For a good time, sit next to the beat-happy, Krishna-crazed love magnet known as MC Yogi as he works his creative magic up in his Northern California studio, Photoshopping all kinds of dazzling personal India travel photos into wild collage art that will serve as backdrop for his “cosmic, electrifying” new shows with one hand, while simultaneously blasting tracks from his latest record, Pilgrimage, with the other.
Do this while Yogi casually spins the hip-hop, zig-zag, indie-flick story of his life to date. Do all this and be charmed, amazed and hooked.
“This record is the soundtrack to my journey to India, circling the sacred mountain Arunachala in the heart of Tamil Nadu, and discovering the intricate root system of yoga,” Yogi says, eyes gleaming, as if casually describing the recipe to a funkified cocktail made of time and incense and God.
“It’s a sonic trip, a journey toward the Self, toward what the yoga masters call the Supreme Soul,” he adds, as chaotic street sounds of India blast through the speakers, mixing with madhouse beats, old-school turntable scratches and oh my Shiva those horns, with Yogi effortlessly rhyming over it all, and all of it so hook-laden and sun-blasted you can’t help bobbing your head and aching to find a dance floor somewhere, preferably one with lots of Nag Champa and chanting.