I didn’t have access to beats in 1989, so for this “Mother’s Day Rap” I used two tape decks to loop the open section of a De La Soul song. A segment of this old recording appears on my “Personal Journals” album and now that we’re celebrating the 10 Year Anniversary of its release it’s as good time as any to release this old recording in its entirety. It’s not the best rap in the world but it was better than just signing my name on a Hallmark card. I dedicate this to all the moms who let their kids play in the mud as well as the moms who make their kids clean up their act. My mom stayed supportive and let me explore my creativity, but she also pushed me to do good in school, work hard, and she didn’t put up with any BS.

'Cause sometimes just signing your name on a card doesn't cut it.

WILD WILD WEST (Kristoff Krane feat. Sage Francis & Sadistik)

To download, click the arrow pointing DOWN in the Soundcloud player above.

B. Dolan and I just finished our jaunt through Texas. We had a great time (you can read a review of one of the shows by clicking here)

My favorite part of this whole tour was getting to hang with B. Dolan for 5 days. We’ve been on our own separate tour paths since 2010, so it was really nice to joke around, dis rappers, and spitball ideas with him. Not to mention developing the whole Epic Beard Men concept on stage while performing our songs together again. Some of the material we performed together is from his new mixtape, “House of Bees Vol 2.”  Pre-order package deals are available at www.tinyurl.com/HouseOfBeesVol2

ENJOY and PLEASE SHARE THIS MUSIC!

The last time B. Dolan and I played Houston (show review here), we were on my LI(F)E tour. On this particular evening we were surprised to see that a popular national bank had set up a booth inside our venue. Apparently they were “sponsors” of the show. We harassed them until they left, but not until they hurled some threats our way. Stuff like…you know…we’ll never play this city again and we have no idea how detrimental this situation will be to our careers. Needless to say, we reveled in the moment, made them pack up their credit card offers, and bid them a fond adieu with a mature and age-appropriate gesture.

Courtesy of the creators of Knowmore.org

However, the most absurd experience I had in Houston took place during the Death Dance tour a couple years prior. Our show was at Warehouse Live, a venue with two separate rooms. On the night of our show, the second room was hosting a minor league pro-wrestling event. I’m not sure what it’s really called. It’s like pro wrestling but it’s not “pro.” It’s like backyard wrestling, but there’s no backyard involved. Anyway, my group was sharing the same backstage area as all of these wrestlers who were dressed in their tights and fabulous sparkly outfits. Despite our typically drab sense of fashion, we were mistaken as wrestlers throughout the night. I can’t understand why.

One of the wrestlers pulled on the shirt of my tourmate in order to wipe baby oil from his hands. Apparently this is acceptable behavior in their circuit of amateur pro-wrestlers. He apologized once we explained, one last time, that we were actually not part of their event. We had no trouble from there on out. At least not from the wrestlers.

Our show went off without a hitch. The crowd was rowdy, excited and appreciative. Things were going so well that the entire security crew decided to leave the club early because…you know…what the heck could possibly happen at an indie-rap show? And that’s when a slice of pepperoni pizza hit me in the face.

Since the show was going so well up to that point, and since everyone was in such high spirits, I showed good humor about it and kept the show moving. Hell, I’ve been known to throw food into the crowd from time to time. No big deal. But then came the crust, whizzing by my head at a “fuck you” speed. Almost as fast as the mood change once I stepped into the crowd, grabbed the pizza boy by his face and tossed him to the floor. I got back up on stage to finish my set, but he was too drunk to know when enough was enough. He came on stage, I knocked him down again, and that’s when my merch guy was kind enough to escort him out of the club.

When the show was finished we were told that the pizza boy had returned with a car full of people who were waiting for us outside of the club. It’s never good to get into these kind of altercations when you have 20 more shows to play, so we let the amateur pro-wrestlers act as a diversion as we snuck out the back of the club. Once we started driving it was clear that something was wrong with the van. It wouldn’t drive any faster than 20 MPH and I think the back axle gave out. We drove at a snail’s pace for about 5 minutes before I noticed a car behind us with no headlights. And then the headlights flicked on. And there they were – a clown car full of disgruntled pizza boys ready to avenge the fallen pride of their homie. And there we were – a van full of exhausted performers puttering along in the middle of unfamiliar territory hoping to to find our hotel before the van totally shit the bed. As fate would have it, we unknowingly headed straight toward a police station and this is when the pizza crew darted off into the unlit streets and aborted whatever mission they were on.

The next day, while waiting for the van to be fixed, I was alerted that the guys who were tracking us down the night before had guns. Really though? I slam dunk your drunk friend’s face after he throws pizza at me (adding the cherry on top of what was already an awesome show), and you’re going to retaliate with guns? I find that reaction to be A BIT EXTREME. Thankfully nothing stupid happened. Except for all of the other stupid stuff that happened. And now B. Dolan and I are coming back…ready to get stupid again. But let’s not get too stupid. We’re all adults up in hurr. Right, right? Fuggit…we’re fin to mess with Texas.

Sage Francis Show Dates in 2012.

But when we feel in the mood to freestyle, we do the damn thing. Total off-the-top improvisation. Below is one of the favorite cypher sessions I’ve ever been a part of. 2001′s “Orphanage Freestyle” on the Break of Dawn radio show (KFAI) = Eyedea, Slug, Sage Francis, Aesop Rock, Blueprint,  &Illogic  with beats being spun by DJ Abilities.

This is the “10 Year Anniversary” of PERSONAL JOURNALS, expect an “oldies but goodies” kind of set from Sage Francis.

Nonoti photo by Alex Forster

I regret to announce that we have lost a beautiful human being much too soon. Nonoti had a short and difficult life, but, as is stated all too often in instances such as these, at least her pain is over now. I was privileged enough to meet Nonoti during my trip to South Africa last year when I joined a group of people who assisted in the treatment and care of 50 orphaned HIV-infected children. I was out of my element so I mainly tried to just understand my surroundings and figure out why all of these children were stuck in such a dire situation. South Africa has the highest HIV infection rate out of any country in the world and this is mainly due to a lack of education and the initial misinformation propagated by the government. Not only that, but the stigma attached to AIDS and HIV prevents most people from getting tested and/or treated until it’s much too late. When the parents die, most of the children are left in orphanages (the ones I visited in the rural area of Illovo had no electricity or running water.) Not only are these places filled with sick children who have minimal access to good medication and food, but they are living in unsanitary conditions. Seeing all of this in person after having already fallen in love with the kids…it hit me hard. And it stays with me. I will talk more about this at some point, but for now I’d like to put focus on this little girl we just lost.

Out of all the children I met while in South Africa, Nonoti was the most noticeably affected by HIV. Her legs were full of lesions, she had marks and scars all over her body, and her energy was depleted. She was staying in a shelter for abandoned children in Umalzi. I was confused and concerned about how she was being taken care of, unsure of how she was being transported or looked after, and she often came to the treatment center wearing the same clothes. Despite all of this, she still had a beautiful glow. When her energy picked up, she began smiling more, opening up and trusting those around her. She was a little star and we did our best to make her feel that way. And I think she did. It was amusing to see so much personality in such a small person. I couldn’t verbally communicate with her as she only spoke Zulu, but the other people I was with were able to translate and help me understand her  situation. Thankfully, the adults and caretakers I met during my stay in Durban regularly checked in on her, they brought her to the Doctor for check ups, and they were kind enough to email updates on her status. The last update was a sad one. Nonoti apparently died of tuberculosis which was diagnosed too late due to it being masked by the HIV symptoms. I’m told that this happens often in that area.

To my extended family half a world away, I want you to know that my heart and thoughts are always with you. I look forward to returning so we can learn more about one another and share some happier times. To Nonoti…it was such a great pleasure meeting you. I wish more could have been done for you sooner. You’re loved and you’re missed. RIP

I’ve seen townships stand proud in the freeze-frame of a motion picture.
I’ve seen kids risk exposing themselves to a social stigma.
In the name of breaking patterns and cycles of ignorance.
Hearts full of hope, eyes full of innocence.
These are heros. Now I call to the heads of State,
Recognize greatness when it’s in your face.
I traveled half the globe to see boys and girls stuck,
Without assistance. You insisted on hosting the World Cup?
That ain’t love, brother. What happened to you?
You beautified the parts of the city that tourists travel through.
You built a gorgeous stadium that can’t sustain itself,
Flexing superficial muscles in a false display of wealth.
Your most important resources need major help.
Think of how the medication and information on AIDS is dealt.
Beautify the way you save yourself,
For God’s sake, for human sake, for the sake of public heath.
One medicine drop in a bucket eventually evaporates.
The socks I bought Zakheni won’t fix fractures or breaks.
It’s not my suffering. It’s not my needlessly complex infrastructure.
It’s not my culture. Nevertheless I see you.
Sawubona. Yebo. Unjani. How you doin’? I’m fine.
I’m just praying for science to turn water into wine.

AKA: Jay Vs. Silent Bob

3/15 Las Vegas, NV at Daddy Mac’s SOLD OUT!!!
3/16 - Los Angeles at Troubadour (with Metermaids) SOLD OUT!!!
3/17 - San Francisco  at Independent (with Metermaids) SOLD OUT!!!
3/18 - San Diego  at Belly Up (with Metermaids)
4/26 – AUSTIN at Beauty Ballroom (with B. DOLAN)
Click here for tickets.
4/27 – HOUSTON at Fitzgerald’s (with B. DOLAN)
Click here for tickets.
4/28 – SAN ANTONIO at Revolution Room (with B. DOLAN)
Click here for tickets.
4/29 – DALLAS at Trees (with B. DOLAN)
Click here for tickets.

As this is the 10 year anniversary of PERSONAL JOURNALS, I will be focusing heavily on that album during these shows. Click here for info on the Personal Journals “10 Year Anniversary” sale. (Includes signed CDs & vinyl.)

We had an amazing time. Thank you to everyone who made it out. Love the love.