As evidenced by the fact that ye olde Americana doesn't seem to be going anywhere, I may be speaking mostly for myself when I say I miss the days when streetwear was streetwear. And when I say streetwear my friends, I mean streetwear. Reminisce with me for a moment back to a time when one could find the youth of the city draped in all-over print hats, jeans in varying states of full blown day glo hues and t-shirts that demanded a particular sort of attention (most often through clever combinations of conventional logo's and that tried and true stalwart of the English language, "fuck"). It was a special moment. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, and when it came to those defining years when streetwear was pushing culture, not a mainstream part of it, nobody did it better than Pegleg NYC.

The brain child of a gang of New Yorkers, Scott Williams, Bobby Waltzer, Nick Poe, and Harry McNally, Pegleg NYC was without question one of the more daring and innovative streetwear lines in a genre that was already seen as something of a loose cannon in a world that was still recovering from 3XL's t-shirts or mainly concerned with SB Dunks and Levi's STF's. The line was a statement of color blocking mastery, with the occasional experiments in ridiculous full body floral, vectorized fruit, polka dot jeans, and towards the end of their storied run, impressive heather's and basics. Basically, it was everything a great streetwear line should be, irreverent, brash, innovative and immaculately conceived. If you saw someone else with Pegleg in 2006, you know they put in groundwork to get their hands on a piece.

I remember walking into Charlotte Ronson behind Broadway, a tiny shop situated below street level by a few steps, and clearly one of those stores where from the outside you know there's a requirement that you be a ninety five pounds, blonde, and a woman to enter, just to get my hands on the few pieces of Pegleg you could buy in person in New York. They had a tiny shelf in the back of the store stocked with all of the latest tee's and a few hangers worth of sweaters. Mind you this is in high school and I was taking NJ-Transit-Bandit-train journeys into SoHo expressly to get my hands on something very few other people had. It all seemed worth it back then, the Pegleg offerings got more and more mind blowing season after season. "Phil, why is there a fucking arrangement of fruits on your tank top?" was something I heard more than once and to date I've probably had more people ask me about this hoody than any other piece hanging in my closet. Supreme was cool and all and thankfully not resting on the head of each passing kid at the time and A Bathing Ape was without a doubt prime if you could afford more than a t-shirt, but there was something about Pegleg and knowing that a few young kids from NY were designing the line that made it seem like it was ours.

Before I get emotional describing how genius it was for Pegleg to be producing selvedge jeans in 2006 with a plaid cuff lining long before everyone began dressed like a J.Crew catalog, or how they moved before the market, flipping traditional oxfords and khaki's into flippant all-over print takes on classic pieces before you all traded your Jordans and Street'd your Etiquette (all due love to the brethren), let me just say this. It's sad to see some of the once dominant streetwear lines reduced to pale imitations of basics you'd be far better off buying at the Gap.

There's a reason we were all attracted to these brands back in high school, and it's not because they could find an innocuous way to sew their logo along the waist line of a half assed, cheaply produced chino pant. Streetwear was glorious when it still knew that it was streetwear, and while I'm not asking for anyone to revive the Retro Kids (God forgive us for that), it sure would be nice to see some of the legends drop the collars in favor of some color blocked ignorance. I'm not saying I'll wear a Chain Gang hoody again, but the thought process it took to put that together is exactly where I wish things still were. So, my Pegleg brethren, I've spoken to you guys about this at just about every opportunity I get, but it's time to remind the rest of the gang where it all started and start throwing around some watermelon print overall's or something. At least re-releases? This "Very Fancy" crewneck is starting to get holes in it.

Applause for one of the best to have ever done it.

See the rest here.

THE LOFT.

Something special is happening in Hoboken, New Jersey and it's one of the most tragic failures of our little culture here that it's not being celebrated. Our old friend TONE is a legend by all definitions of the word. He's been documenting New York culture since the days when you had to use those free AOL internet CD-ROMS to get online and even then the only reason you were logging on was to play games on Miniclip. So while I was playing online put-put golf, and soon after all of us were entering our infant stages of Hypebeastery, this small unassuming guy named Tone was quietly doing some of the scene's most integral and original work. How come you've never heard of him? Where's he been the past few years? Let's talk about this for a second.

TONE has been doing this for a long time but there's no way you'll get him to talk about it. He's a colossal content creating machine who does it purely for the sake of creativity. Period. He's been documenting every aspect of downtown, creative New York culture with back breaking work effort for years and will never brag about it. So I'll do the bragging for him. All of those kids you see slinking around the background of parties, toting around DSLR cameras, likely wearing non prescription over sized glasses? They owe something to Tone. He created their lane and they more or less trampled all over it with half assed work done in an effort to get a 1,000 Twitter followers and free entry to parties. It's disgusting like bad J.Cole singles and the freezers featured in Gordon Ramsey's Kitchen Nightmares. But before I get into a whole different conversation and crucify the budding careers of a few high schoolers, let's keep things positive and forward moving. Like how Tone quietly elevated his craft, built a team, and is now producing what is probably one of the better online experiments this side of the Mississippi River.

Live At The Loft is a beautiful thing. In a world of intangibles, internet friendships, online dating services and collaborations that happen across email rather than in person, LATL is a stunning accomplishment in vividly tactile creativity. Just about once a week, every Friday, folks from every walk and corner of life cram themselves into Tone's loft in Hoboken, New Jersey. It's packed to the walls with small mammal sized pillows, couches, and chairs, danging lamps and hand painted signs punctuate the bricked walls. Hipsters, hoodlums and the occasional instrument playing hobo make up a crowd as diverse as a United Nations meeting all under the flag of listening to live, original music. Bands travel from as close as Brooklyn and as far as Canada and France to play a live set for a rambunctious crowd that's much more happily drunken, slightly dysfunctional family than the usual crossed armed, stiff faced music "fans" you find at New York venues.

And in the background, ever hovering, ever at work, smiling slightly at what he's created with his hat strapped backwards squinting through the viewfinder of a 5D, is TONE. Documenting every moment of the show for everyone at home. It makes me incredibly happy to have seen this idea go from formation to full blown execution. It left the scribbled napkin, took form from the drawing board, and now, you yourself could stumble on over to Hoboken on a Friday afternoon bundled up in your best winter jacket, knock on the front door of the unassuming old brick building book-ended by brand new condo's on each side of the block and find a warm room full of beautiful strangers offering you a seat and a cold beer. They'll be there every week, whether or not they're being blogged about, regardless of how many Twitter followers they have and even if they can't convince a company to give them some free beers because they don't have enough "influence." They will all be there because they love the Loft. They'll be there because they love music. And they'll be there because Tone refuses to allow the allure of corporate crossover to influence the authenticity of his creative drive.

And my friends, there is truly nothing better than that.

--

+Learn more about Live At The Loft on their website.

+Watch every episode of Live At The Loft on Vimeo if you live somewhere like Ohio and can't attend in person.

Stay Safe-Phil.

At some point last eve, perhaps around midnight or so, a distant corner in the far reaches of the Madbury Attic was lit by the dim yellow glow of a tired old lamp. Hushed whispers of excitement punctuated the soft warbling of a Temptations record in the background.

Bryan, Phil, and Vinny sat gathered around a huddled mass of assorted goods. Culled with precision from decades of careful search and rescue, this fabled pile of garments, goods, and general grandeur were acquired from the immense Fernblake Archive. A collection so vast and legendary, we're still just beginning to wrap our humble heads around the treasure chest upon which we miraculously stumbled.

Legends are told about collections like these. Boys become men because of stories like this. It's not something we can simply release for general internet consumption. We're carefully plotting how best to impart this knowledge and visual glory to you. One thing is for sure. This is going to be one of the greatest Madbury Club spreads in our short but prolific history.

The Fernblake Archive is coming.

Follow the story after the Read More.

As you can see, I, Phillip T. Annand, am hastily attempting to warn Vinny and his camera of the danger that comes with haphazardly attempting to photograph something of this stature. Watch your step kid. Bryan looks on from the background, non-pulsed but showing signs of utter shock at the immensity of the discovery. Please do not question why I am wearing an Israeli Military issued camp hat. Some things must simply exist.

Nor should one question why an L.L. Bean fanny pack is being worn indoors. The question you should be asking is why an L.L. Bean fanny pack has never graced your own waist line. Literature and dusty records pulled from Madbury's own Dusty Basements line the floor. Visual glory of all sorts follow. Guard the little one's eyes, please.

The Fernblake Archives are coming soon to a screen near you. Walk with us.

-PHIL

DC Shoes LiFE Presents My Studio Session - Phillip T. Annand from Hommy (aitcHDee) Diaz on Vimeo.

Madbury Does Goblin. (TRAILER) from The Madbury Club on Vimeo.

The Madbury Club's live street review of Goblin will release on Wednesday May 18th 2011.

Hahaha. No words necessary. I'll save them for Wednesday when the full video drops. Hilarious.

While my early 90's leanings may by default make me a fan of some of the verses Consequence has uttered over the course of his largely depressing career, this little action right here, I cannot excuse. So with the Blind Fury of someone who spends too much time around a keyboard, I must respond in the only way I know how.

I have a vivid imagination. So when I see something like the embedded video above, I can't help but think about what Consequence has gone through in his nearly twenty year "career."

First of all, Consequence is Q-Tip's cousin. Which raises immediate questions as to why he was allowed a guest verse on Beats, Rhymes, and Life in the first place. In my mind, Q-Tip and/or Phife Dawg probably absconded with Consquence's girl at some point during the heydey of their popularity, and in return they gave their little cousin a chance to hop on a record.

Little did they know that in doing so they were creating an eternal Cousin Skeeter (with voice to match) who would could ride coat tails with the proficiency of a porn star and play the background like a poorly constructed seventh grade school set.

After living off of hype generated from guest verses on Tribe songs for the better part of a decade, Consequence is somehow miraculously still here and still being a nuisance. Consequence is sometimes, but not really, maybe on Wednesdays, but definitely not on stage a member of G.O.O.D. music. He calls the label his "crew." And with the deft of a Shaolin Master with a degree in the "Da Mystery of Coattailin' " he sometimes appears on tracks, in videos, and with varying frequency releases his own music that admittedly isn't always offensive to the ears.

Both of the fake Kardashian sisters pictured above are wondering how and why Kanye West's body guard hopped in the picture. Oh wait.

But what the hell is this? Dissing Kanye West? Airing his personal business? Publicly exposing the man who has kept you barely relevant by the very last strand of "Oh-yeah-he-was-pretty-cool-in-the-90's-nostalgia?" Kanye West, the man who has kindly has built a patio towards the rear end of his coat upon which Consequence has been allowed to erect a small mansion?

I'm thoroughly disgusted.

My favorite part of the video is when Consequence attempts to justify his actions by stating that every and anyone, friends, family or foes, all want "the crown." Is Peter Jackson creative directing Consequence's career now? Is this the fourth installment of Lord of the Rings?

Consequence talking about "the crown," is like Jared Jeffries talking about how he wants to come back next season and be the best big man in the NBA. Get out of here dude. Not only will it never happen (Like Donald Trump co-signing Barry O's birth certificate), it should never even be conceived to happen. (Like Lil Wayne impregnating Lauren London.)

The complete lack of respect and friendship here is just sad. This isn't a complete vindication of Kanye West either, he's long been known to pick up someone's career, issue words of bravado and soon to come success and then proceed to leave them quietly waiting in one of the many Art Deco hallways that probably litter his home. Just ask Mr. Hudson who is now serving Manhattans and Heinekens as the resident G.O.O.D. Music butler.

I'm sure Kanye didn't play fair. And I'm sure there is more to the story. But Consequence is like the drunk Uncle at the family barbeque who just won't leave. There's a certain line you just don't cross, and Cons managed to take a Hulk sized leap across the border. For hip-hop's sake, I hope Ye' keeps it moving and Consequence starts thinking about the next stage in his career. UPS has been hiring since B.I.G. left us and Mr. Hudson could probably use a hand in the kitchen.

It doesn't get much better my friends.