DR. J'S SUPER THINK TROLL ASSOCIATES

What do Patrick Ewing, Rumeal Robinson, and Wayne Marshall have in common? They all went to high school at Cambridge Rindge and Latin, and they were all born in Jamaica -- except for the Wayne Marshall who submits the following "imaginary archaeology" of a mysterious recording by Dr. J; he does share his name, however, with a Jamaican singer and has written extensively about reggae (and hip-hop, reggaeton, and global club music) at his blog, wayne&wax. Follow him at @wayneandwax.

On one very merry late 70s Christmas morning, a young Markie D, yet to rise to local stardom as one of Boston's several answers to Doug E. Fresh, found in his stocking a cassette boasting amazing contents: basketball "SUPER THINK" according to Julius Erving. Released by the suspicious but nonetheless seemingly credible TROLL ASSOCIATES, Dr. J's informational and inspirational spoken-word performance had a reportedly noticeable effect on Markie's ability to penetrate the perimeter. But when those dividends dried up around the same time hip-hop came to town, the tape was -- somewhat ceremoniously -- taped over, scotch guarding the knocked-out knockout tabs that tell cassette-players to keep their heads to themselves. (As noted clearly on the cassette, duplication was prohibited, but the word was mum on overdubbing.) For several years the tape played host to the latest greatest raps one could catch on the airwaves, or copy via visiting cousins from New York.

Eventually, it served as the eye-popping receptacle of 9 minutes of beatbox fury, bragadocious cautionary tales, and reverb freakouts, carefully packed and mailed to DJ Magnus, whose "Lecco's Lemmas" radio show on WMBR (and later WZBC) was fast becoming the primary platform for the Bean's aspiring rap talents, including a young, recently-relocated-to-Brooklyn M.C. Keithy E (aka, the late, great Guru of Gang Starr).



The broadcast of these 9 minutes may have warped more minds than the TROLL ASSOCIATES' original and perhaps even taught more listeners the proper method for driving the lane despite that the wisdom of Dr. J had by this point been encrypted into a series of throat clicks, pursed-lip bass bombs, and allusions to famous German automatons counting in Spanish. Recently rediscovered by vinyl librarian Pacey Foster, Boston's premiere hip-hop historian and assistant professor of management, now you too can learn how to dunk like Dr. J, or at least maybe rock the bells like Markie D.

You May Have Heard It Happened

I know, not only is this site barren, I've now resorted to straightforward photos of players. Players I was slow to embrace as postseason creatures (for the record, it took one win before I believed Believe. There's a gulf between theory and practice for me, and it's called proof.) Really though, what the fuck does this image mean? Anyway, here's some stuff elsewhere, but all under FD's dominion, that may interest you:

-New Disciples of Clyde podcast.

-Ziller and I adventure into the Bobcats and get hit in the head with a pan.

-I'm writing every day about what happened, and what's about to happen, in the playoffs. You will like this one, which is about the logic of styles and systems and tropes of wisdom.

And, after much thought, this is my favorite Gangstarr song. There's some sentimental reasons at play, but I think that's the case with a lot of people's Gangstarr picks.