We’ll say late 1980′s, say 1988. Around the time of the D.A.I.S.Y Age. Remember that? You’re at a house party or hooky party or something, looking all afro-centric. You got the Africa medallion around your neck, some loose fittin’ pants, a crazy ugly jungle shirt and either you got the high top fade a.k.a flat-top or you began twisting that joint. You’re rocking those thick soled black shoes and somewhere on you, either your belt or one your shoes, you have this…

Somebody you know banged that joint off someone’s car the two nights ago and sold it to you, so you’re rocking it…….

Everyone’s dancing, having fun drinking, the music is banging…….

The DJ or the person acting like the DJ who’s really sitting by the tape recorder or boom box, flips the tape over to side B and the speakers start bumping….

[youtube = http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vpZqG_0oepg]

You hear the floor shaking. People are going for it. Then it happens……

A circle forms. The arena is here. The stage is set. It’s time for you to show what you got.

Time to Battle.

Remember that?

People would get in the middle of the circle, show their skills, their moves and just go for it. Skills. Battling.

Two streets crews would get it on at the Roxy. Breakdancing. BVD vs. Rocksteady. FAP anyone? Airbrushed sweatshirts and Lee jackets. Felt letters on their baseball caps. Name belts from the Flea market. Suede kicks.

[youtube = http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Leg3WJnttfc]

Battling.

You get in that circle and show your skills. Somebody starts beat boxing, and you spit. You didn’t have to be a rhyming expert, you just had to rhyme…

Weelllllll, my name is Fresh, and I’m one of the best,

Not like the rest, I dress to impress

And in school I pass all the tests….Rrrrrrr-ahhhhh.

That circle introduced you to the world. Showed you had skills. The battle was where you earned your respect. Where other people labeled you as the best or as we used to say it “NICE or DOPE”.

And yeah our parents would ask what the hell we were doing but they wouldn’t try and break up the circle. The circle broke itself up when the battle was done.

Form a circle nowadays and it’s rare someone is dancing in the middle. They’re fighting. Exchanging blows and that’s if they’re using their hands. Long gone are the days where the dookey earrings came off and the vaseline went on in excessive amounts on the face. Now, even the girls are carrying weapons.

These kids nowadays (not all, some) would not last a minute in a battle. If I told them “your mama so dumb she got stabbed in a shootout” – there might actually be a shootout. They take things personal. Rappers don’t battle. They beef with these bullshit bang bang shoot’em, I got bitches, I got hoes, I got money, watch my rims spin lyrics. They are self proclaimed egotistical idiots. But when the rims stop spinning, then what?

It’s wishful thinking. It’s a pipe dream but I want to go back to the Essence of it All.

“Leave your nines at home and bring your skills to the battle…..”