I remember reaching the age where I was overthinking things by 2003, pondering whether we’d ever be nostalgic for what seemed like a really trashy, overexposed time for popular culture. Besides D-Block, Hov, 50, Kanye, State Property, DavidBannerDavidBannerDavidBanner and Dipset, plus expectations for the likes of Saigon, I don’t recall sensing that I’d ever look back at that era’s heavily marketed output with any real fondness. It seemed to be all XXL garms, giant fitteds and white leather shoes with gleaming silver accents. Watching 2003 and 2004’s Source Awards in their entirety (as far as I recall, this was the last of the event, with the BET Awards taking on in 2005). But looking back, via Brendan Evans’ YouTube channel, you can tell that loose throwbacks, acres of baggy twill overalls, do-rags and flat brims will be the subject of much editorial/clickbait scrutiny regarding appropriation when they become fashionable again in 2019 after we get the 1990s out of our collective systems (can you imagine the legal/social media over Onyx firing blanks(?) at the ceiling for that 1994 Source Awards Throw Ya Gunz performance?). We’ve seen the Lil Wayne, D-Block and that Dipset performance before, but it’s more fun when you see it as part of the entire show — a time when Eve couldn’t be bothered to reach the venue, Kurtis Blow told you that Kurtis Blow Jr was the future and Bonecrusher was taking awards. In fact, the last 15 minutes of the 2003 ceremony feel like a statement of intent for the south, which with all that larger than life crunk juice swigging, still felt like a novelty — today’s snaking queues for a Gucci Mane tee proved otherwise. 12 years feels like some kind of analogue, optimistic, exaggerated sketch of what the future would be. Despite trying as hard as I could to fight the feeling, I’m nostalgic for it.