Requiem For A B-Boy

I started this on April 4th (the 40th year recognition of Dr. Martin Luther King JR’s assassination) and around this time I would normally write some euphuistic ode on how Dr. King’s words and image is so often taken out of context in a disingenuous manner by those utilizing them for ulterior motives that have little to do with King’s complex vision. But last evening I got news of the passing of Wayne “Frosty Freeze” Frost an incomparable member of the NYC B-Boy crew, Rock Steady Crew, and this caused me to reflect in a much different manner.

Like any cultural changing movement some names transcend the movement as King did in the American Civil Rights Movement, and the B-boy movement is no different. Names like Crazy Legs and Ken Swift can usually be thrown out by a pedestrian observer of the culture. But Frosty Freeze was more like those who marched and held up the signs that produced the ground swell of people power that allowed King the ability to be heard and affect change. Although Hip-Hop culture and the Civil Rights movement are far from transparent they both have had a profound affect on the intersection of race, class, and social interaction in the last half of the 20th century, and Hip-hop continues to inform the early part of the 21st century. Frosty Freeze’s importance in Hip-Hop culture was equally as influential and profound as not only the foot soldiers in the Civil Rights movement, but those lesser known organizers (Bayard Rustin, Fred Shuttlesworth) who were equally as visionary as King.

Quiet as kept if it were not for cats like Frosty rolling with Crazy Legs B-Boying may have been erased as an element altogether in the late 70’s. It was through the commitment and dedication to the culture of B-boys like Frosty that when the original cotangent of B-Boys were moving in other directions with their lives this second generation of B-boys not only resuscitated the art but proved to be innovators as well. Not only did the dance survive but Frosty and this second generation of B-Boys became international stars appearing in movies and on television throughout the world in the early to mid 80’s. They were integral in laying the foundation for the international appeal of the culture.

To me Frosty represents all the people who came out to Kool Herc’s building parties at 1520 Sedgwick Ave in the Bronx, which soon grew into people filling up near by Cedar Park that then turned into jams in parks all over NYC, onto the clubs, and eventually the world. Frosty represents not only those who filled up the parks back in the day but those who continue to embrace the entirety of the culture (meaning the four original elements as laid down by Afrika Bambatta-Writing, DJing, B-Boying, and Emceeing). Frosty represents the B-Boys who do if strictly for the love. The ones who do it for the thrill of those fleeting moments when your in the middle of the circle and the crowd is yelling and clapping with anticipation of your every move, and the beat pulsating through your body as you wreck the floor commanding the respect of all in attendance. That is who and what Frosty represents to me.

Unfortunately large portions of Hip-Hop culture have become mired in the decadence and hedonism of the age. Fortunately there are still gyms and small venues where DJ’s throw down playing classic break beats, and B-boys rule the floor. There is still Zulu Anniversary parties where you can still smell the original incarnation of the culture. Although many scenes like this may be difficult to find they are out there, and it is there where the spirit of Frosty Freeze, and true Hip-Hop culture will always live.
“…keep rockin don’t stop it, keep rocking don’t stop…”