THE ONLY BLACK GUY IN THE OFFICE
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Update 6/7/22: Level has a new home. You can read this article and other new articles by visiting LEVELMAN.com.
The day I sat behind a set of turntables with a kente print mask snug under my glasses watching Seattle’s Black folk roller-skate around a concrete court might just be one the most carefree occasions of 2020. For the few hours of Juneteenth I had off — for whatever reason, the “office” was closed on Blackout Instagram Square Day but not on the actual holiday celebrating Black liberation — I was excited to dust off my music hard drive and watch ATL-worthy skaters snake walk to Lloyd’s “Get It Shawty.”
Before the pandemic hit, I had two DJ residencies. The first ran every Friday night for about nine months. It was the place to be — that is, until gentrifiers complained about the noise and I lost the gig. (Mind you, the strip is filled with restaurants, bars, and karaoke joints that were just as lively as the venue I spun at. Sounds about White to me.) The second residency was at a spot predominantly frequented by what my friend has dubbed the “hip-hop Asian” community —…
