So this guy Tommy cuts my hair. He’s Ramones-esque, been rocking out in NY for several decades, lives life on his terms, looks like he’s palled around with heroin before – good people. We bullshit all the time while he’s trimming me up. He calls me “Mr. MTV big shot” and knows I’m a life long hip hop fan.
I was completely unprepared for the story he laid on me the other night.
Tommy: Did I tell you about my hip hop faker moment? This crazy shit?
Me: Naw man.
T: Dude! Get this. I just moved to Crown Heights. I’m the only white, punk-rock son of a bitch around. But I greet people with respect, so I get respect back, right? Well I’m at the store last week buying ice cream.
M: Yeah.
T: And these two big black guys roll up on me. I mean, I’m a little tiny motherfucker, so everybody’s big next to me. But they were big. And they got those golf hats on that the hip hoppers wear. Whaddayou call ‘em?
M: Kangols.
T: Yeah, Kangols. Fucking
old school. I remember that shit from when there waddnt no yuppies below 14th street. Couldn’t even walk around LES or Alphabet City after dark. Anyway. These black dudes tell me they’re making a NASCAR commercial. Ask me if I’m a singer.
M: Random.
T: Hell yeah random. But come on, they look at me, crazy looking punk-rock white dude in Crown Heights…they could smell it on me. They knew I had chops. And you know, I aint never did no NASCAR commercials, but I sing loud, angry, rock ballads. I’m allright.
M: I bet.
T: So I’m like what the fuck right? This dude tells me he’ll give me a hundred bucks. Says he tried to do it himself, but he sounds too urban. They need some of that Stephen Tyler shit. Something for the NASCAR fans.
M: So what happen?
T: I went with ‘em. Their studio was actually in their apartment, but it was CRAZY dude, all kinds of microphones and mixing boards and all that shit. And it was funny, cuz when I walked in, there were pictures of the one dude with all these stars…like Slick Rick? And Eddie Murphy, and that chick from Blondie and some others. You ever heard of Dana Dane?
M: Fuck yeah I’ve heard of
Dana Dane! Dude’s a legend, man! Total pioneer. He was way involved in hip hop’s golden age.
T: See, that’s what I thought. Anyway, he’s making fucking NASCAR commercials now. They had me sing some corny shit, “
Doooooing the checkered flag, waaaaaave-ah, doooing the checkered flag WAVE!” Then they had me sing overdubs, “
NASCAAAAAR, owwww!” A few other ones too. They wanted that soulful white boy shit. No problem.
M: That’s a nutty story man.
T: Hell yeah, but I didn’t think nothing of it. This guy said that if everything goes through, they’re going to get all kinds of money for this commercial. He said he’d hook me up. Like thousands of dollars. I don’t care about that shit. I only care about
my music. And eating my fucking ice cream. Nice guy, that Dana Dane.
Only in New York, baby.
In an added bit of total wonkiness, Noodles is collaborating with Dana Dane on the new hit single, “
No Amount of Money.” Support them motherfuckers!
