THE ANTHOLOGY

I have Tribe fever. So does the rest of the country it seems. I haven’t seen the documentary, but there have been too many nods to Beats, Rhymes & Life: The Travels of A Tribe Called Quest lately not to rekindle my long-standing love affair with ATCQ.

I’m not a jealous person. In relationships, I feel like the man I’m with is with me because he wants to be; other women have little bearing on that. Jealousy seems like a wasted emotion. But “jealous” is the only word befitting of my feelings for other people’s affinity for my band. A Tribe Called Quest is mine. They are my precious.

I spent my summers ‘back in the day on the Boulevard on Linden.’ While Chaz Michael Michaels was summering in Cape Cod, I was with my brother on 229th Street in Queens. I was the only girl on the block, as always trying to fit in with the boys. While I loved Barbie and Jem with the passion of the girly-est of girls, my summers were reserved for riding bikes, playing war games, jumping fences, climbing trees and (when we could scrounge up the money) walking two blocks to Linden Blvd to buy some Jamaican patties and coco bread. So you see, “Check the Rhime” was obviously written for me.

I left New York in the summer of 1988. I moved to Kentucky. There was no more diversity in my life. The rest of my adolescence was completely surrounded by Becky’s and Todd’s. And they did not like me or my ‘black hair and fat-ass thighs.’ So when ATCQ shook the hip-hop world in the 90’s, they reminded me of a time when I fit in. Their music made me feel like my brown skin and full lips (which Becky made fun of every day) were the standard of beauty, not shame. In a school where New Kids on the Block was the standard of cool for girls with blonde hair and blue eyes, I found a standard of cool that would come to transgress race and time.

ATCQ sort of fills my quotient of cool. I mean, I do not have a single dance move past the year 1992. I believe the Running Man is both an excellent workout and an effective way of expressing one's feelings of joy when an awesome song is playing. Additionally, the snake is such a natural movement that I imagine Bach did it as he was composing the Cello Suites. But when I left New York, all those many years ago, it was like my cool injections stopped. Forget the girl who peaked in high school. I leveled out at the age of nine. But at least I don’t need lip injections.

So go ahead and throw on your copy of The Anthology. Replay “Electric Relaxation” one or two or ten times. But remember, they don’t belong to you. ATCQ is mine.