Photo by G.W. Miller III.
The JUMP Off
Soaring In SW Philly Kiara McKnight hangs with The Astronauts, whose name honors Guy Bluford, the nation's first African-American in space.
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he tan colored house on 66th street looks like every other rowhome on this quiet Southwest Philadelphia block. Then the front door swings open and out walks Steve “Pace-O Beats” Ferguson, clad in a red Sheridan Generals sweatshirt, black skinny jeans and red Vans to match. He sits on the steps outside, embracing the warm spring day while waiting for his partner, Lamont “Mont” Brown. After 20 minutes, Mont arrives, fresh from work in his dark blue U.S. Airways uniform, and they make their way to the room where all of The Astronauts’ songs are born.
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ont Brown and Pace-O Beats came together in 2009 to form The Astronauts, a rapper/producer combination that creates danceable music but also encourages their fans to be themselves no matter what other people say. “If you stay true to what you do and stay focused, anything can happen,” Mont says. “That’s why we’re The Astronauts. Because anything you want to do in life, you can do it. Look at Guy Bluford.” The duo’s moniker pays homage to Guion “Guy” Bluford, the first black astronaut to enter into space in 1983. Bluford, a West Philadelphia native, attended Overbrook High School. He was told by a guidance counselor that he was not college material and should take up a trade instead. Unlike many African-American men who were given the same advice at the time, Bluford ignored it and went on to earn his bachelor’s degree in Aerospace Engineering at Penn State University, a Ph.D in Aerospace Engineering from the Air Force Institute of Technology and a masters degree in business administration from the University of Houston-Clear Lake. “The Astronauts is a metaphor meaning you can do whatever you want,” says Pace-O. 18
READY FOR TAKEOFF: Pace-O Beats (top) and Mont Brown at 66th and Elmwood. “Because who would’ve thought the first black astronaut would be from West Philly?”
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ace-O sits down at a marble-top dinner table, in his makeshift recording studio – a Macbook Pro covered in skateboard
stickers, and to a 26-inch monitor with speakers stacked up on each side. He plays a beat he came up with the night before. As the bass kicks in, Mont energetically bobs
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