ODB is dead.
And that is a damn shame. THE HIP CAN CHOKE ON THEIR IRONY AND DIE; we really liked ODB and thinks it's terrible that he's gone.
When we hit the road about two years ago, we brought Justin's copy of Nigga Please along and ended up listening to it about three times a day. That record is mindbogglingly mindboggling. Even listening to it today brought the same mix of hilarity, unhinged wonder and the more than occasional "Wait, what the hell was that?"
Our friend Matt did not laugh at all when he listened to that record. "The guy is in pain," said Matt, empathetic and serious. Matt was right. But we both still laughed ourselves sick because ODB was giving shout outs to the Eskimos and claiming immunity to all viruses. Thad points out that now ODB is also giving a shout out to Moses, Jesus, Allah, and Vishnu.
Others can eulogize him more appropriately than we can. And no doubt the profiteering date-rapists in the Insane Clown Posse will jump at the chance to cash in on ODB's death. And Roc-A-Fella will probably put out another half baked studio mess that smears ODB across a bunch of studio hack beats. We just know that when it's four in the morning and we're both falling asleep as we drive to the next place to play a show, 78 MPH bound across poorly lit highways and no other traffic, we go to our man with the plan to make sense of it all. That man is ODB and we will miss him.
[ Studio Construction - 11.21.04 ]