Battling? On concrete? Ouch.
As hard as it might be for some to fathom, there was a time when b-boy crews got down the hard way. Toprocks, floorrocks, freezes, and later even spins were done on concrete, the only available dance floor freely available to poor, inner New York City youth. Clubs of the seventies, the decade during which b-boying was birthed, catered to the disco lovers. Often, they wouldn’t let b-boys in caps and sneakers in to rock on their floors.
So what else was there? The very streets and sidewalks beneath their feet.
This was good in the sense that any spot in the city was an instant showcase for skills. You wanna battle? “Box!” was all you had to say, and it was on. But not without consequences. “We were getting killed out there!” recalls Joe-Joe Torres, founder of the famed Rock Steady Crew, of the bruising b-boys could get by dancing on concrete. Clothes would get ripped, and shoes would get scuffed, along with hands, faces, shoulders, and backs often scraping the sidewalks on which b-boys performed. The concrete was cruel on skin and spins, and sometimes b-boys would from other boroughs would troop to certain parts of Manhattan, just to get down on sidewalks made of marble.
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But after spins like the buttspin, headspin, kneespin, and the backspin (invented by Joe-Joe) started becoming more and more part of a b-boy’s repertoire-partly because of wanting to outdo others in battles, and partly because of the increased money that could be made by doing harder moves while street performing- dancers realized that something had to be done to keep skin and clothes intact. There was one cheap and easy answer. Cardboard.
“We couldn’t afford linoleum,” says Joe-Joe, “so the next best thing was cardboard.” This cardboard often came in the form of huge diaper boxes, swiped from the backs of grocery stores. “We’d get like two or three of them, cut them open, and they’d be large enough,” remembers Joe-Joe. Although free, it was precious to dancers, who would take care of their cardboard by keeping it out of the rain, folding it correctly, etc. But when the board was worn, they could just get more. Dancers had ready floors, and stores had less trash. A win-win deal for sure.
But the biggest winners were the battlers and street performers. The battlers danced for clout and the street dancers danced for money. Both the stuff of ghetto dreams. With cardboard, more spins could be accomplished to wow the crowds, putting more dollars and coins into the hat the crew would lay on the sidewalk. Cardboard also made it possible to show up the number of your battle opponent’s spins. Two? Three? Four spins? With the right momentum, cardboard could make it happen. A far and welcome cry from the days when you could only spin in a half circle. And if you were really good (and willing to come away with scars) you might be able to pull off a whole rotation as Joe-Joe did the first time he popped his trademark backspin on concrete, all in the spirit of the battle.
“There was this kid named Playboy,” remembers Joe-Joe, “my friend [and former b-boy partner] Jose…he tried to battle Playboy and he got double-teamed and lost. So I went down there, and the first two kids that popped up from [Playboy’s] squad, I took ’em. BOOM! BOOM! And then the next two came out, and before they got through, Playboy came. When Playboy came, he was checking me out. The pressure mounted. That was the first time I popped a backspin on the concrete.” Joe-Joe’s backspin (a new move that no one in Playboy’s crew had ever peeped before) got everyone’s respect. Even Playboy’s.
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But this respect was hard earned. Joe-Joe’s spin ripped his shirt and he was left with a scuffmark on his shoulder. But what does that matter when you’re king of the concrete, and all the other b-boys know it? Nada.
And with the advent of cardboard, Joe-Joe and the other b-boys of his day were able to practice taking spins and other moves as far as their stamina, skill, and control would allow, resulting in new innovations like swipes, slides, and many more. But still, the Rock Steady Against the Grain battle is a good way to show the skill and dedication it took for the original masters to perform on poured sand and rock. It is also the essence of the true meaning of Rock Steady. “The word “Rock” [is for] the concrete…for all the bumps and bruises we sustained while performing,” says Joe-Joe proudly. “And “Steady” is for our love and continuation of the art of b-boying.” Word.
For more info on the Rock Steady Crew’s upcoming 25th Anniversary, check out their website, www.rocksteadycrew.com. To read an in-depth interview with Joe-Joe, check out the July issue of Elemental Magazine.
