Kord Murphy should be enjoying himself right now. Murphy, better known to most rap-metal fans in Dallas-Fort Worth area as Dirty K, should be on the road with his band Pimpadelic, promoting the group's major-label debut, Southern Devils, which Tommy Boy Records released in April. Murphy and Pimpadelic should be enjoying the view from their plush bus as it rolls from Boulder, Colorado, to Omaha, Nebraska, to Lawrence, Kansas--not exactly the high life, but, hey, it beats working a desk job. And, obviously, it's better than being in jail. That's the word around the campfire, anyway.
Murphy, 26, knows the subtle differences between life on the road and life spent in fear of slippery soap all too well. He barely avoided jail time in 1996, when his involvement in a robbery led to a second-degree felony charge and a guilty plea. Fortunately for Murphy, he got off with probation. But thanks to a recent violation of the terms of that sentence, Murphy may find himself behind bars after all, while his band moves on without him.
Which brings us to this: Last week, on its Web site, www.pimpadelic.com, the band announced it's looking for someone to take Murphy's slot on its tour with the Kottonmouth Kings and Corporate Avenger. (The bill hits Deep Ellum Live on July 28.) "We figured what better place to start looking than all the fine pimps and pimpettes who have shown the guys nothing but love," the statement says, explaining the reasoning behind the talent search. "Exactly how long we would need your services is uncertain right now, but chances are you'll be rocking the mike next to Easy Jesus"--Pimpadelic's pint-sized, pig-tailed singer-guitarist--"for at least a few weeks."
The group went on to ask that interested parties should "have your girl, your friend, or your dog video tape you performing your favorite Pimpadelic joints," and send it to Tommy Boy as soon as possible. To which we respond: Don't bother watching any of the tapes, fellas. We've got all that you need right here. Just give us a few seconds to 'splain.
First off, and most important, we're white. White like, say, the "suspicious-looking bag of white powder" Dallas Observer contributor T. Erich Scholz saw Easy Jesus carrying around at Trees during the video shoot for the first single from Southern Devils, "Caught It From Me" ("Get yer ta-ta's out," April 6). (Don't sweat it--we're big fans of Goody's Headache Powder too.) Since you can't be a white-rap act without a white rapper, we'd guess that's pretty damned significant.
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That's right, you heard us; we said damned. There's plenty of other curse words where that came from. Shit, fuck, hell, damn, talent--we know all the dirty words. When it comes right down to it, we curse more than a sailor starring in a Quentin Tarantino-directed, David Mamet-scripted movie, featuring performances by South Park's Trey Parker and Matt Stone and a pre-Nutty Professor Eddie Murphy. When the job calls for dropping lyrics like, "Bitches come around, get a dick in your ass," well, we shouldn't have to connect those dots. You need someone to get freakier than German porn; we are that someone.
Not only that, both of our middle fingers are fully functioning. Perhaps the only drawback is that we actually enjoy hip-hop--the real stuff, not what we've heard on Pimpadelic records. There's a chance that will keep us from stooping to the lyrical lows that appear on all three Pimpadelic albums. But that problem is easily solved: If we haven't developed an intense dislike for anything even remotely connected with hip-hop after a couple of hours on tour with Easy Jesus and crew, not to mention the Kottonmouth Kings and Corporate Avenger, we probably never will.
So, consider that our formal application. For further evidence of our mad skills, be on the lookout for the video we shot last night on top of the Observer headquarters on Commerce Street--shit looks just like "Ice, Ice Baby," yo!--featuring us performing "The Super Bowl Shuffle," made famous by a charismatic young d-lineman named William "Refrigerator" Perry and the 1985 Chicago Bears. ("We're not here to cause no trouble, we're just here to do..." Come on, you know the rest.) If that doesn't convince you, nothing will.
All other applicants should send their tapes and contact info to: Max Nichols, Tommy Boy Music, 902 Broadway 13th Floor, New York, NY, 10010.