Golf Wang: Odd future meets chicks with jeans and no pockets: one thing I've learned from touring with Odd Future is that the most unpredictable things emerge out of nowhere. I can be selling shirts one moment, then two seconds later I'm in the photo pit of a Dipset show losing my shit to "Bout It Bout It Pt 3." From LA to NY to London, Golf Wang is guaranteed to get anything TU.
INITIALLY, I thought Tempe was far from the ideal location to kick off a month-long tour. But seeing the amount of crazed, adrenaline-ridden kids that went nuts at the show and at the pop-up shop definitely changed my mind. When we opened up the shop in Tempe, it seemed like the whole town was there. A band played a cover of "Radicals" on the roof of the shop, and there were kids fighting over shirts and skating all over the place. It was like the city was OF brainwashed. The show was even crazier than the last time: Kids leaving with broken noses, missing teeth, and all of them with a new OF shirt-turned blood rag.
NEXT WE HEADED to the snowy college town of Boulder, CO. We decided to check out frat row, and the college party scene we'd gotten a taste of last time. It was after we'd jumped in and out of a few houses that a few drunken frat dudes decided to follow us. They ignored many warnings to find another group of rappers to follow, and we were over it. All of a sudden, I saw Dorns pack out one of them. The guy flew back a couple feet--time for him to go home. We jumped in the car ready to leave, but a group of six more bros came up behind us. Everyone jumped out of the car. No shit being talked, just hands ready to be caught. The scene turned into all of OF chasing a bunch of frat nerds up the street, shoes flying off their feet. One of them yelled out, "I didn't know it was all of them!"
BRAD KICKED a 51-yard field goal while in his boxers.
TORONTO is a rad place. The best thing about it is that you can use American money there. Didn't have to trip off no stupid-ass currency exchange and shit. This time around, there were posters of my face everywhere. I was trippin' when I saw that shit. Like, "What the fuck yo, that is my face!" The pop-up shop there was nuts as well. The line wrapped around the block; kids were stoked. This was also the first time that any of us had actually seen a physical copy of the album. It was so awesome. I was interviewed by Damian from Fucked Up for some random shit; I forget what. Some bitch had me sign the hood of her car. I still don't get that. Me and our security guard Vill ate some badass burritos...in Canada.
MY LOVE/HATE relationship with Miami: Last time there was rad as fuck. This time, not so much. Some bitch stole my phone from the merch booth so I went on an angry rampage through the crowd, trying to get it back. I got to the point where I'd lost hope and resorted to headwalking out of my own stupid teen angst. On the plus side, I got to kick it with my man Jay Koopz and did some hood rat shit on South Beach.
THE MOST EPIC part of this tour was New York. My love for the Empire State grows every time I visit. An old homie of ours had come back from a long vacation. I got to see him for the first time in almost two years here. Met up with Ty and Black Dave and skated around from 8:00 pm until 4:00 am. That's one of the things I love most about NY: You can skate around until whenever and not feel too sketched out. In LA, pretty much any place other than Hollywood feels dead and weird after midnight. Being able to skate up and down the streets, skitch on taxis, do whatever, and feel free is the greatest thing.
THE SHOP we opened in NY was amazing. It opened the day the record (OF Tape Vol 2) dropped, and kids were loving it. The show we played later on that night was one of the most memorable OF shows to date. All of OF was there. Some guys flew out from LA just for that show. The downside was waking up the next morning with the most fucked food poisoning ever. I puked everywhere and on everything. It was siiiiiick.
IT DIDN'T even hit me that I was taking a trip to England until we landed there. London is a place I've always dreamt of going to, and it lived up to my expectations. The candy, the people; everything was so foreign and British and weird to me. I loved it. Got some awesome pancakes, and the show was rad. I do have to admit though, I can't really fuck with Europe food-wise. I ate McDonald's and Subway every day.
ONE OF THE raddest parts of Europe, other than London, was Dublin. I didn't think the show out there was gonna be too wild, but I was 100-precent proved wrong as fuck. Irish people are crazy. They hung Irish flags with the donut drawn on it and just gave no fucks during the show. It was also the last night of the European version of the tour. I didn't have to sell merch, and got my own skybox in the venue to watch. I was tired, worn out, and beat the fuck up, and just wanted to chill. I had a fat-ass bag of Doritos and a bunch of Redbull. The show was coming to an end and people were beginning to un-wind. I wasn't paying too much attention until I heard the beat for "50" by Mellowhype drop. Then it hit me: This was the last night of tour, I was a little ticked off from not getting enough sleep, and I was stoked as fuck to go home the next day... So I lost it. I threw this huge bag of Doritos all over the crowd, threw the Redbull, I dove off the balcony, got choked out by a security guard, dragged out by another, and almost got kicked out of the venue, until our tour manager Brick Stowell came through and told homebois what's Gucci.
THE NEXT DAY I almost off'd myself. I'd never had a flight delayed for more than an hour, let alone five. I almost snapped. I can't fuck with airports in Europe and not having phone service and all my other little diva shit that I'm used to in the great USA. On the plus side, I got unintentionally bumped up to First Class and got to sleep on the flight home. Landed in the US and wanted to kiss the ground, I was so happy to be back.
COUPLE THINGS I learned from this tour: There are undercover feds everywhere, a lot of meth heads in Arizona, US>EUR, and never trust a chick wearing jeans with no pockets.
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|Date:||Jul 1, 2012|
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