February 9, 1999.Let that day go down in musical history. At approximately 8:30 pm., John Rodney and Rodney Barnett were denied entrance to the Inner Visions hip-hop club for reasons they would never figure out. As the 109th Road Crew, they had played the club the previous August. they thought they were good enough to merit a return engagemnent. But the club's management obviously thought otherwise. Now they were being denied entrance. What was up with that? Rodney: "It wasn't over-crowded or nothin'; we was dressed all right. Them two doormen just wouldn't let us in." To this day, Rodney Barnett contends the management was just tired of us hasslin' them all the time, callin' up and askin' to bust our rhymes out, and put the word out to the door not to let us in no more."

   With nothing else to do, they went back to Rodney Barnett's moms' apartment in Rochdale Village, Jamaica. Rodney's mom who had re-married a man named Robert Cohen, whom Rodney never thought of as a step- father, but maintained cordial relations, were having dinner when the two Rodneys' entered the flat. As they poured themselves some lemonade before retiring to Rodney's room to watch Wrestlemania, Rodney asked "Bubby", as Cohen was called, what was playing on his stereo. "Jerry and the Pacemakers", Cohen replied. Rodney thought it had a nice beat, and though he had never heard of the band or the song, and didn't particularly care for the melody, in "Ferry Cross the Mersey", he recognized something of a kindred spirit in the working-class environment the song depicted. Just like Biggie Smalls, Rodney thought. John Rodney, who called the song on the CD "faggoty" was slower to come around, but after three or four repeat plays on "Bubby's" system, found himself saddened by the sentimental ode to the band's hometown, and to his surprise-surprise, found himself humming the melody. Bubby explained that the Pacemakers were part of the so-called "British-Invasion" of the early 1960's and came from Liverpool, England. The same place as the Beatles.

   "Who's the Beatles?" asked John Rodney. The room fell silent. Even Rodney Barnett had heard the name the Beatles. Afterall, Puff Daddy had made mention of the Fab Four at a Grammy appearance once. But John Rodney, who had no idea there was such a thing as history, had to be told all Rodney Barnett knew about the sixties. It went something like this: "Did you ever see "Platoon" or watch "The Brady Bunch"? That was the sixties." John Rodney did not entirely understand, and would've understood less, had not Bubby took over. Without so much as a word, Bubby went into the hallway closet and pulled out a milk crate full of LP's (Long Playing record discs made of plastic), took out a batch of albums and showed them to the boys. Rodney had seen them once before, when he thought about using them for scratch mixes, but he didn't see anything cool enough. Bubby didn't even have a Brothers Johnson or Earth Wind and Fire joint. But these were strange sights. Eight album covers of photographs and drawings of four long-haired pussy-boys. The first one they looked was particularly hard to take. It was called "Let it Be". Four white homeless-looking mothers. You could keep that weak-ass stuff. Under that one, they saw the same crew crossing what looked like the Nassau side of Jamaica Avenue. That was called "Abbey Road". When they wound up at the last photograph, John Rodney remarked how they finally stopped looking like bums, cleaned up their act, got haircuts and put on some decent suits. "They must've finally made some cash." Bubby didn't tell them that he kept his albums in reverse chronological order, so the Rodnees never did find out the Beatles actual album release order.

   John Rodney pulled the "Please Please Me" LP out of its sleeve and said, "Let's hear this one first." Unfortunaely, Bubby had thrown out his record player two years before, so there was nothing to listen to. He did have "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club Band" on CD, however, and offered it to play it to the guys, but was quickly rebuked by his wife's son: "Man, I don't wanna hear no faggot-shit! I wanna hear what they sounded like when they got their shit together!" They thought about talking to Rachman in the next apartment. He was a house mixer, who had turntables, but the two Rodneys realized it might be embarrassing putting some ridiculous shit on the man's equipment.
It was then they realized down on the third floor, one of their school friends had a father, named Mr. York, who was a blues guitarist. He was someone who might own a turntable, and wouldn't bust them for not being a couple of dopey-dope ass niggas. Also, he had a son, also named Rodney, who seemed to know a little bit about books, and what-not; so he definitely wouldn't rat out the curious duo. Down the stairs they went, and as they hoped, Rodney York was agreeable to them bringing in their albums. In fact, Rodney York, was a fan, and when he saw the boys from upstairs only had "Please Please Me", "Meet the Beatles" and "A Hard Day's Night", he sent them back up to get his personal favorite, "Revolver". Rodney Barnett and John Rodney were excited to know the Beatles were cool enough in the 1960's to create an album with the title of a gun; this was a sure sign of manhood to them. Without hearing a note of their music, they were becoming Beatles-maniacs.

   All that night they listened to the scratchy music on the discs. The three Rodneys, however, had different tastes. John Rodney was partial to the slower melodic numbers such as "Yesterday", "In My Life" and "Here There and
Everywhere". They reminded him of his old neighborhood in St. Albans Queens. Rodney Barnett, on the other hand, liked the more uptempo songs such as "A Hard Day's Night" and "Day Tripper". John Rodney, who was an old-hand, liked it all. In fact, he shocked the boys, when he pulled out his father's guitar, and showed them some blues licks his father taught him. John Rodney and Rodney Barnett agreed it wasn't quite hip-hop, but there was something there they liked. The three of them then agreed not to tell a soul that they actually dug what they were listening to. However, as days and weeks passed, the boys stopped being so self-conscious, and started humming the songs more loudly, occasionally even playing air guitar to the fast becoming familiar chords. At one point, Rodney Barnett picked up Rodney York's father's guitar and was surprised to find how adeptly he could pick out notes that sounded like songs.

   Three months later, the boys were into it but good. Singing songs with the records and sometime unaccompanied, against their resolution, they were a de facto band. Telling his moms' he needed $50 for a coat, Rodney Barnett used the money to buy a bass guitar. Plugging into Mr. York's Vox amplifier, and taking an hour to learn it, York and Barnett played a letter-pertect version of "If I Fell". If the crowd at Inner Visions could hear this, they thought, they, too, would be converted to this unfamiliar, but hype, sound. It was John Rodney, who pour water on the fire, saying their friends would never understand the lyrics to the Beatles songs, and would probably make fun of them. Afterall, who the fuck is "Penny Lane"? Rodney York asked, "What if we write our own songs, which sound like the Beatles, but talk about our lives." The boys looked at each other and the song "On My Block" was born. John Rodney wrote the lyrics, Barnett provided the rhythm and York came up with the melody. After writing a number of songs, the boys determined their grooveless jams could definitely use some pecussive elements. None of them knowing a drummer, they asked around the school. But it turned out drumming was as much a lost art as calligraphy. They were about to give up when Rodney York's father stepped in. He had been fully aware what had been going on with the boys, and thought there was someting positive to be gained by this experience. (Incidentally, he taught the boys some additional chords, which Rodney York credits to the sound of the song "Step off") Mr. York offered to ask a young drummer he had worked with a while back. His name was Chad Wilson; and when the Rodnees hooked up with him, it was like manna from heaven. Not only did he have a drum set and knowledge of music, he kept a home studio in his basement where the boys could record until two a.m. or until the police broke down the door and told them to stop.

   But all was not glory for the boys as it turned out Chad had a drug habit, and in the months that followed, they noticed equipment started to leave the studio, electric bills stopped being paid and money started disappearing from their pockets. By November, 1999, it was time to throw Chad out. Which they did, leaving him in a drug-induced haze in an alley. They took over the studio and gave it a name, calling it 106th Street Road Studios. They recorded the songs "Groovy People, Groovy Places" and "G. Mack Robinson Caldwell" about this time. Whether these songs were directly related to the Chad Wilson episode remains ambiguous. What is clear is that the Rodneys were entering what was to become their most productive period..