After a work-related hiatus, Marko and Willy return to the Manse to discuss some new raps (including one super exclusive George Kush slowed and thowed Riff Raff track) and to bury the hatchet over the Cormega/Jacka issue: it turns out they have so much in common, it makes no sense to pit them against one another. Anyway, they’re already buddies! We discuss the merits of show-not-tell storytelling in rap music, as well as the value of discussing the moral implications of drug dealing, and more importantly we put together two big mixes of the dudes’ work.
Also included: a brief conversation about Riff Raff’s solitude, and approximations of how far away Marko and Willy grew up from Cormega and Jacka, respectively (a note from the fact-checking department: Willy, who tends to be wrong about most things, nailed it on BART fare from 24th and Mission to Pittsburg/Bay Point).
But despite all this, it’s a music heavy episode. Sit back, relax, and let the torment of a life of selling dope wash over you, like a Champale shower. We love you.
Fact/Rumor: A veteran waiter got canned from Roberta’s for fucking up the coursing on Sifton’s tasting menu.
Fact: I once bartended for Sifton without knowing it was him and he was at least sort of a dick to me for not properly describing the champagne to his companion. I had offered up that it was ”good, and of similar quality” to the Roederer that we normally poured, but were out of that night.
He turned to his companion and repeated, in a mocking tone, “You hear that — it’s good, of similar quality to the Roederer.” Right. In front. Of my face. As if I wouldn’t understand that I was being mocked, and/or he didn’t give a shit.
I wasn’t particularly artful with my language — it’s rare that I am — but I’ve dealt with so many idiots serving me food and drink I was a little put off being made fun of this bald guy when I hadn’t, like, used some hilarious malapropism. I later found out who it was and freaked.
I was lucky that my flub (or non-flub) did not work into the argument that Sifton was trying to trying to advance about why the restaurant I was working at sucked. Man I’m glad I don’t work at those places anymore.
Anyway, it’s worth remembering that restaurant critics put waitstaff in a funny position — your actions and words are on record, even though you haven’t agreed to it. Lowly waiters and busboys (even bartenders!) can lose their jobs when Sam Sifton tries to advance an argument about a restaurant or chef or owner. It’s worth remembering that even professional critics, not just Yelpers, might be dicks!