I hate drinking beer out of a plastic cup‚ and at five bucks a pop‚ I’m never going to get my drink on. Welcome to Club Townsend, this year’s venue for the DMC/TECHNICS 2001 U.S. CHAMPIONSHIPS.

Deejays from all across America and the U.S. territories converged upon the Sucka Free City to throw down and battle it out for the American crown. When the sonic barrage ended, it was Atlanta’s DJ Klever who reigned supreme with Presyce, and Infamous rounding out second and third place, respectively. Next month, Klever will go on to represent the U.S. at the World Finals in London.

Overall, the battle was cool‚ all the competitors displayed mad skills and blah, blah, blah, etc., etc., etc‚ but what really blew me away was the club’s security. Those fools had it locked down like maximum security and you weren't getting away with shit. No cameras, no guns, no bottles, no in/out, no loitering, no smoking, and no smoking. They repeatedly checked pockets, hoods, hats, and cigarettes‚ “fools be trippin!”

Gestapo tactics aside, San Francisco's nightlife is just starting to revive itself after the dot.com beating and such drastic measures are probably needed to insure the club’s survival. Either that, or they thought a "DJ Battle" hosted by Ice-T might erupt into cop killing violence—none of which matters to someone like me just trying to keep a good buzz going.

How anybody can handle three hours plus of back-to-back showcase battling without a steady intake of booze or weed is beyond me, and judging from the sedated crowd, I don’t think I was alone. Up front by the stage, you had all the heads that were hyped for the battle, but the rest of the club was littered with fat-neck yuppies and anorexic glitter models awkwardly trying to get their groove on. Even the bouncers were disgusted with the overabundance of "Mariah Carey wannabes." That’s what happens when you make a hip-hop event 21 and over: NO FUN. Promoters need to realize that hip-hop is a party thing, and without the kids, there’s no inspiration.

The night did have its moments though. Rocky Rock threw down an ill set that was funky as hell and DJ Abilities’s record selection proved that hip-hop still has an open mind and ear—and that crate digging is alive and well in this era of breakbeats. Featured performances by Roc Raida, Total Eclipse, DJ Craze, A-Trak, and DJ Swamp blew minds as well as equipment, and host Ice-T was definitely the pimp of the night.

The O.G. cracked jokes and clowned just about everyone who tried to step up—including the deejays. His comments about A-Trak being "the kind of [guy] who couldn't make it out of the bathroom at a hip-hop show," and DJ Swamp as a "creepy motherfucker that wouldn’t look me in the eye" summed up Ice-T’s don’t give a fuck attitude, making him the best host DMC ever had—especially when compared to the garbled gibberish that spewed from DMC founder Tony Prince’s mush-mouth. In addition to gracing the stage with his pimp presence, Ice-T also showed genuine interest and respect for all the competing deejays and their skills.

Although there was no official DMC after-party, a very select few were treated to an amazing performance by Ireland’s own DJ Tu Ki. The Dublin deejay came correct, calling out club security, molesting cops, and finally getting into a brawl at a nearby liquor store while attempting to buy a single can of Guinness with the rest of the six-pack in his jacket.

Hip-hop lives!