Scraper Bikes is on the Move:

Fresh from Baby Champ comes a new video teaser.
The Scraper Bike King is continually tweeting away the psalm of the scrapers.
In this one you see the clear graduation to a unified team, with matching jacket colors ala the traditional bike club (Black Label, Rat Patrol, Hell's Angels, etc.) and riding formations.
Scraper Bike Movement is growing!

I am still surprised I don't see more wheels in SF scraped out.
I am considerably amazed the hipsters haven't found yet another way to accessorize their bikes.
Scrapin' is super cheap and I bet it will catch on this year with the economy on the gutters and people unafraid to be inventive with less.

I give a loud Holla! to the Trunk Boiz for starting a positive outlet for creative and physical pleasures. And for instigating bike awesomeness in the ghetto. I used to live in West Oakland. It was hard and dangerous, and I was baffled at the attention to bling and namebrands. These kids out causing trouble could be kept entertained for hours scraping out a wheel and then taking it for a spin. Perfecting tricks. Getting hyphy on the Bike. I am so down with that. Instead of gun violence and hate crimes.
In fact, I hope there is a renegade crew of youngn's that takes the bike dance movement to a new level and blows all the rest of the existing teams out of the water. They could raise the bar for the future of bikedancing. I can see it now...



Last year The Derailleurs semi-renegaded the Scraper Bikes for Life Ride to Silence The Violence. Jino brought the soundsystem and we caught the kaleidoscopic clan careening around Lake Merritt. We chased each other in intersection circles. I swear each of those kids with a trike had a sound system. Everyone had fresh paint and matching clothes.
We got to the park and the sound system jammed out while the dj's got set up.
Apparently no one knew we were going to dance. And apparently the sound system for this world famous dj didn't show up either. So with the small amount of politeness, they used Jino Pedalnoise's BOOMIN' speakers and we set up our scraper parasols. Curious kids would walk up to them and marvel some of the designs. They didn't know what to make of these funky white cousins of the Scraper Movement busting in with the biggest sound system to save the day.
The dj really didn't want us to dance even though we were doing him a favor. He turned the music off after the first song. Uhm, excuse me?! Can I get a Hell NO!! Bite the hand that feeds him grumble grumble...



We didn't know what to make of it either. There was a tension on both sides. It's like we didn't speak each others languages. I didn't want to be cliche and I didn't want my inner gangsta to come out in my speaking patterns, for fear of being insulting. But I have been so down since, like, the fifth grade, or something.
Then Harrison come by with his Golden Tallbike and Wick was there with his twin frame and they let the aloofly excited boys try their luck on this extension of heaven. The Derailleurs busted out the Double Dutch ropes and made a communication bridge with the little ones between the people on the other benches and the wacky turquoise ladies in Mad Max mentalities.

We played our show to the quiet audience.
I don't think they knew that it was okay to yell vulgarities and swoon and hiss and cheer. They didn't know what to think of us. They might not have know that they could treat us like they would their own homies and clap and shake off the smile in a nod to the chest.
These kids threw basketballs at us multiple times until Sailor, one of The Brakes, confiscated the ball until the end of the set. He also gave them a good scolding that you can hear on one of the videos.
To be honest, this wasn't our strongest shows. I think it was the third. We were growing. But the kids were being little punks and riding through our show on their bikes. Oh well, make the best of it.



After the show we retired to the trees, waiting for the weirdness to wear off and the food to arrive. After the food there were some amazing acts, with some sistas that were awesome and of course, our chance to see The Scraper Bike song LIVE~! So Exciting. I got on one of the cars parked there so I could get a good view. Started jumping and the owner came by and kicked me off, and handed me a card. It was their manager and he was a great guy. At the end of the night we had a few moments of filming for a new video featuring a 4 year old singin,
"Went from a car to a bike to a scraper bike."
Hollis and I did a synchronized parasol dance and we snuck our way into a 2 second clip in the movie. I'll try to find the video.

Then a grip of kids started possying to east Oakland and away with them went the golden tall bike. We had to appeal to Thee King himself and ask for it's speedy return. We knew it would show up as an object of interest and if he found it, the prize for it's return and the punishment for it's disappearance was a free lesson on how to make a tall bike.
About five days later Harrison got a call and they organized a drop off for the recovered object of desire. But the captor didn't fess up and the lesson was postponed indefinitely.
We should really set up a workshop day where we make a crap ton of mutant bikes for the colorful Oakland kids to scrape out and rock.

While we were waiting in the park for news on the missing bike's whearabouts, this aswesome kid was showing off his bike tricks for us and we showed him a few to practice. We spent a good 45 minutes with him, giving him tips and encouragement. He left and then came back twenty minutes later with a solemn look on his face.
"I just found out that my grandma died 45 minutes ago."
Oh that just crushed us. A few of us went up to him and gave him a big hug. A huge hug. We let him know that it was alright to cry and be sad. It was a heartbreaking moment. It was an honor that he wanted to share the news with us, because we had been with him, giving him positivity, when such a sad thing happened. It was symbolic of the last brick to fall of the frustrating wall that we had been chipping away at all day. The terrible situation brought our differing lifestyles and languages into the same sphere in a unification with the same fate we all face.
My thoughts go out to that sweet, sweet boy.