Hangin' in the W.C. with Eek-a-Mouse

Eek-A-Mouse and The Eekanomics Band
Friday, January 30, 2004

The Chop Suey, Seattle, Washington
Saturday, January 31, 2004

Dantes, Portland, Oregon
"We No Like Dat" by Valeria Valiente

Baddy Baddy Mem Mem,
Me hangin in the W.C. with some mean men.
Mean and shady, they love the ladies
and I had to teach them-em,
That we no like dat, no we no like dat,
We da beganin and da end
And you crazy to act so improvident
No we no like dat, you rash man
De men take advantage of da women
Cuz of our sex ex. Oh our sex-ex
Forget dat we are da Mam yes
We da queens yes bing bing yes
So dont forget then you naughty man
No we no like dat, no we no like dat.

Those lyrics are my inspired rant against sexual exploitation in the backstage area of concerts and shows. Wait; let me take a step back, for I am jumping onto the exploitation bandwagon a bit too early. Let me start from the beganin.

I wrote these lyrics in the "sing-jaying/toasting/bingy boingy" style as done by the reggae master Eek-a-Mouse. Creating popular catchphrases such as "Biddy Biddy Beng Beng", "How are you feeling tonight?", "What are you smoking tonight?", and "Rude Boy Jamaican", the gigantic Jamaican born superstar carries plenty of weight and influence. He is physically, professionally and creatively, a powerful man who refers to himself in the third person (or rodent, in this case), for he is "The Mouse."

I met Jalawel, The Mouses tour manager, in the back of the Asian-themed music venue, The Chop Suey, located in the Capitol Hill neighborhood of Seattle, Washington. Jalawel kindly granted my request for an impromptu interview after I gushed about the stellar outdoor performance by Eek-a-Mouse on a gorgeous Sunday night at the 2003 Bumbershoot Festival at the Seattle Center last September. Jalawel loaded me with drink tickets and the advantageous "artist wristband."

As soon as I walked into the backstage green room, I knew I had fallen into dangerous territory. The Mouse immediately took a liking to my backside and made no ammends about telling me so.

I have been to many backstage and VIP areas in my lifetime. Being a Los Angeles native with music clubs as my playground, and having the tenacity and bravery to gain possession of the coveted backstage pass whenever possible, I understand that part of the excitement of this area is sexual tension and debauchery. That being said, I will put it on the record that I am not, nor ever will be, a groupie. A groupie is a term used for a person who hangs onto musicians, seeking autographs, sex, and a good story to share with friends about a hedonistic night of meeting their idols.
[BB]
I do love to recount my tales, but never has sex ever been part of my backstage experience. See, there are two simple facts about myself that bears repeating: I am not a groupie nor do I desire to sleep with my favorite band mates or interviewees. I love going backstage so that I may share my expressive opinions of awe and appreciation of great music. I want to thank my music mentors for their originality, touching lyrics, and if possible, ask them questions to further my understanding and love of their music. The way I see it, it is about the music. Therefore, it really chaps my hide when sex is thrown into the equation and I am not taken seriously as a music lover. I will tell you this much; if I were a man in the same position, sex would not be an issue. I would be seen as a music lover and journalist. Nothing more, nothing less.

I gracefully and expertly baited the Mouses brash remarks with quips of my own that stunned the rodent and his entourage. See, rats and mice are no match for the feline power of a woman on a mission. I had an interview to complete and so I went to work. I set up an 8 AM breakfast interview with the Mouse and his stage manager Ben before show time. I thanked them for their time and went to the front of the stage to photograph and review the show. Thanks to the rabid energy of some of the fans at the show, I was unable to do either.

When I gave a homeless woman $10 outside the venue, the group behind me in line offered to buy me drinks since I gave away my beer money. Once inside, one of these men reneged on his offer. Okey-dokey, no problem- I'm working anyways. Then, this cheapskate liar attempted to take over the front area of the floor. Over 6 feet tall with flailing arms and heavy foot stomps, this man proceeded to shut out all the other fans around him with his fanatic possession of the coveted first row viewing. A group of tough cookies surrounded him and eventually we were able to move his rude butt a few feet towards center so we could see the show. I am happy to report that this loutish giant got himself kicked out by the middle of his show. It does not pay to be an uncool, aggressive, and selfish fanatic at any concert, my friends. I dont care how much you love a band; please, if you are over six feet tall, dont try to stand in the very front row.

The Mouse and The Eekanomics band regaled the hot swaying crowd with tights beats, killer bass lines, two keyboard players and seriously uplifting guitar riffs. Eek-a-Mouse has over 20 years experience performing to earnest and party-hearty crowds. His fan base spans the musical spectrum, from the hippie reggae fans to the fratboy rock scene. Lyrics to songs such as "Assassinator", "Operation Eradication", "Do You Remember", and "Ganja Smuggling", speak of social ills such as slavery, racism, and murder.

His most popular songs at the Friday night show in Seattle and the Saturday night show in Portland were those in which he unleashed his maniac and incomprehensible skatting in rapid pace, driving the crowds wild. The band and the Mouse played 2-hour (or longer) sets each night. I was bombarded with stony fans trying to bestow ganja joints upon the Mouse every time his baritone voice egged them with the falling crescendo question, "Wat are You Smoookin' Tonight?"

A combination of the inevitable "contact high," free drink tickets, and complimentary Heinekens in the dressing room left this journalist too bloody sloshed for driving Friday night. Thanks to the lovely kindness of two cool women I had danced with that night, I was able to sober up at a friends house. Ben, the tour manager, asked if I would like to join the band for some more partying at their hotel, which I nattily declined, knowing well enough, drunk or stone cold sober, that a single woman alone hanging with a roomful of touring bandmates is not a good idea.

Our party posse crossed Lake Washington to Bellevue, a world away from the sweaty night we endured. We hung out with members of the band Three Degrees West, sweet and fun local boys who tickled my heart by singing nostalgic Sublime songs. As the night wore on and the buzz wore off, I inquired about a ride back to the other side of the lake to make my 8 AM interview breakfast appointment. Belatedly, I learned that no one in my new posse would be returning to the city any time that day. Left with an expensive taxi option or the dreaded bus, I was giving up hope of any journalistic recognition. Then the most satirical thing happened.

At 4:20 AM, my cell phone rings. Strange, I think, but I did pass my business cards out all night. I answer the phone and its the Mouse. He asks me if we can do the interview- he is ready to talk now. He asks me to meet him in Room 420, his hotel room for the night. For those of you who do not understand the outrageous coincidence of this reference, 420 is a code word amongst the more irie people in the world for a good time.

I just cannot shake the giggles from the synchronicity of madness and mayhem I am feeling now. Of course, I decline but after ten more minutes of pleading for a ride and getting nowhere, I decide to take a chance and take a free taxi ride into the city. I knew it was risky business; I had two new girlfriends warning me of possibly unpleasant, but not to be confused as unexpected, encounters that might be attached to the offered ride, but my intuition told me to go forward into the unknown.

Eek-a-Mouse surprised me with his restraint and kindness. He spent the next three hours sharing his personal woes- ones that I will not repeat in this article or anywhere else. He, of course, shared his confession of attraction, but kept repeating that he found a woman like me intriguing. Fearless, a bit insecure but strong, he flattered me with these complimentary observations. They dont call me Valeria Valiente for nothing! I sat there listening and more often, trying to decipher the meaning hidden behind his thick Jamaican patois and biddy-benging.
[BB]
I swear, the man speaks the way he sings! My good listening skills proved invaluable that night and Eek treated me respectfully and kindly as we talked on about expectations and stereotypes in the music industry, reggae music, his family, and touring. Overall, my time with the Mouse in his hotel room was a mix of professional and personal discussion with no sex involved. That is what I expected and that is what I got. Thanks, Mouse.

We did have one unpleasant encounter. A female friend of his came over around 6 AM, and she was not too happy to see me there with the Mouse. She assumed that the Mouse and I slept together, as did Jalawel the next day, but its a sad sexist misrepresentation of the female music lover as a "groupie." She ignored my attempts of friendliness and I gave up trying to bridge the sexist blinders covering her eyes.

I left the hotel with a promise that I would go down to Portland to do the "real" interview and see another great show. I took a male friend with me and we made it in time to see the last three songs of the opening touring band, The Expendables. At both shows, the Expendable guys shared feelings of insecurity about their reception by the Eekster fans.

I personally thought that they should focus more on tightening their sound and less on what others think. As Ben told them outright, "Theres a reason why you are touring as our opening band." That is compliment enough to keep any band focused on their goal. It is a smart move on their managements part to have the same booking agent as one of the greatest reggae performers out there. The Expendables were professional and on top of their game when it came to marketing their music and merchandise. It was a pleasure to see them at work- and work, they did- throughout the tour.

Eek put on another great show that night at Dantes in Portland. We had a great time dancing once we escaped from the competitive and ugly front row action. Backstage, we enjoyed good food, good laughs, and cleared up some facts. Jalawel acted disappointed when he saw me, sharing his disbelief that I would spend the night with the Mouse. Of course, I reminded him that was'nt my style and he happily hugged me and called me his goddaughter. On a personal level, I enjoyed the term of endearment, but I left the whole experience feeling disappointed by the chauvinistic attitudes of both men and women when it comes to the fine line of appreciation and exploitation of women in the music industry. Things are changing;

I did survive 48 hours of partying unscathed, untouched, and came out with my reputation intact. But it is a sad world when a woman like myself has her reputation tied to her sex and sexuality when I perform a professional service as a journalist. I do not wear a sign that says "I am a backstage prostitute" or "I love your music: Exploit me Now!"

To all of you who work in the music industry, whether you are the hungry musician with dreams of unlimited sex with beautiful women after your shows, to the managers who organize the festivities during tours, and everyone else in between: We are responsible for our actions and intentions. There is nothing

wrong with wanting sex and having fun, but there is a fine line between respect and sexist expectations. It is is unnecessary and unfair to cross that line. Dont forget that women are creators and we do not want to be treated as a sexual object for you to enjoy as a backstage perk. Got it?

Peace to all of you. Spread positive loving vibrations through music.

Cheers, Valeria Valiente

Other Eek-a-Mouse Facts

Been in Business: As Ripton Joseph Hylton, The Mouses birth name, since the mid-70s. As Eek-a-Mouse since 1980.

Hailing from: Trench Town ghetto, Kingston, Jamaica, 1957.

Radio or record store section: Reggae

Current Label: Sanctuary.

Past labels include Shanachie Entertainment, Greensleeves, Coach House Records, RAS Records, Sunset Blvd., Island, Sunsplash Records, and Thompson Sounds.

Discography: Mouse Gone Wild, due March 23, 2004.

Starting with the latest to the oldest, Mouses 20+ years as a hit making reggae star include:

The Very Best Of-Vol.2, Greensleeves Wa-Do-Dem, Eeksperience, RAS Portraits, Black Cowboy, U-Neek, Eek-A-Nomics, Mouse-A-Mania, The Very Best of, The King and I, Live at Reggae Sunsplash, Mouseketeer, The Assassinator, The Mouse and The Man, Skidip!, Wa-Do-Dem, Bubble UpYu Hip.

Loves: "I luv ma age." He must have told me that over 20 times. He loves his children. He wants to be in control and to be controlled. He loves to love the women.

The newest news in the Mouse Hole: Eek-a-Mouses newest album, Mouse Gone Wild, comes out March 23, 2004 on Sanctuary records. Eek-a-Mouse rolling papers will be available for all you tobacco smokers from http://www.cafeshops.com/damouse .

The Mouse will be touring to the following U.S. venues in March 2004:

Thurs., March 11 S.O.B.'s, New York, N.Y.
Sat., March 13 Red Fox Inn, Bondville, V.T.
Sun., March 14 Big Easy, Portland, ME
Mon., March 15 Milky Way Lounge and Lanes, Jamaica Plain, MA
Tues., March 16 Castaways, Ithaca, NY
Wed., March 17 Funk Box, Baltimore, MD
Thurs., March 18 Stella Blue, Asheville, NC
Fri., March 19 Little Brother's, Columbus, OH
Sun., March 21 Pearl Street NightclubBallroom, Northampton, MA
Fri., March 26 The Coachhouse, San Juan Capistrano, CA
Sat., March 27 Canes, San Diego, CA

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