The Hitmakers Behind ‘Like A G6’ Made Videos About Koreatown’s History
December 13, 2014 - bbq set
(From left to right) DJ Virman, Prohgress, Kev Nish and J-Splif of Far East Movement (Photo pleasantness of Far East Movement)
It had been dual years given Far East Movement (best famous for their strike “Like a G6“) returned to Koreatown after a whirlwind general tour. When they got back, they found that their aged stomping drift had transformed. The bars and restaurants they once busy could no longer means to stay open 7 days a week, and some had shuttered and altered hands of ownership. It was in this context that a members of this hip bound and electronic song party motionless to behind to their roots: in late Oct they forsaken an manuscript and dual mini-documentaries (one of them expelled on Wednesday) that compensate loyalty to this place they had called home, looking behind during a history, including a L.A. Riots, that made it.
Their latest EP, KTOWN RIOT, was desirous by their infirm years in a neighborhood. Kev Nish (whose genuine name is Kevin Nishimura), tells LAist that a initial members of his crew, Prohgress (James Roh) and J-Splif (Jae Choung), who are all now 32, initial met in a Koreatown bar when they were teens. (DJ Virman, 31, whose genuine name is Virman Coquia, would after join Far East Movement as their fourth member in 2008.)
“There was this internal bar that would concede youngsters to kind of chill there,” Nish says. “It was unequivocally underground. We would all usually go there. We’d have cliques of friends that would usually accommodate adult in parking lots and usually freestyle and loaf and usually kind of be kids.”
Nish recalls some of a internal hangouts they’d hung out at—from a bar called Vibe that was on Western Avenue circuitously 7th Street (which has given shuttered) to their go-to late night eatery, Hodori (still around!) and Mana for Korean BBQ (Mana has given changed out of a area to Little Tokyo).
Here’s Far East Movement’s song video for “Illest” that facilities footage from Koreatown:
When a guys started behaving and recording music, Nish credits Koreatown for being a initial village that didn’t chuck their flyers on a ground. Before they were Far East Movement, they went by a moniker Emcees Anonymous. They threw their initial uncover during Cafe Bleu, and eventually, they would horde their initial Koreatown village concert, dubbed Movementality, in 2003 with a lineup of opposite artists during a bar called Atlas (now famous as Novel Bar). The line went down a block, a uncover sole out, and a organisation proudly put a income they collected from a opening fees into a potion play and paper bag. They marched a income over to a internal drug rehab core that had helped friends of theirs in a past get behind on their feet and handed a income to a pastor.
“For us, even behind then, we wanted to move opposite forms of song and artists that we reputable and loved,” Nish says. “We wanted to move it to a community. We usually felt that wasn’t function around that time, so we threw a unison and everybody [did it] out of love.”
Even now, Far East Movement says they’re still looking to uplift a community. They threw their annual Spam N Eggs song festival circuitously during a Park Plaza Hotel in Westlake in October, bringing with them a brood of artists, including electronic song writer and DJ Tokimonsta and rapper Dumbfoundead. In and with their EP release, a guys also put out a five-minute documentary in October, called “K-Town Riot Part 1 (Respecting The Past).” They interviewed movers and shakers like Chef Roy Choi (of Kogi BBQ, POT and Chego fame), and who Nish calls “OGs of Koreatown” that enclosed people who lived in Koreatown during a L.A. Riots in 1992. These folks common their harrowing practice from that impulse in history. The video is comprised of aged footage of buildings burning, Koreans and Korean Americans holding rifles on rooftops like snipers safeguarding their businesses while they were removing looted, and photos of those lives who mislaid their lives in a melee:
Prohgress was in class propagandize during a time of a riots and lived on Crenshaw Boulevard, right in a thick of it all. Prohgress told Nish he remembers his family pronounced they couldn’t go home to Koreatown, and they all had to expostulate to a relative’s residence in Orange County to get divided from it all. “All a remains were all over their window defense as if they were snow,” Nish says. “His relatives were usually vital in fear, not meaningful what was going to happen.”
Prohgress’ father was a radio horde during Radio Korea during a riots. (He is still on atmosphere today, Nish says.) At a time, listening to Radio Korea was a usually approach Koreans who didn’t listen to English-language radio were means to get information about what was going on in in a streets, according to Nish. They were means to get news on what areas to equivocate and find out information about their businesses that were removing looted and set on fire.
“It was usually so engaging to me [because] it felt like a approach a village was handling was like [they were in] a war,” Nish says.
This all explains how they got a name of their album, KTOWN RIOT. “The riots is an idea—especially people from a aged school—people that unequivocally paved a approach had all left through. And [it’s] something that always stranded with them. If we could redefine that and move some positivity toward something like that, that could be unequivocally cool.”
They have so most footage and available interviews that they used it to put out a second mini-documentary, that expelled this week. It focuses on a expansion of Koreatown adult to today:
Nish has beheld some new certain changes in a Koreatown community, with a further of The Line hotel and some-more eateries and bars entrance into town. He describes Koreatown as always being “fairly underground,” and not as welcoming to other cultures in a past. Nish is Chinese and Japanese-American, though he says he fit in Koreatown when he was younger since his organisation of friends were all of Korean descent.
Nish says, “You go to restaurants now and it’s 50 percent Asian and 50 percent any other ethnicity and that’s usually positive. It’s something we’d substantially always wished for. It’s cold to see.”