We don't know whether we should give you the short or the long story. So, let's put it like this: from yesteryear to today, we've been a group of kats that talk music. We used to talk it at school lunch tables. We talked it in college dormitories. And we talk -- or write it -- during the day, at work. The discussions assert opinions and offer hypotheses from minds and ears that study and process the music like research professors. For us, music is not just music; but sport, science, sociology and history all rolled into one. It's why a simple question like, "When do you think gangsta-rap was created?", spawned an e-mail string of close to 100 messages that included epiphany after epiphany.

You can't get us together and serve up a music reference or opinion or question and get anything less than an intense three-hour epic of a conversation. We can't e-mail an innocent message, like, "That new Lupe Fiasco is dope," without our inboxes crashing from the deluge of messages with divergent opinions and sensational claims.

So why not pull the shades back and let the world peek in on how we get down.

Now, there are siblings, other close friends and main squeezes that we'll always consult on the subject we tackle each month. These people possess ears we respect and unique perspectives that keep us honest and often enlighten. But in

the end, you'll be reading the product of five dudes that sat in a figurative war room -- after doing extensive knowledge -- and beat some form of a consensus out of the collective. Each member brings something special to the composite Musicologists body. For familiarity sakes, you might want to know a little about the different ears and personalities that comprise the crew.

Uncle Harry: He's the pragmatic axis point. Every crew has the guy or girl that's level-headed, but even moreso, rarely spews an extreme opinion, so that individual builds up a certain amount of trust from their cohorts. Uncle's gotten more opinionated over the years, but he still represents about the Musicologists closest thing resembling a fair median.

Ant-I-Thesis: He's the ultra-emotional traditionalist with a profound love for hip-hop and emceeing. The fact that Thesis offers an antithesis for any Crew tendency toward soft-hearted embracing is a key component to what makes the collective brain tick. But if there is a Nazi in the camp, it's him. Yes, he can get extreme, but that type of passion is infectious.

The Working Class Hero: If there is a divergent view that represents popular opinion, it'll probably come from the Hero. This is essential. His missions are often crusades, but that's needed. Without him, there would always be the very real possibility of the collective assertion being anywhere from insulated to near-vacuum.

Brolic Scholar: He's a wildcard. Maybe the most studious of the Musicologists, too. If he has a unique role within the crew it is born out of his penchant
for opinions and ideas that toggle between reckless and genius. Sometimes he's a loose-cannon, other times he's like a music bookworm.
But the fact he's simeautaneously unpredictable, extreme and ultra-studios is what makes Brolic indispensable.

Music Dude: He's a production-fiend. The beats and instrumentation are more important to Dude than it is to every other member. He's consumed with his notion of "progression", even if it's at the expense -- sometimes -- of traditional tenets. His music palette has, arguably, the most diverse tastes of the Crew and he uses it as a pseudo-informant.

So are we squared, now? We hope so. From here on out we will have much to say. Every month we want to hit you with a submission that will
edify, mystify, notify...all the fys. Check for us.

The Musicologists