What’s Poppin’ in ATL?
By guest blogger C. Daniel
October 25, 2008.
It is a brisk Saturday evening in Atlanta. Inside of Ambient Studio, a rundown warehouse in a desolate area near some railroad tracks, there’s a party goin’ on like it’s 1984 all over again.
It’s a night made for a throwback celebration. The tight stairway walls are covered in peeling paint, but it doesn’t matter once everyone hits the top floor. The event, All Targets Leveled (ATL), is a nationwide breakdance competition unlike any other. Set up in a large dance studio, the room resembles the set of Janet Jackson’s 1986 “Pleasure Principle” video and the final dance scene in 1983’s Flashdance. Ambient Studio is its own private Heaven: bright white walls, huge windows overlooking the city, heavy stage lights, and a hardwood floor plastered with cardboard cutouts.
The center stage, which site behind a gate, is the winner’s circle. There is a decrepit Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme frame covered in spray paint. The “Speed Limit 35” and “Stop” signs next to the beat up vehicle are also both covered in graffiti, along with a tagged picnic table and garbage bin. A pair of knotted black and white sneakers even dangles from power lines. Above the set is the DJ, mixing numerous breakbeats and funky instrumentals with old-school hip-hop verses by Gang Starr, Big Daddy Kane, Marley Marl, K-OS, D-Nice, and Chubb Rock, to name a few. The set could pass for a New York borough in the days of Rubik’s cubes, Atari, gold ropes, fat laces, raccoon-tailed hats, and “Master Blaster” boomboxes.
It’s 8 P.M., and the evening starts off slow but on a good note. The competition opens with 16 participants battlin’ it out between two ciphers on each side of the studio. The crowds, sittin’ Indian style in semi-circles, look on while other spectators take pictures against the corner “ATL” slate. As the DJ cuts and scratches, there is endless poppin’, lockin’, and backspinnin.’ The heat is on as the competitors work hard to hear the cheers from the ever-growing crowd. Not to mention, a $1,000 grand prize is at stake.
It is now around 10 P.M., and the crowd starts to grow. The spectators, competitors, and judges evolve from sittin’ on the floor to becomin’ a standing room only audience. Next to the contenders sits a hip-hop legend chillin’ and bobbin’ his head to the beat. He rocks a black and gray Adidas sweatsuit with a slightly more serious look on his face than the dancers. His jacket reads “Harlem” on the back. Unbeknownst to much of the crowd, he is legendary Rock Steady Crew member and breakdance icon Ken Swift, and he is judging the competition.To Swift, ATL is more than a run-of-the-mill competition with dancers showin’ off some funky-fresh acrobatic movements. “Ultimately in the future, we want dope-assed b-boys and b-girls killin’ it on the dance floor,” he says with vigor. “We always knew that the dancing would be very athletic. The battles and pioneers made it into what it became. It’s all about consciousness. Creativity and originality have always been major aspects of any element of hip-hop or so-called hip-hop. This is a positive space for youth culture. We need to maintain and have fun because hip-hop is about havin’ fun.”
The other side of ATL is just as dope. There is another cipher goin’ on with dancers. A film projector airs old footage of international and domestic breakdancing. Some of the footage is grainy while the other montages feature subtitles. There are also display tables featuring nostalgic graphic tees and various styles of Pumas.
Around 11 P.M., the crowd huddles around the winner’s circle. Somehow, the DJ creates a collision course with the theme from Tales from the Crypt and the rhythm track for Chamillionaire’s Grammy Award-winning hit “Ridin’.” A mock battle between dancers wearin’ Obama, McCain, and Bush masks gets the crowd amped. Everyone cheers as “Obama” pops away against “McCain” and “Bush.” The crowd boos and jeers as “McCain” and “Bush” move and dance.
The diverse crowd, with ages ranging from small children to hip-hop elders, is having a good time. A little boy, who really could be no more than about five years old, gets the crowd to pay attention to him. He does the worm with his right leg and pops with the rest of his body. Endless cameras flash while everyone cheers him on. For a second, he becomes the focal point of the competition. Later, he makes it inside of the winner’s circle for a brief performance.
The eight competitors all advance to a sudden death, single-elimination round. Some backspin. Some pop. The picnic table and garbage bin come into play as some choose to jump off the props and even dance on top of the objects. It is a difficult choice, but the winner of the grand prize is simply known as “Jesus.”
To “Jesus,” using the props is an art form in and of itself. He is a lover of “terrain dancing,” or using objects such as stairs, benches, and tables to create signature moves. The humble, genuine artist believes dancing is his choice form of communication that makes him hip-hop. “Hip-hop is passion,” he says with a smile on his face. “It’s what you make it. It’s the way I express myself and how I feel with the environment. I can have a conversation with the music. I didn’t have battling on my mind nor did I have winning on my mind, but it’s who I am. Hip-hop is a social outlook to everyone, and a lifestyle, for sure.”
Before the evening comes to a close, the crowd gets one more surprise. Atlanta’s-own Bone Crusher makes a special appearance and keeps the crowd energetic. Fondling and gyrating his stomach while rockin’ his trademark curly Afro, he performs two songs as well as his debut single, “Never Scared,” as an encore.
Still, the party doesn’t stop. The DJ keeps spinnin’ and the cardboard comes back out as the dancers get back into cipher mode and continue to break as the crowd exits. Guess it is true: hip-hop don’t stop.
According to Swift, preserving the history of hip-hop will ensure its longevity. “We can never forget what dancing is about,” Swift says. “This is a challenge because the event is a brand-new concept. B-boyin’ has never left. It’s been out of the public eye and the media for a while now. The dancing has evolved a lot. I hope we can continue to educate about the history of where this dancing came from so our young scholars and our young masters can take it into the future with a foundation.”
