By John Hood
A significant contingent of those who get it sure got it good, damn good; just as those who’ve been gettin’ it steadily have gotten it all along. What did they get? Yeah, you got it. All that and then some. Or as Tom Waits might say: Real Done Gone.
That get-of-gets came about when a core of the crew christened MSG reunited to mark the opening of the arthouse named Vice. An event which at once merged then with now, and promised a world full of wowsome tomorrows.
As anyone with a sense of the streets already well knows, MSG are the epitome of OG; not simply present at the creation of the wow that’s now Wynwood, but largely responsible for making that wow possible. New Times’ Swampdog says that MSG is “a band of spraycan warriors so notorious their crew name rings bells from Budapest to the gates of hell.” And that’s no lie. Then again, when an outlaw outfit’s oeuvre spans two decades and explicitly defines the ferocity of graffiti known as Miami Style, there’s no reason to lie. 
In Vice, MSG found a home worthy of their rep — and their wile. Geographically located at the epicenter of where it all began, yet preternaturally poised to go one step beyond. A place where space is a continuum put into play by a cadre of next frontiersmen steeped in the origins of where we come from. After all, there’s no way to explode right-this-minute, if you don’t know about the Big Bang.
And yes, when MSG hit Vice the Bang was indeed Big, so Big in fact that Vice has decided to let it reverberate another full month. To add to the racket, they’re gonna go live with MSG’s own ABSTRK. That’s right. The show will now be even more telling. Oh, and in case you haven’t yet gotten the gist, rumors of MSG’s demise have been “Greatly Exaggerated.”
