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Race for the Prize: 90s Music Biographies

The music scene of the 1990s was confused. At the turn of that last decade, Hip-hop was displacing Metal as the top-selling genre, and Nirvana was allegedly setting off the so-called “alternative revolution,” yet Guns ‘N Roses was all over MTV with opulent, twelve-minute videos and all over the charts with an epic double CD. The world was wild at heart and weird on top.

Black PostcardsUnderneath that odd veneer of mainstream schizophrenia, independent music was thriving. Dean Wareham is one of the unsung architects of indie rock. His bands, Galaxie 500 and Luna, helped define a sound and an era. Black Postcards (Penguin, 2008) is his memoir of the making of that sound, a glimpse at a time in music that is all but long gone: days of record stores, seven inch records and colored vinyl releases, vans and venues, maps and menues… Wareham did his share of time in this world, roaming the land beneath the radar. It was a time when, as he writes, “It was odd playing to an audience of eleven, and then being interviewed as if anyone cared what we had to say about anything” (p. 63).

Wareham’s stories are an in-depth look at band dynamics during a chaotic era and how the music industry worked at the height of its excesses, as well as how Wareham himself negotiated both — an era where label heads describe bands like Luna as “little boats,” saying, “There are too many small boats in the harbor. They’re all trying to get out to sea. But it’s crowded — so many little boats, the big boats can’t get out to sea. It’s terrible” (p. 176). This is when record store shelf space was at a higher premium, before the digital revolution made records in the long tail profitable.

Black Postcards is largely well written and a fun read, even if a bit snarky and nitpicky in places (plenty of venom for Seattle bands, digital technology, The Pixies, etc.), but who wouldn’t, if given such a chance to do so, try to even the score a bit? Even when he’s a grumpy old man about things, his insights are astute. In regard to the music business’s financial woes, he tackles the concert business as well, writing,

There were hundreds of bands out there, booking the clubs months in advance, playing their stupid songs. there is something tribal about it — different groups of men wearing different kinds of rock clothing, descended from different rock traditions, singing their songs and dressing up and dancing around, competing with other groups of men for an audience’s attention (p. 293).

Wareham is also the only other person I know of who likens Eddie Vedder’s voice to Cher’s. Anyway, couple this book with Matthew Buzzell’s Luna documentary, Tell Me Do You Miss Me (Rhino, 2006), and you have a crash course in Wareham’s world of the 90s, as well as two of its most critically renowned and respected outfits.

[Note: While reading Wareham’s book, I also started reading Alfred Jarry’s Exploits & Opinions of Dr. Faustroll, Pataphysician which was most recently published by the Exact Change imprint. Unbeknownst to me at the time, Exact Change is run by Damon Krukowski and Naomi Yang, also known as the other two-thirds of Galaxie 500. The coincidence was far too weird to ignore.]

Staring at SoundSpeaking of renowned, respected, and weird, Staring at Sound: The True Story of Oklahoma’s Fabulous Flaming Lips by Jim DeRogatis (Broadway Books, 2006) presents a wholly different view of the same era. If Galaxie 500’s records sounded like they came “from another planet,” then The Flaming Lips are still orbiting some other sun. Staring at Sound does a great job of following their formation from their old meat locker practice space to clubs all over the globe, from parking lots across America to the big screen in Christmas on Mars (2008).

Lead Lip Wayne Coyne talks about not being able to relate to bands from New York such as Sonic Youth, but feeling completely natural broing down with San Antonio’s Butthole Surfers. His musings on recording, filming, and performing are intriguing and enlightening. It’s funny, in some aspects, these guys are so regular. In others, their brains are in backwards. Both cases make their story thus far fun and freaky, and DeRogatis does a fine job telling it.

By the way, like me, Jim DeRogatis spent the 90s writing about music for magazines. Unlike me, Jim got his musings collected and published. One of his previous books, Milk It! Collected Musings on the Alternative Music Explosion of the 90s (Da Capo, 2003) is one man’s close-up view of the build-up and breakdown of the music of the time.

On another planet still, but coming up during the same era, Pantera defined a different kind of 90s music. At a time when Heavy Metal was supposed to be dead (friend and fellow writer Adem Tepedelen wrote at the time that metal wasn’t dead, it was “just wounded and pissed off!”), the Cowboys from Hell were debuting records at the top of the charts — back when that meant selling hundreds of thousands of records in just a few days (1994’s Far Beyond Driven sold 186,000 copies in its first week). Their guitarist, “Dimebag” Darrell Abbott was adored and hailed by everyone who knew him and his playing.

Black Tooth GrinBlack Tooth Grin by Zac Crain (Da Capo, 2009) tells Dimebag’s story, from his birth in Arlington, Texas to his death on stage in Columbus, Ohio, from Pantera’s glittery late-80s beginnings to their chart-destroying reign as one of Metal’s most unrelenting acts. Through it all, Dimebag managed to remain a blue-collar Texas everyman while simultaneously becoming a certified Metal guitar god. He was a genuine guy no matter, always ready to buy a tray of shots for the friends at the bar. As friend and business partner Larry English puts it, “There was no fake Dime” (p. 258). He wasn’t quite on his way to burning out, but he never got the chance to fade away. Among many other things about Dimebag, Crain’s book sheds new light on that harrowing night in Columbus in 2004. Dean Wareham may have gotten yelled at by fans for breaking up Galaxie 500, but he didn’t get gunned down for it.

Metal always gets a bad rap when it comes to those who typically write about music. It’s often depicted as cartoonish and silly, the very antithesis of punk or indie rock (Hip-hop is often treated the same way, as if one genre is more “true” or “real” than another). This elitism, if I may call it such, is the antithesis of what I thought the whole punk rock/DIY idea was about. It often seems like less of a dislike for the genre, and more of a contempt for its fans. You might not enjoy Pantera, maybe you think they’re baffoons and their fans are worse, but they did exactly what anyone else who’s ever wanted to play music for a living did — and they never compromised what they wanted that music to be.

The 90s were a weird time for music, and one that we’re not likely to see again. These three books offer three different glimpses into that time and how three bands navigated it — all with varying degrees of success, bitterness, and carnage, but all with a damn good story.

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By the way, if you like the behind the music stories no matter the genre, I also recommend The Long Hard Road Out of Hell by Marilyn Manson and Neil Strauss (ReganBooks, 1998) and for added debauchery, check out The Dirt by Motley Crue and Neil Strauss (HarperEntertainment, 2002) and Lords of Chaos by Michael Moynihan and Didrik Soderlind (Feral House, 2003). Oh, and I can never say enough good about Continuum’s 33 1/3 Series.

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The Mars Volta in DIG BMX Magazine

I wrote the following gushing essay regarding The Mars Volta for the May/June, 2009 issue (#70) of DIG BMX Magazine. Sandy Carson took the photo at Austin City Limits last fall.

Out of the ashes of the explosive and eventually implosive El Paso, Texas ensemble At the Drive-In, Omar Rodriguez-Lopez and Cedric Bixler-Zavala (and friends) blaze on as The Mars Volta. These guys are mind terrorists with a penchant for bombastic, post-hardcore art rock (“artcore”?), beautifully written yet always slightly askew compositions, and flawlessly executed instrumentation and vocals – all operating at genius levels. They might be the best American rock band out there today.

The Mars Volta [photo by Sandy Carson]

The other extant members of ATDI went on to play more palatable places (under the name Sparta), and these guys got their wildest musician friends together, got high, and got on with the weirdness. Folks like Ikie Owens (of the Long Beach Dub Allstars), audio artist Jeremy Ward, and the interesting members of the Red Hot Chili Peppers (i.e., Flea and John Frusciante) all added their filthy, funky fingerprints to the band’s early releases. Thought the line-up fluctuated with every release, fellow eccentric, energetic expert Frusciante managed to stay on board for all of the band’s studio excursions.

For The Mars Volta, the studio is a space ship. These guys take you places: outerspace, innerspace, liminal space. De-Loused in the Comatorium (2003) tells the story of Cerpin Taxt, a character based on the life and death of fellow El Paso artist and friend Julio Venegas. During the tour for De-Loused, friend and collaborator Jeremy Ward died of a heroin overdose. Prior to studio work, Ward had been a repo man and found a diary in one of his charges. The diary proved to have eerie parallels with his own life and provided much of the material for the band’s next record, Francis the Mute (2005). Ward also coined the term “amputechture,” which served as the title of The Mars Volta’s third LP released in 2006. Their latest, 2008’s The Bedlam in Goliath gets its namesake and birthright from an archaic ouija board that Rodriguez-Lopez bought in Jerusalem as a gift for Bixler-Zavala. On the tour for Amputechture, conversing and conspiring with the board (a.k.a. “The Soothsayer”) became a nightly post-show band ritual. Many of the songs on the record were written and named during these spooky sessions.

DIG BMX #70Whereas previous outings have meandered and gone all proggy in places, The Bedlam in Goliath, only progs-out when that aids its onslaught. This record is a monster. It sucks you in and spits you out. It’s bodice-ripping, it’s zipless, it’s a mile deep and still digging, it burns until everything is ash, it never lets up. It’s abrasive and aggressive, yet funky as all hell.

I know of only one other band that can be this consistently effed-up and remain so infectious and intriguing (Radiohead). A one-word description of The Mars Volta: seductive. They make challenging music that will quickly suck you in over your head, but how long do you really want to splash around in the shallow end anyway?

The Mars Volta page in DIG #70

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Russian Circles: Not Enough Blood

Post-rock instrumental bands have been emerging from every crack and crevice of the map the past few years. You can usually tell them by their simmering introductions that build to explosive crescendos and their airy adverb-clause or sentence-length names.

Russian Circles’ heavy brand of meandering rock leaves lesser bands choking on their smoke. Where amateurs follow the slowly-build-then-explode archetype, Mike Sullivan (guitar), Brian Cook (bass), and Dave Turncrantz (drums) avert cliché, smash expectations, and drive it home clean. It’s a difference difficult to describe but easy to hear, leaving many writers — myself included — sounding stupid.

Russian Circles are currently in the studio with Brandon Curtis (of Secret Machines) behind the boards, working on a follow-up to last year’s massive and majestic Station (Suicide Squeeze). Brian Cook (also of These Arms Are Snakes and formerly of Botch) took a break from laying down bass tracks to answer a few questions about the band, the record, and the state of music in general.

Russian Circles

Roy Christopher: What did you guys do differently this time around?

Brian Cook: There were more practices, more demos, more rewrites, and more studio time. There were also all the lessons we’d learned from the past to contend with. We were less concerned with perfect takes and more concerned with perfect tones. We switched up a lot of ideas as we were recording and we were less concerned with making sure we could replicate the material live as we were with making a compelling album. Both Enter (Flameshovel, 2006) and Station were pretty faithful to how we play live, so we felt we could get away with doing an album where we elaborate on the material a bit more. So the new album has strings, brass, and a howling dog, none of which will be appearing live.

RC: A lot of instrumental so-called “post-rock” bands have emerged in the past few years. Do you feel that this has changed the way you approach your music?

BC: I suppose it means there are quite a few more reference points, both for us as artists and for our audience. It means that we’re somewhat self-aware of what we do, and for the audience it may be tempting to weigh the merits of what we do against other bands and artists instead of judging it on its own terms. It would be nice to pretend that we exist in some sort of cultural bubble, but we don’t. Fortunately, I think post-rock is a pretty nebulous term. There is about as much crossover between “post-rock” bands like Trans Am and Stars of the Lid as there is between, say, Devo and Tangerine Dream. In other words, the tag doesn’t really mean shit. Or rather, it means that I have to sit through the same obnoxious conversations about “post-rock” that I had to sit through 15 years ago, except back then the topic was “punk” or “hardcore.” On a side note, I am starting a ballot initiative that would require people to apply for a license before they can buy a delay pedal. That should help stymie the popularity of this brand of music.

RC: Speaking of, has the slow demise of the compact disc changed the way you approach your music or the way you approach recording?

BC: Not really. We don’t want to overstay our welcome, so we feel that six or seven songs is about the extent of material people can put up with in one sitting. So our live sets and albums inevitably wind up around the same length. Actually, the album is a bit longer than we had planned, but all the material made sense together, so we’ll take our chances that our ADD-afflicted culture can put up with our self-indulgence. Aside from that, we spend more time thinking about how much time you can fit on a side of vinyl record and where we need to put the album breaks than thinking about CDs.

RC: What do you guys do for fun outside of playing music?

BC: My hobbies include fighting “the system”, drinking, shooting guns, and watching TV. Sometimes I do all four at once. I also like eating and fucking, but I’ve been told that it’s scientifically impossible to do both at the same time because you only have enough blood in your body to sustain an erection or digest food, but not both. I suppose I could be on the receiving end and still eat a sandwich, though… Might have to try that sometime.

[Russian Circles photo by Ryan Russell]

————

Here’s a live clip of Russian Circles performing “Death Ride a Horse” from Enter [runtime: 6:01]:

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Research Help

I often hear or overhear interesting anecdotes that, if they stick with me, I later attempt to locate sources for. Well, I am currently in need of two citations, and for the life of me, I can’t find them. I need proper accounts of and sources for these stories:

  • When Thomas Edison demonstrated his original recording of “Mary Had a Little Lamb,” a prominent figure heard it and was absolutely appalled. He couldn’t sleep that night for fear that Edison was conjuring the dead with his invention (or some such nonsense).
  • It has been said (somewhere) that good architectural engineers put sidewalks in last because then you know where they belong from the trails left by the traffic of feet.

If you have any idea where I can find the original (or secondary) accounts of these stories, let me know. I’d greatly appreciate it.

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The End of Print

Magazines have always been my favorite form of media. Having grown up in rural areas of the South, I found the window to my interests opened in their glossy pages. The big photos and words from other worlds kept me connected to all that I wanted to be a part of. If this sounds a bit romantic, it was. The grocery store newsstand and the mailbox were the modem jacks of the time.

Back then, it was music, skateboarding, and BMX magazines, and though those still capture my attention on a regular, these are the ones of which I don’t miss an issue.

SeedSeed
For my regular science fix, Seed is by far the best magazine out there right now. If Wired was still weird (like it was up until 1998 or so) and focused on science instead of the web, it might resemble Seed. Excellent visualizations and great writing, plus the Seed Salon in which two luminaries — whose interests are often unexpectedly juxtaposed — discuss a pressing science issue. Past Seed Salon’s have included such pairs as David Byrne and Daniel Levitin, Albert-László Barabási and James Fowler, Jonathon Lethem and Janna Levin, Benoit Mandlebrot and Paola Antonelli, Will Self and Spencer Wells, Jill Tarter and Will Wright, Tom Wolfe and Michael Gazzaniga, and Robert Stickgold and Michel Gondry, among many others. I’m obviously biased, but I love the fact that every issue includes this form of dialogue alongside the monologue of Seed‘s traditional articles, which are consistently stellar (oh, their website is excellent as well).

GoodGood
Coming in second on my magazine must-haves is Good. Some of the best infographics I’ve ever seen have been on this magazine’s pages. Good is not necessarily about anything in particular, except good things — good ideas, good design, good stuff. Each issue of Good is themed, which is both good and bad. It’s good because when they cover something, they cover it well. It’s bad because sometimes one might not be interested in the theme. With that said, they’ve often won me over anyway.

WiredWired
Though the common sentiment (I even expressed it above) is that Wired used to be better, it’s still one of the best. The lost art of long-form narrative journalism is alive and well in Wired. They’re also consistently refreshing their voice with new writers, staying true to much of their original blueprint, and challenging their readers with easter eggs. Their recent “Mystery Issue,” guest edited by J. J. Abrams no less, is chock-a-block with perplexing puzzles and hidden games. So times have changed and so has Wired, but you’ll still be hard-pressed to find a better read at your local Safeway.

MakeMake
Make is more like a quarterly how-to book — how to do everything yourself. It’s the D.I.Y. bible. Some of the most creative people and writers alike work for Make (people like our friends Gareth Branwyn and Mark Frauenfelder), and they spread and network with makers from all over with the magazine, the website, tools from the Maker Shed, and Maker Faire — the latter of which is going down in San Francisco this very weekend!

There are a few more I pick up once in a while: Geek is never quite as cool as it purports to be, but I still snag it sometimes. Fast Company is sometimes interesting enough to buy. Psychology Today often reels me in in spite of myself. And despite everything I’ve written above, DIG BMX is still the best magazine on the planet.

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Teach Copyright Right!

From the Electronic Frontier Foundation:

Last week, the Copyright Alliance Education Foundation — a nonprofit mouthpiece for the entertainment and software industries — unveiled plans to spread its protectionist ideas to the nation’s schools and libraries through the distribution of a curriculum titled “Think First, Copy Later.”  “Think First, Copy Later” and other intimidating educational materials were produced by the MPAA, RIAA, Business Software Alliance, and other content holders to scare students into believing that making copies is wrong.

EFF knows that the creators and innovators of tomorrow don’t need more intimidation.  What they need is solid, accurate information that will help them make smart choices about how to use new technologies. That’s why EFF is launching the free, Creative Commons-licensed “Teaching Copyright” curriculum and website to help educators explore copyright issues in their classrooms.  These materials encourage students to discover their legal rights and responsibilities — including how to make full and fair use of technology that is revolutionizing learning and the exchange of information.

The debates over copyright and technology — whether they take place in classrooms, pressrooms or courtrooms — should be based on facts, not fear.  Help EFF in our ongoing efforts to educate the public — including smart, creative and inquisitive young people — about the purpose and limits of copyright law.

Please donate to EFF today!

Sincerely,

Electronic Frontier Foundation

Teach Copyright Right

In addition, the release says,

The Teaching Copyright curriculum is a detailed, customizable plan that connects students to contemporary issues related to the Internet and technology. Teaching Copyright invites discussion about how creativity is enabled by new technologies, what digital rights and responsibilities exist or should exist, and what roles students play as users of technology. The website at www.teachingcopyright.org includes guides to copyright law, including fair use and the public domain.

“Kids are bombarded with messages that using new technology is illegal,” said EFF Activist Richard Esguerra. “Instead of approaching the issues from a position of fear, Teaching Copyright encourages inquiry and greater understanding. This is a balanced curriculum, asking students to think about their role in the online world and to make informed choices about their behavior.”

The Teaching Copyright curriculum was developed with the input of educators from across the U.S. and has been designed to satisfy components of standards from the International Society for Technology in Education and the California State Board of Education.

A worthy cause all around.

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Feminist Review on Follow for Now

Ann Raber posted this review of Follow for Now on Feminist Review, saying,

The title comes from the lyrics of a Public Enemy song, which is the equivalent of a Jesus fish drawn in the sand for white guys raised in the 1980s. So all of you Wired subscribers who jam Handsome Boy Modeling School and know what “Obey Giant” means, you are among friends.

However, as much as I like guys who like old school hip-hop, Follow for Now has some issues. First of all, the terribly pretentious and off-putting front matter ought to be addressed, lest an unsuspecting reader open up the book and get so icked out by the preface that they toss it aside in horror–which would be a shame.

Lest you think I exaggerate, behold the opening line of the preface: “This book is decidedly eclectic.” I know. It might as well read: “Pretentious self-important douchiness abounds in many forms.”

Ms. Raber clearly likes my book, but does not care for me, and that’s fine. Her review is thorough, and I appreciate her attention to it. My comment over there was only to correct a misquote.

If you’re still interested after all of that, the book is available on Amazon, Powell’s, and at followfornow.com.

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Tricia Rose: Hip-hop Warrior

Tricia Rose is the O.G. Hip-hop scholar. Her book Black Noise (Wesleyan, 1994) is one of the germinal texts for serious Hip-hop studies. Anyone who approaches the culture of Hip-hop from a serious stance must contend with Rose’s work. Her latest book, The Hip-Hop Wars (Basic Civitas, 2008), is a critical look at the debates surrounding Hip-hop, debates that have largely sprung up in the fifteen years since Black Noise was published. Hip-hop music and culture deserves to be taken seriously and looked at critically, and Tricia Rose is down to give it its due.

Tricia Rose

Roy Christopher: Tell us a bit about your new book The Hip-hop Wars and how it differs from Black Noise.

Tricia Rose: Black Noise was a very academic treatment of the emergence of Hip-hop and its political and aesthetic and social element/impact on black culture and US society. It was about the music and lyrics and the social context. Although it addressed the debates about Hip-hop in the public sphere it was interested in figuring out Hip-hop “on its own terms” and setting an intellectual agenda for understanding what was then an emergent art form.

The Hip-Hop WarsHip-Hop Wars is about the public conversation on Hip-hop and how that conversation along with the spiraling downward content of commercial Hip-hop is working together to restore racial stereotype (and therefore undermine real cross-racial unity and equality), dumb down Hip-hop fans and continue the justification of unjust social policies that most negatively impact poor black youth. It is highly accessible, created with bite size chapters and is intended to spark youth engagement with social justice issues through Hip-hop (e.g., gender, racial and class) and to challenge all the stupid arguments leveled for and against Hip-hop in mainstream and Hip-hop media.

RC: Can you briefly explain the “gangsta-pimp-ho trinity” and how you think it came about?

TR: This is a term I came up with to describe the intensely defended most powerful Hip-hop triangle of financially profitable but socially destructive images that have dominated commercial mainstream Hip-hop for over a decade now. I wanted to convey their mutual relationships and I wanted to imply that together they make up the “god” of Hip-hop that is worshipped by record company executives, rappers (present and aspiring) and fans. I also wanted to challenge readers into thinking about how too many of us investment in these images as if they are the truth and that anyone who challenges this is considered outside of the culture and therefore unworthy of serious consideration. As for how it came about, well that’s an answer far too long for this space but in Hip-Hop Wars! But the very, very short answer would be: a) long and powerful history of racial stereotypes that perceive blacks as violent, criminal and hyper sexual, now refashioned for the urban present; b) expansion street economies in poor communities due to chronic and very high levels of joblessness elevates these icons in real life; c) economic value of these images of black people.

RC: I agree with you that the Hip-hop Generation needs “the sharpest critical tools to survive and thrive,” but, as Jay-Z says, they just wanna hear their boy talk fly. How are we to engage Hip-hop heads with the necessary critique of this dear culture?

TR: Black youth have always wanted to hear fly artists talk, style and boast. The issue is not about the style of Hip-hop but its content. Black artists have been incredibly creative without elevating the worst of ourselves, without constant justification of self and community destructive attitudes and behaviors. The whole history of jazz is about fly artists talking (think of the powerful style and linguistic and musical creativity associated with BeBop). And politics has always been conveyed through fly talk. What has happened is that now, this style — this powerful way of making creative pleasure is serving a death imperative. It is what I call “the manipulation of the funk” (funk serving here as a parallel to the idea of fly boy talk; the role of stylistic pleasure in making content pleasurable.

Black NoiseSo, the question isn’t why aren’t mainstream rappers political (they are – it is a politics of renegade, community destruction) or how do we get them to be critical (they are critical of all kinds of things, but too often it’s the wrong things!) it is what kind of politics are some rappers pushing when their “fly boys talk.” What kind of critical So the opposite of “bitches ain’t nothing but hos and tricks” or “99 problems” isn’t necessarily Public Enemy’s “Fight the Power” or Immortal Technique’s “The Cause of Death,” it is something like Lupe Fiasco’s “Kick, Push” or “The Cool” or Common’s “The Corner.”

RC: I’ve asked a few emcees why when one performs angry black music that the audience is mostly white. The answer I get is that it’s a class issue not a race issue. That is, middle- and upper-class folks are the ones with the leisure time to contemplate such issues. Other factors notwithstanding do you think this is an accurate assessment of the situation?

TR: When I watched 50 Cent’s DVD concert in the Detroit area I was stunned to see the mostly white audience when the rear stage cameras were in action. Yes, middle class youth have both the comfort and the educational resources to attend to these issues in a conceptual way and their consumption of radical ideas is given more room and safety. Black rappers with “angry” political content rapping to an all black crowd tends to bring out the police and the FBI; there is a long history of that in Hip-hop alone, not to mention R&B and Soul music in the late 1960s. And, black fans use “local” black radio as a key means for guiding consumption. Back radio (which isn’t local or black owned too much anymore) rarely plays radical political content — which would make it seem organic to black communities (which it is) and give it currency among black youth.

RC: Is there anything else I didn’t bring up or that you’re working on that you’d like to mention?

TR: Thanks for asking this. I want to mention the end of the book where I offer six guiding principles for progressive consumption generally and specifically for Hip-hop. I think it is so important to remind ourselves of how powerful, energizing and beautiful creative expression can be. And, to not be manipulated into thinking that the content need not be rough to be valuable (often a culturally conservative position) or that it is “keepin’ it real” when it panders to subcultures of self-destruction and violence (the hyper-pro-Hip-hop defenders). Most of us need a more balanced and forward looking, progressive way out of this. My six principles outline a larger way to think about culture, our past, our communities and our politics in ways that honors the complexity of creativity but refuses to give a free pass to those who let the market rule. So, I’ll close on one of these principles: We live in a market economy, don’t let the market economy live in us.”

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Sean Price: Bless the M.I.C.

Sean Price is that dude. He is one-half of “Da Incredible Rap Team” Heltah Skeltah (where he is known as Ruck), one-fifth of the Fab Five, and has been in the Boot Camp Clik since day square. All of that notwithstanding, his solo work is where he truly shines. On Monkey Barz (Duck Down, 2005), he proved he could go for dolo and drop ill bars with no backup. On Jesus Price Superstar (Duck Down, 2007), he proved he was one of the best doing it. He is an emcee who realizes the power of writing, but who doesn’t take himself too seriously.

Sean Price

He has several new projects in the works, not the least of which are a record with Guilty Simpson and Black Milk called Random Axe, and a new solo joint called Mic Tyson.

Admittedly, Sean Price is also my favorite emcee, so it was an extreme honor to catch up with him and ask him a few questions.

Roy Christopher: Emcees are constantly coming cookie-cutter or trying to be so different that they come off corny. You always come different, but stay in the frame. What keeps you grounded?

Sean Price: I don’t know, and I think not knowing is the key for me.

RC: Do you have any set goals with your music? If so, what are they?

SP: Just to put it out and work it really. I don’t give a fuck about the best-rapper shit even though I’m pretty good.

RC: You’ve been busy, Sean. Tell me about the new joints you have coming up.

SP: Yeah, I just completed my mixtape entitled Kimbo Price. It’s just me rhyming on some instrumentals. It’s a warm up to Mic Tyson.

Random Axe is me, Guilty Simpson and my G, Black Milk. That’s gonna be a incredible album. Black Milk is one of the best producers/emcees in the game. Fire!

RC: No question… You’ve been very supportive of Hip-hop legends that don’t always get support these days (e.g., Das-EFX, Sadat X, et al.). How can we get the younger heads to pay homage?

SP: I don’t know, but these younger motherfuckers better respect they elders!

I’m a fan of Hip-hop first of all. I was one of those kids who taped Red Alert and Mr. Magic and Marley Marl. I copped LPs and read the credits, so when I got a deal later, it was a honor for me to be surrounded by motherfuckers I grew up listening to, and I stay humble… I remember smoking a blunt with Primo watching him work on “Unbelievable” for Biggie… Ah, good times.

RC: What else are you working on?

SP: A lot of shit like the Ill Bill / Sean P LP called The Pill, and a surprise LP with… Stay tuned!

Oh, I was kicked out the group La Coka Nostra they ain’t wanna deal with my kind. I said, “What kind do you mean?” and Lefty roundhoused kicked me in the stomach and Ill Bill did his best King Kong Bundy impersonation… Lawsuits pending… Lethal didn’t want me in the group because he signed Rock and didn’t wanna deal with me… Lawsuits pending.

RC: Is there anything else you’d like to bring up here?

SP: Nah. Just keep God in ya life, and you be ah’ight.

———-

In lieu of his non-rap antics (just search YouTube), here is a video clip of Sean Price’s “Mess You Made” from Jesus Price Superstar [runtime: 3:53]:

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