I have, over the course of my lifetime, seen Coco Rubio hundreds of times – perhaps thousands. I’ve had countless conversations with him and seen his face roll through any number of social media accounts on a daily basis. It’s safe to say I know the man. To borrow an oft-repeated mantra – I know Coco.
And yet, recently, I came across a photograph of him that surprised me – surprised me in both its simplicity and complexity. There was nothing particularly unusual about it – posed but relaxed with a familiar crushed cap on his head. And yet it felt like a version of my friend I had never seen before. Lit beautifully, there was an almost painterly quality to it. It seemed to reveal both the maturity of the man and the youthful exuberance that has allowed him to remain an important downtown fixture. I was transfixed – who was this photographer?
The answer – Drake White.
Portraits under the lens of Drake White. Courtesy Drake White
A deeper dig led me to a talent that not only seems to be a real artist – the kind of photographer whose images can illustrate, illuminate or even obfuscate – all while uncovering some kind of truth. Whether carefully framed images that reduce the everyday to abstraction of his current series of portraits, his work feels like a constant and consistent quest to uncover truth in tiny moments. It’s beautiful and incredible work. There are no immediate plans for an exhibition of White’s work, but I suspect that will not be the case for long. In the meantime, check out his work at drakewhite.studio.
Here’s a few other things that have recently caught my attention:
Two Steps Forward, One Step Back: My Life In the Music Business by Mile A Copeland III:
As a young man, there was no record label I found more reliable than IRS. The willfully independent creation of Miles Copeland – who also managed his brother Stewart’s band The Police – IRS features an incredible list of talent. The Go-Gos, The Bangles, The Cramps, Wall of Voodoo, The Alarm and a little band from Athens called R.E.M. all recorded, at one time or another, on IRS. I interviewed Copeland several years ago about belly dancing – he is nothing if not eclectic – and found him an incredible storyteller. So I was excited to hear what else he might have to say. It turns out he’s something of a musical Zelig, finding success and failure with touring, management, and recording deals that featured not only the aforementioned acts, but countless other famous and infamous performers. Written in a breezy and conversational style, it’s a story so unlikely it just has to be true.
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Montero – Lil Nas X:
It’s easy – too easy – to be dismissive of Lil Nas X. He is, after all, the artist that infected our ears and airways with Old Town Road a couple of years ago. And while catchy, it was the sort of debut most, myself included, filed under Novelty.
But then a funny thing happened. Lil Nas X released Montero. It’s a record that is soulful and eminently danceable. It’s pulls from a diverse pool of influences while remaining very personal and revealing. It’s a record that is about things. It’s about being a gay man in hip hop. It’s about being the product of a fractured family. It’s about the sort of isolation only sudden fame can produce. It’s also, musically speaking, miles ahead of his previous work. Two years ago, Lil Nas X made it easy for the world to be dismissive. Two years later, he is proving us all wrong.
A question:
One of the goals of this column is to broach conversation – sometimes serious (I’m looking at you arena folk) and sometimes a little lighter. On occasion, as sort of a party starter, I’d like to throw out a question that makes us think about how we consume, culturally speaking. Here’s an easy one to start. I’m curious about favorites. How we determine favorites and the complexity, and fluidity, of declaring something a ‘favorite’. Let me pose this question as an example. What is your favorite song by your favorite act? Not your favorite song. That may be completely different. Not your favorite album.
I’ll go first. The Georgio Moroder version of David Bowie’s “Cat People.” Not my favorite song. Not even my favorite Bowie period. But my favorite Bowie song.
I’ve shown you mine now you show me yours.
Steven Uhles has worked as professional journalist in the Augusta area for 22 years, and his Pop Rocks column ran in The Augusta Chronicle for more than 20. He lives in Evans with his wife, two children and a dog named after Hunter Thompson. Steven’s column runs the second and fourth Fridays in The Augusta Press.
