In an era of party crews, dance crews, and straight up gangs
That's what my cousin and his friends called themselves
That was their crew
That was their name
That's what they were called
You somehow had to be a part of something
To be important
To be popular
To be known
I could probably still recite a plethora of party crew names
That are now memories to many folks who grew up in the 90s
Milk crates
Stacks of them filled with records
That's what they did
That seemed to be what everyone did
DJ. Dance. Break.
New Jack Swing
Freestyle
Deep House
and
Hip hop
The soundtrack of the times
With a little bit of grunge and Sublime in between
Memories weaved in beats, rhymes, and bass
Syncopating to a time that continues to live on
In the record stacks of djs
In the words of emcees
In the movement of the dancers
In the paint of an artist