by Camille Jackson

It had been 1989 plus the many sweltering summer time on record, and I’d currently dropped in deep love with hip-hop. Through low priced foam headphones I’d taped together, we listened incessantly to MC Lyte, De Los Angeles Soul, Jungle Brothers, KRS-One, third Bass, Salt-N-Pepa, Eric B. & Rakim, over and over repeatedly auto-reversing the cassettes within my Sony Walkman until we knew the buttons by feel and didn’t need to aim to rewind or fast ahead.