RIP Titus Glover (Baatin): 1974-2009
Came back from a weekend on the East Arm of Great Slave Lake, camped out in Pauline Bay, with my body now completely immune to sandfly and mosquito bites, and with about 15 cuts off all kinds on each of my fingers, my feet and legs.
It was great to finally get out there after summers of schedule conflicts keeping me in the city. I hadn't been out there since I was a wee lad and it's something I've got to do again. We fished all day Saturday, and while General Sherman stayed at bay, our boat did manage to haul about 20 or so lake trout -- ranging in size from about 8 to 19lbs. Unfortunately, our companion ship got skunked.
Highlights: Felch's new Harry Potter scar caused by rifle recoil and BS's spontaneous Michael Jackson appreciation rant.
The trip was direly needed, and I once again found it odd that I've lived in Yellowknife most of my life, and still there is so much this place offers that I haven't experienced. Like ripping through Devil's Channel and checking out an old exploration camp (where I finagled a MacDonald Export tobacco tin that's got to be at least 40 years old.)
It was a nice -- albeit, short -- detox from the everyday.
However, the return brought with it some sad news. Another founding member of Slum Village was found dead Sunday.
Baatin -- the nasally, off-the-wall, spiritual sage of the group -- died in Detroit at 35.
That means two of SV's original members - J Dilla and Baatin -- have now passed.
I first became familiar with the group when I picked up Fantastic Vol. 2 on a whim at a used CD shop in Calgary. When I first put it on, I fell in love but it took me a while to realize why - a lot of the lyrics were non-sensical, there's nothing that jumps out at you. But that's why it was so refreshing. It didn't sound like anything else and didn't try to be anything other than what it was, which was purely pure. The beats were hypnotic and soothing and the flow -- which I have to confess I enjoy more than even the greatest lyric -- was always perfectly suited to the track Dilla laid down. These guys used their voices and their words like they were just another layer on the track, like another instrument.
Baatin was the so-called crazy member of the group. He always had a different angle, an out-of-this-world perspective, CRAZY FLOW and he wasn't afraid to say anything. When reading about the making of Fantastic Vol. 2, I remember hearing stories about how on the track 'Get dis money,' T3 and Dilla had to try like hell to get Baatin to rap about the track's subject, but he kept going off on crazy tangents about reincarnation and things of that nature. If you listen to the track now, it sounds like they pieced together two different tracks for his verse.
Baatin was with the group for the next album - Trinity - and appeared on Detroit Deli but left the group after reportedly becoming sick of touring. He fell on some dark days following his departure, spiraling into drug addiction and later being diagnosed with schizophrenia. At this time, he fought unsuccessfully to rejoin the group he helped start. According to reports, he then lived homeless for around a year, but cleaned his act up, released a solo album and reunited with Slum Village, for an album that will be coming out this September.
Baatin's got the third verse: Conversations with the most high makes me wanna cry/ I wonder why/ you wanna get to paradise but that itty, bitty part of you don't wanna die
Baatin's got the last verse. This is from the Trinity album.
Baatin's got the last verse: Ecstasy/ callin' you, callin' me/ I know your hubby ain't givin' you no action/ well for one, he's too damn masculine/ he needs to take some lessons on givin you a climax
Slum Village's music accompanied many firsts in my life and to this day, Fantastic Vol. 2 is one of the only albums that - no matter how lousy I may feel - I can put it on and immediately become happy.
Now, at least for the time being, I feel sad listening to it.
