please let the Derrick Rose backlash begin now. Please bring back that psychedelic karaoke Luol Deng.

6. In the immortal words of J.E. Skeets, WHAT DO YOU THINK!??!!?!??!?

Get Word Gargle!

Behold, the latest Disciples of Clyde Podcast:



Further explanation here. There is military equipment involved, at least the imaginary type.

Now, allow me to briefly steal my own show. This place is my rock, my shelter, so I'll say it here: I don't care if no one else noticed about Jennings's bipolar twit, or subsequent denial. Here I am before and after. I'm not mad at Jennings, nor do I feel I'm some kind of world-class dupe. It was a reasonable statement to make and I reacted thus; it turned out to be an ill-advised, if only slightly tasteless, "joke." We move on.

But what's sickening me is the folks I'm seeing who think that this didn't even warrant consideration. Sorry, but 1) it happened and 2) it touched on something real, and real to the NBA, no less. Someone made a point that schizophrenia's become a joke of sorts, which means it's all good and I'm overreacting. That makes some sense to me, though I'd argue that schizophrenia humor is, like cancer puns, one of those things that presumes shock value or considers its object only in the abstract.

As I've said, I really don't care that much. Yes, Jennings's "joke" (not much of one when he's such a weirdo, and many found the charges plausible, leading to whispers of a cover-up by his agent) struck a nerve and made a fool of me. But it also made him look bad. I don't get why that's conveniently brushed aside. I mean, really, explain to me how there's nothing to this and I'm attacking a poor kid over nothing? There is a world outside the internet.

Let's at least have that conversation. Then we can forget all about it, like I did when I wrote that second piece. Just acknowledge that telling me to "lighten up" is bullshit. Oh, and someone please ask Delonte West how he feels about this.

THAT'S WRITE MESSAGE BOARDS AND TROLLS, I'M TALKING 2 U!!!!!!

Stop, Listen, and Ears

Dan is joined by Ken, who was first on an old computer and then on an old phone. Ken says he used to have good equipment, but that his dog ate it.



Anyway, they still managed to get in a good discussion of the Bucks playing defense, Brandon Jennings playing point guard, the Thunder playing defense, the Knicks playing decently, Nate Robinson playing, John Wall playing incredibly, the poor play in the Kentucky-Louisville game, and Gilbert playing with guns.

No playing!

Songs from the episode:

"Brand New Day" - Dizzee Rascal
"Great Expectations" - The New Year
"Tron Man Speaks" - Antipop Consortium
"It Ain't Nuthin' (The Chapter Remix)" - MF Doom
"Freaks in Charge" - Superchunk

Hey! You! Subscribe via iTunes!

My Icing for a Cake

First, the podcast:



Dan sat down (enter the virtual sitting space?) with Kelly Dwyer, who needs no introduction. He also once penned (meta-finger carved?) this beyond-the-moon classic of an FD guest post. They discuss Kelly's hustle, his m.o., and naturally, the Bucks, the new official team of the podcast. Here is the most fair, honest, and useful assessment of Skiles as a coach you will ever get. Good stuff on what's missing from the Thunder this season.

Songs from the episode:

“I Like Everything About You” - Jimmy Hughes
“I Want to Take You Higher” - Sly and the Family Stone
“Eye Know” - De La Soul
“Heavy Makes You Happy” - The Staple Singers

-In other news, I have another Iverson column—longer than the last, making a case for him and the Knicks that a lot of people will hate.

-For discussion at a later date: Everyone reading knows of my single-minded devotion to the Hughes/Arenas back court of yore, or my belief that Mo/Delonte is a poor man's version of that. But what about this year's mounting trend of playing two "pure" PGs at once? Dallas, Milwaukee, Denver, Portland, Atlanta ... maybe David Kahn wasn't so crazy after all. I have no idea, are Sessions and Flynn sharing the court at all? Just wait till Rubio shows up!

That Old Weird Horizon

Before I get serious, take a look at this list of records I'm too lazy to put on eBay just yet. And listen to the newest Disciples of Clyde-cast, featuring Kelly Dwyer. Will be posted here later in the week, but it's there for you, now. Thanks!

I have never felt a post as profoundly as the one I've labored over since Monday night. Various abortive attempts have included "I want to be free. The more we know, the more we want to tear it all down"; a discussion of whether the relationship between knowledge and ardor in sports was like or unlike that in sports; digging around for a Heidegger quote that worked out of context; a tangent on Cotto where I wrote just like Shoefly; and the question of elitism in non-snobby watching, i.e. "I get this shit so much better than everyone else around me."

But what I really should've done is listen to my heart, to pay attention to the largely sports-driven moods that have so thoroughly burnt, cleansed, and smushed me since Saturday. The long and short of it is this: I watch sports like an expert, even if I don't know what I'm talking about. I feel, but I also look for details and seek out analytic angles. We are all guilty (if that's the word) of this to some degree; no one is born into sports. Even those who don't know much are still, as highly-evolved cognitive beings observing an activity bound by rules and order, looking to make sense of it all. Greatness is always contextual, and if pushed to its logical extreme, at the distant horizon of Dr. Jack Ramsey we find either the grandest palaces of Jordan and Pippen, or the strike-team ambushes that strike heads from off of idols' shoulders.

Originally, I thought I'd come out of Manny/Jennings/John Wall/remembering Iverson blitz having hit on a new kind of fan experience. Call it innocence, call is blissful ignorance, throw out your favorite lines about the eyes of children or being on acid. As I watched Pacquiao/Cotto surrounded by a large extended family whose knowledge of boxing ranged from encyclopedic to nil, all of whom responded to Manny's space-and-time defying combos with the same oohs and aaahs (admittedly, unorthodox technique and cultural affinity played some role here), it dawned on me: There exists a type of athlete so crackling, inventive, and forceful, and elemental, that they become the great equalizer. It doesn't matter how intently you've followed their career, or a sport. When Pacquiao goes on the attack, Jennings launches into one of those trances where swagger, will, and basketball IQ find themselves in perfect harmony, John Wall hits a game-winner as if to say "enough, it's time to start this season", or Iverson's latest ugh-fest sends us all scurrying back to video of the young AI (funny how different those initials sound now as a nickname, almost like Roman numerals) . . . we find ourselves in a state of wonder that strips away all of our hours and hours of learning.



That was the thesis. These players are ultra-accessible because they tap into a different part of our psyche, infectious and impossibly popular because of the wonderment they inspire. And for those of us who have seen it (and them) all before, each time it happens, it's like we're seeing it for the first time, like we may never even have seen the sport before. I don't want to reduce it to pure aesthetics, or the quote I read somewhere (anyone?) about basketball appealing most to casual fans because of the highlights and sheer poetry of movement. I still maintain that the narrative of a football game is easier to follow, but whatever. I think that one of the reasons it feels natural to include a boxer in here is that, if on some level basketball attracts us with its spectacle of dashing, cutting, and leaping, then boxing is a fist-fight—pretty basic human experience—potentially raised to the level of magic and mystery.

I don't want to say they transform the mundane, because that completely undermines the competitive and technical aspects. However, these athletes affect hit us right in the reptile brain, and send us reeling from there. I don't really think this describes the typical viewing experience of the fan who knows not to ask. My sense is that, for the most part, sports become easier to invest one's self in the more you know about them, and vice-versa. The trick is that this class of athlete short-circuits this relationship. They don't transcend the burden of understanding, they tear down the very parameters by which understanding is so strictly tied into spectatorship. Call it ecstatic viewing, performance without description, or the belief that some moments in sports can cause sports to fall away and just sit there in front of you, beaming, as if their power were inherent, their expressiveness final, and their ends, inevitable, if not irrelevant.

This isn't Kobe ruthlessly working his way through the end of a game, but a wisp of a 20 year-old doing it all in one fluid motion, as if to come up for air would be to let in a host of distractions and contradictions for which neither he—nor we—need confront. Not during this window into a kind of sport beyond sport that never risks cheapening itself or its devotees. One that can't last forever and yet this past week, seems to have.

In This Hour of Totality

Manny still lingers, John Wall's debut is vague, if crackling, until the final exclamation point, Jennings with a positively fearsome second half and OT in a loss to the Mavs. They threw everything at him, including the war with Beaubois that was like watching photon particles at play, and the plays still happened. And looming over, under, or behind it all, this Iverson news that raises more questions than it settles.

Here's my magnum opus on Allen Iverson, right and now and forever, at least until his career's a decade in the ground. It sounds like this:

Allen Iverson was, and still is, heaven or the great below. He shakes basketball to its very foundations or, according to some, is foolish enough to think he can. He changed the game, though not necessarily for the better. We have been forced to take him at face value, and in the process awaken all sorts of even more inspirational, or degrading, feelings about race, culture, and the structure of American society. "Ambivalence" doesn't even fit. That was Kobe; Iverson is a player who exists in two different worlds.

Now go read the rest, so you won't be sore if this Manny/Jennings post waits another day. Oh, and speaking of Manny. . .



That's the trailer for his new film, and I like to think the crab represents Floyd. Via Sporting Blog, via Last Angry Fan and Film Drunk.

Final announcement, until I try and post late in the day: I've thrown caution, and looks, to the wind and just started throwing up out-of-print NBA classics in the Amazon widget. Profit motive aside, you people really need to read all of these.

Remorse Isn't Picky

Okay, so I didn't get around to getting anything longer about Jennings near finished. Partly because it was drawing parallels between that and Manny's performance, which is stupid unless you attach a bunch of qualifiers to it. Or are drunk. Luckily, my argument is primarily about spectatorship and aesthetics, as you'll see tomorrow. But still, I felt I needed a little more distance, as I don't want anyone to kill me. I don't know, what do you think?

Instead, some Jennings odds and ends, to go with the "what do you think":

-My Baseline piece on what 55 really means for Jennings as a player.

-Ty Keenan proposes another read participation acitivity: Who can come up with the best Jennings/Minutemen joke?

-Toward the "what exactly happened in Italy?" question, Sixers4guidos translates and sends along part of a column published today in the Italian daily Il Messaggero. Title: "Jennings, From Bust to Scoring Star."

"We talk again about Jennings, considered a spoiled and insecure kid here in Rome... now a star in the NBA....he shocked the League with a stunning show... he did well also in preseason now he got attention from mainstream media and gained trust from many... but in Rome he was little considered... they never had faith in him, (giving him) few minutes on the court (and he produced) obviously few points... to be honest, he never excited (people) in the few occasions he played, even shoving an attitude that could have been considered ornery/morose... sure, US bball is different from european, few defense and many chances to show (someone's) shooting ability... he was the first to jump from high school to Europe..."

He's saving some other choice excerpts for his own spot, so check back there later. Update: Here's the post.

-Why do I think that by watching Jennings again tonight, it'll sort of be like getting to see John Wall's debut?

WHAT DO YOU THINK?!?!?!!?!??!?