Tonight, right before the Non-Prophets show, Andy told me that Hunter, a.k.a. DJ Toast, is dead. I hear from a drug overdose. WTF? I’ve known this kid since I was 18 years old. had a party senior year and he just kinda showed up. By Monday, everybody at school was talking about this white rapper (still a novelty in 1992) named Toast.
We ended up in college together, in the same art class. Within a couple weeks, me, Toast and this really cool chick named Margeux were the teacher’s pets. While the rest of the class drew still lives of fruit; the three of us would kick it with our professor discussing Jean Michael Basquiat. The last night of class was a party at the teacher’s studio space and Toast rapped for the class.
He made a mix tape for me back then that I have to this day, called Toast’s Old School Instant Breakfast. Whenever I see that title, I picture Toast on a box of cerael, dressed like Snap, Crackle and Pop. It makes me smile. He turned me on to Ramelzee, The Cold Crush Brothers and TLA Rock. An online reveiw he wrote of an MC Paul Barman album is the only proof I have that anyone other than me listens to MC Paul Barman. I always meant to ask him about that, and now I never will.
Toast was a regular at the open mic jam session at the Red Sea, as was I. He DJ’d and rapped with Sky Bop Fly, which was the house band at this club called Sanctuary that I used to hang out at 2-3 nights a week. Can you believe that I used to go clubs? I can’t. After Sky Bop Fly, Toast joined the Highway Matrons. Ain’t no gig like a Matrons gig cause a Matrons gig don’t stop. They’d play till the bar closed down, then invite half the bar back to their house and play till the sun came up.
I don’t even know how long it’s been since I’ve talked to him. I’m thinking years. I remember running into him on Grand and him telling he liked an article I wrote for Intermission. That would put it at 1999 at the latest. Somewhere there’s some video I shot, the same night the above picture was taken, of me interviewing Sunyatta at the Midtown Arts Center. I made an attempt at humor which she didn’t find too funny. At the time I didn’t even know Toast was within ear shot, but when I watched the footage I saw Toast in the background cracking up at what I said, which made me very happy.
Some Toast lyrics:
Insane Rogaine
To make your hair grow
Daisy Duke shorts
To make your butt show
Mad liposuction
To make the fat go
But if you wanna do it faster
Just be a crack ho
And once your abs get flexed
What’s next?
You could be a super-model
Taking life by the throttle
And once your abs get flexed
What’s next?
Who knows?
You could stop paying money for sex
Fuck.
well, it looks like you must have had another episode of insomnia. I know when you SHOULD have gone to bed, last seeing you at 3:45 am.
I am sorry you had not known about the memorial for Hunter, aka Toast, last Thursday. It would have been deja vu. I saw a lot of people I had not seen in quite a while with some of them having children I had not known that had been born. The memorial was melancholy while not being teary, light and smiles without being jovial.
He would not have had what happened to him if he knew that there would be all those people, perhaps 150, there. There were people from his rap days, people from his rock and roll days, and people he had just met a couple of months ago. There were ex-girlfriends, like Shana there. There were current girlfriends there and I am sure there were girls who would have liked being his girlfriend there. I know there were many more people that had wanted to come to memorialize him if they had only known or lived close enough to.
Fred Friction gave testament to Hunter by wearing black laced bra from the days when he had been upstaged by Hunter when they performed in the Highway Matrons. Fred told some funny stories about Hunter, that might not have been kosher at a regular funeral. But he did NOT tell the story about their last performance when Hunter quit the band, and they pissed all over each other on stage at the Way Out Club, after the last song. I remember that like it was last week, I had just run out of film. Goddamn it!
There were about a dozen people in all that raised a glass to Hunter by saying a few words about him. I said something about him having “stage presence” and being a good audience member loving to watch him perform. I showed pictures of him that I had brought. People lingered about and an impromptu jam session began and I am sure lasted until the park closed down. I left at about 8:30 when people stopped asking me to look at the pictures I had with me.
When I see him now in my mind’s eye, I see him with a big fucking smile on his face, eyes sparkling. See ya Hunter. Thanks Dave for the reminiscence.
What a cool rememberance. I’m sorry about your friend.
Thanks Mike.
Thank you.
Good luck with all the modeling work you got going on, you sassy little minx.
I remember what a vibrant personality he had – real presence. And didn’t he used to tag? Wasn’t there a colorful piece behind the Wabash that said Toast?
Yeah, he was the man.
I don’t remember the piece behind Wabash, unfortunately, but yeah, he was a graffiti artist as well. Kid was mad talented. We had a couple conversations in art class about the evolution of the “Toast Tag.”
Yeah, it is.
Thank you.
The guy could draw too…
Talk about multi-talented. Some night at Marc and Sunyatta’s he took Sarah into his room, and drew a drop dead likeness of her. It was beautiful, and a great pick-up trick.
Thanks dude. It was good to take a break and it’s good to be back.
Empathizing with you and your grief. There’s not any bullshit I’m going to give you. That sucks. Friend of mine is struggling with it, also.
I didn’t know him, but aformentioned friend told me it wasn’t drug overdose.
Yeah, according to the RFT he asphyxiated on gas from some kind of portable grill.