Metro Pulse/Music/Eye on the Scene

Do It For the Kids?

If a popular rapper allegedly invites his buddies over for a gang rape and films the whole thing, will there be any ramifications in little ol' Knoxville, Tennessee? Funny you should ask.

Local promoters Yesteryears Music Palace and Set It Off Promotions, who booked Mystikal, Coolio and Petey Pablo for an Aug. 2 "Off the Hook Summer Slam" at Thompson-Boling Arena, were caught off-guard when Mystikal was charged with rape July 18. But they weren't the only ones red-faced. The Greater Knoxville Sports Corporation recently scrapped plans to distribute Summer Slam flyers to Junior Olympics participants, about 1,000 of whom will be registering at the arena from noon to 8 p.m. on Aug. 2. Sports Corp. has also decided not to accept a donation of 9 percent of ticket proceeds from the concert, initially arranged by Thompson-Boling manager Tim Reese, who serves on the Sports Corp. board of directors. Considering the 4,000 to 6,000 Set It Off expects to attend, that's a loss of $10,000 to $19,000, which would have gone towards Junior Olympic expenses.

The show will go on, Reese says. "Canceling the concert would be a liability on [Thompson-Boling's] behalf...because we don't have anything in our contract that deals with [alleged criminal acts] other than when the artists are in our building." He says it would be a different story if Mystikal were convicted. "I don't think we can put ourselves in the situation where we're the judge and jury."

Reese's statements are echoed by those of Yesteryears president John Smaldone and Set It Off's Steve Harris.

Set it Off booked the talent for this joint venture, while Yesteryears arranged venue booking, lighting, catering and other details. The concert date happened to fall during the Junior Olympics, so Reese thought the Slam would tie in nicely. "We were trying to come up with something that folks coming in with AAU could attend while they were here in Knoxville," Reese says.

The Sports Corp.'s Cindy Prince says her organization withdrew its association with the concert once they learned of Mystikal's rape charge.

The rape allegation isn't Mystikal's first brush with the law. In 1998, he was charged with felony weapons possession and a marijuana-related misdemeanor. Then there's the issue of Mystikal's music itself. While his recent releases have been popular with hip hop fans and music critics, they're not exactly what you'd call family friendly: "If you gon' do somethin' then bend over, and bust that pussy open," he raps on the single "Danger (Been So Long)."

Smaldone says he hadn't heard any of the Summer Slam acts or read their lyrics prior to signing contracts with Thompson-Boling and Set it Off. "Well, I don't know a lot about hip hop, I had very little experience [with that]. I was relying a lot on Set it Off promotions," Smaldone says.

Goodbye Sam

Local DJ and music scene booster Mel Holdway remembers back in the mid-'90s lamenting that there were so few places for bands to play. And that no place in town was willing to book all-ages shows and let the under-18 crowd hear some great music. Luckily for Knoxville, the guy she happened to be complaining to was Samir Deeb Dweik, better known as "Sam," owner of Prince Deli and Sports Bar on North Cedar Bluff Road.

"I said, 'Sam, these bands need a place to play,'" Holdway remembers. "He said, 'Book 'em. We'll give them a place to play.'" And for several years, Dweik did just that, creating a haven for loud rock bands—especially hardcore punk, metal and heavy Christian music—and fans alike. Sadly, Dweik died last week from a heart attack. He was 42. He's survived by his wife and two sons.

Holdway says he was "very enthusiastic and bubbly. Every time I saw him he was happy and smiling. He was just a great, greatperson.... He loved the music too. I would watch him and he'd be jamming on it.

"It was a massively important place. It was the only place that booked all-ages shows. He also booked national touring groups," she says. "He was a moving force in this town's scene. It's just a huge loss to everybody who loves music— the bands and the fans and of course his family."

Dweik's wife, Donna, ran the Deli during the day, while Sam took over at night. "He ran his business really personally," Donna says. "He felt accountable for his customers. He made sure they got home safely. He became a friend to all who knew him."

And he liked to encourage the young bands that would play there. "He wanted to give them a place to start and get exposure. He wanted to give them encouragement to follow their dreams," she says. "It really was for the kids. Business-wise it wasn't always profitable. But that wasn't what it was about." For the next month at least, Donna Dweik says she is going to run the Deli just as her husband did. "I'll probably continue to run it until financially I can't," she says. "I'm just running it as if he were here. I'm not changing it or anything."

A Place for Discord

Metro Pulse intern Liz Tapp offers her reflection on the Deli:

Prince's Deli was a smoke-filled room of heads banging, shoulders shaking, loud amps and heavy vocals. Beer bottles breaking in the background, booths were filled with both late-night drinkers and underage hardcore listeners. I always respected the venue for its attempt to provide shows for all ages.

More than one Deli frequenter would be sure to tell you that the Prince crowd was a family, a collective, if anything. Shows were filled with local bands all on a similar curriculum: often Christian-inspired, hardcore, heavy metal, hard rock. That shared curriculum made bands pull together for support, attendance, and collaboration. I felt that feeling of family most when I attended a memorial service after the death of two regular Prince musicians. I watched candles spread their wax across the tabletop as I listened to friends and fans talk over their feelings about the unexpected loss.

Music at the deli was rarely my cup of tea, but in support of or with the company of friends, I would venture to that far side of Knoxville for a brief dip in a discordant, different culture.

—Emma "Space Race" Poptart with Tamar Wilner, Joe Tarr and Liz Tapp