Talia's Song Pick-o-the-Week

Do you ever hear or see something- song, a movie, a tv show- and immediately become transfixed with a vivid memory you have attached to that thing? I do, ALL THE TIME! So much, that the people I talk to the most come to expect it.

"What memory does this song drudge up, Talia?" I can't help the way that I think, and because I have such a vast library of very specific memories, I have am able to pull them up with all sorts of triggers. Most often, the trigger is a song.

Today, for instance, I was listening to Left of Center on Sirius, when they played Luchini, by Camp Lo. Upon hearing the song, it immediately transported me to 1997, the year the New York hip hop duo released their album, Uptown Saturday Night, featuring Luchini, when I was in 11th grade. The song's background beat has a loungy retro feel, and compensates for the meaningless, ramblin lyrics. I had no idea what it was about, but I loved the tune, and the "what?" that followed every other line. It was just one of those songs you'd turn up on the car radio, roll down the windows, and bump through the neighborhood.

The specific memory that comes to mind whenever I hear the song is sitting in a large brown Monte Carlo with my friends Adam, who I called Snazzlepuss, and Kwas, who I called Tito. We were in the parking lot of our friend Donny's dad's condo behind Henry VIII strip club, listening to Luchini, while they smoked and Kwas and I giggled incessantly about how "eyeball strings" would hang from our sockets if we poked each other's eyes out! Sure, it might not sound funny right now, but I'm telling you- at the time, it was the funniest shit I had ever contemplated. To this day, that memory ranks among my top giggle-fests of all time. Im talking about laughing so hard and for so long that your cheeks hurt, your eyes water like you're chopping onions, and your stomach muscles feel like you've done 200 crunches. Good times!

So, anyway, my song pick of the week is

Luchini
By: Camp Lo Listen here
This is it (What?!)
Luchini pourin' from the sky
Lets get rich (What?!)
The cheeky vines
The sugar dimes
Cant quit (What?!)
Now pop the cork and steam the vega
And get lit (What?! What?! What?!)

Introducin', phantom of the dark
Walk through my heaven with levitation
From efficient
and these leathers show
boatin with Rugars
Flash vines, Belafonte vigga
Lets get for what it's worth
As we confiscate your figgas

Cassanova brown levitatin jiggy in da shiggy's
In la hotta Car 54 chasin diamond runners
Headin ice bound, where every chilla dime can get
Your Harlem buck strut freezin world hice Hollywood
Madame Butterfly let me in your house of pleasure
From the knuckle swat shadow
boxin catchin black-eye blues

I play the deef (What?!)
Sensations at the Monte Barbie screamin (Cheeba!)
For fillin pleasures at my castles (Blow the smoke out!)
The boss of Vegas substitutes when the Dutch is gone
The Lo don't stop give me shouts Its the season sauters
Souflers for swervin no corners
We magnets to moolah
Livin wit Charlie's Angels hornets
No smilin were slidin
That gets you caught up in the octa
Or deaded for movin
Its just like that as we proceed

Saturday night special better take it lightly Ja-Jiyah
A happy time quest to the coast of Key Largo wire-ah
The chain gang keep your ears out for our years
Sippin' fountain root house of bamboo paradise

is it (What?!)
Luchini pourin' from the sky
Lets get rich (What?!)
The cheeky vines
The sugar dimes
Cant quit (What?!)
Now pop the cork and steam the vega
And get lit (What?!)
This is it (What?!) (What?! What?!)

For these feral herds of seas of black cheese that I can't missa
Silky Days, satin nights taken flights down
We sensation spanish flyin with the lady Scarface
Bottoms up sunshine..
Love Potion Number 9

And we headin from the magic city chessin this sweet
On your orifachiny in London
Relaxation in Bora Bora Got notion to bring it... sing it
Love up in my function
Stonin... robbin
We hiestin merchandise and gunnin
Love it... leave it
But bless the war chief or his bison
Get it... got it
The Lo will forever be nicin

Yeah; the Sonny Cheeba he be sippin Armaretta
The Geechie Gracious he be sippin Armaretta
We float the tri-state drink in this satin vines
This Coolie High jack pack from the sugar shack
Then what we do after we sip the Armaretta
We start the Harlem River quiver
Dig it sweet daddy
Sharpen the crimson blade
High sierra seranade
Anatomy for seduction be this here
Jealousy...

Enter the place with grace
Jersey Armaretta the burstin of clouds
It pours.. everything seems better
Or flats with love we move
Only in the mist
Its Lo its life
And we can't get enough of this

This is it (What?!)
Luchini pourin' from the sky
Lets get rich (What?!)
The cheeky vines; the sugar dimes
Cant quit (What?!)
Now pop the cork and steam the vega
And get lit (What?!)
This is it (What?!)
This is it (What?!)

YeahThe Sonny Cheeba he be sippin Armaretta
The Geechy Gracious he be sippin Armaretta
The Joe King he be sippin Armaretta
The Chaquita Kid he be sippin Armaretta
We got high stakes for mine Kiwa Armaretta
And then my man Ill Will sip Armaretta
And then my man Cab in the tray sippin that
We slide through the Tri-State with the hi-hat
And then I float side-to-side in my Coolie High
And then I peep the sunset with this Spanish Fly
Yeah
And then I float down south with the Boogie Flats
And then I slide up in-between a ziggy
And all of that gibs