A few decades ago, a renowned poet by the name of Christopher Wallace said the prospects of upward mobility for inner city youth revolved around slanging crack rock or having a wicked jump shot. Here in 2013, Washington, D.C. emcee SmCity deconstructs that misnomer and the dangers of embracing that philosophy. Highly appropriate to drop this on Martin Luther King’s birthday. SmCity’s forthcoming album, Dream Cemetery, hits stores in March.
SMCITY FT. MAFFEW RAGAZINO – “SPORTS & ENTERTAINMENT”
For those who are only familiar with Max Kellerman from his current gig as HBO commentator/analyst for their Boxing After Dark and World Championship Boxing series, you may be surprised to know his love for Hip-Hop runs just as deep as his boxing passion. Back in 1994, a seminal year for ground-breaking Hip-Hop albums, Kellerman and brother Sam were signed to Columbia as the rap duo Max and Sam, dropping a video for “Young Man Rumble.” Nearly 20 years later, who does Max view as the greatest emcee of all time? Who’s career was the biggest disappointment? As the below interview will show, Kellerman’s opinions on Hip-Hop are just as bold and diverse as some of his boxing stances.
Beats, Boxing & Mayhem: Just on your gut instinct, is Hip-Hop as an art form doing better today than it was when you were making music in the 90s?
Kellerman: It really depends on the music industry and how it’s organized. When it’s wide open you have more creativity. I was arguing with [my friend] Marcellus about how many eras did the East Coast have, how many did the West Coast have? When did it switch eras? I still liked East Coast better at the time but they weren’t doing anything new. It was the same thing, derivative. It was great stuff but it was derivative stuff.
Then all of sudden we heard a new sound out of the West Coast. It was original and the era shifted. But I think, and my radio partner Marcellus disagrees, the era went back to the East Coast with Wu-Tang, Mobb Deep and Capone-N-Noreaga. All of a sudden you were hearing a new sound you hadn’t heard before.
And now the South. I haven’t heard since the South took over a new sound where you would say, “This is the dawn of a new era.”
I think it has to do with the structure of the business but I haven’t been in it in so long, [about] 20 years. I could not speak intelligently on how that struture is affecting the music that’s being made.
Beats, Boxing & Mayhem: I remember a few years back you compared Nas’ career to Mike Tyson’s. But we see Nas has been on quite the career run lately, something Tyson failed to achieve in his later years. Would you still place yourself in the camp of those critics who feel Nas still has yet to live up to his potential?
Kellerman: Hip-Hop is a young man’s game but it’s changed recently like sports. Older guys have hung on. But with Nas there’s so much water under the bridge. Are we supposed to forget Nas Escobar? When Nas came out it was “Look! G Rap and Rakim had a kid!” That was what it sounded like. He was going to be the greatest rapper that ever lived. When Illmatic was hot, when you asked anyone with a lie detector test or a gun to their head, it was Nas [as the greatest]. Emotionally, that was the impact.
C’mon, “In the building lobby/Probably couldn’t see as high as I be” All that stuff? It was like yo, this was next level…
But back to earlier, the derivative starts to make the original sound older, dated. So now whatcha got [new]? Because he didn’t follow up with something on [Illmatic's] level… Look, when Tyson came on the scene, no one would admit it, but he would’ve been the favorite against anyone in history. Even guys like me who say Ali would’ve beaten him or George Foreman had the right style for him, bottom line is the odds would’ve favored Tyson. That tells you what people really thought. But it [his career] didn’t turn out that way.
Now, if you talk about the five greatest heavyweights, Tyson’s name does not get mentioned. It’s like around 9-10. This is why I feel he and Nas are similar. But the late-career renaissance for Nas, that’s a good look. Even “Made You Look,” how many songs are better than that? Ridiculous…
Beats, Boxing & Mayhem: Let’s continue on with the connections between boxing and Hip-Hop…
Kellerman: Black people!
Beats, Boxing & Mayhem: [laughs] That’s one. Why do think HBO’s attempt for a director Hip-Hop/boxing crossover with “KO Nation” flopped?
Kellerman: They were just trying to do something without really knowing why they’re doing it. Look, white people don’t really buy tickets to fights. Black people don’t really buy tickets. But, they’ll buy pay-per-views and watch it on TV. Mexican fans? They buy tickets. You can go into sociology or whatever, but African-American fighters post Sugar Ray Leonard people assumed there wasn’t a market for it because when we look in the crowd, we don’t see them.
Floyd [Mayweather] was the first guy to really come around and exploit the fact of it doesn’t mean they [African-Americans] weren’t watching on T.V. or buying pay-per-views. And once the event is big enough, doesn’t mean they won’t come out and watch either. Floyd Mayweather’s team was the first in a long time, maybe ever, to go out into the urban marketplace, which is a code word for black, let’s face it, and say “Hey, here’s an African-American fighter, interested in the same things the youth culture is, representing you, and is fighting. Oh, and he’s the best there is. You might want to check him out.”
They did a great job of galvanizing that population. Once it trickles out it becomes a big event. Dre and Snoop didn’t go five times platinum just selling to black kids. There were white kids in the suburbs watching and got interested.
Beats, Boxing & Mayhem: How bad is the damage to Mayweather and Pacquiao’s legacies for delaying and possibly not ever fighting each other?
Kellerman: Tremendous damage. They’ve damaged it because the fight’s not as big now as it would’ve been say 1-2 years ago because Floyd’s now seen as the prohibitive favorite, so that takes a little shine off. Floyd Mayweather is one of the three best pure boxers since the second World War: Willie Pep was the first, Pernell Whitaker was the second and now Floyd Mayweather. Manny Pacquiao is one of the best aggression fighters since the Depression really: Henry Armstrong, Roberto Duran and now Manny Pacquiao.
They’re fighting more or less in the same weight class and around their primes. Are you kidding me? I don’t want to hear it, fight! I do think they will eventually fight because Floyd doesn’t fight unless he’s 100% sure he’ll win. I think he was watching Pacquiao a year or two ago and was like ”Hmmm, I’m 70% sure I’ll beat that guy.” And Top Rank doesn’t want to kill the goose that lays the golden egg because it’s a very risky fight for them, especially if Floyd wins by a very wide margin.
The moment Top Rank thinks Manny will lose his next fight, the more likely they’ll make the fight. And when Mayweather is 100% sure he’ll beat Pacquiao, he’s likely to make the fight with Pacquiao. Those two things should dovetail so eventually we’ll fortunately get the fight. Unfortunately, by the time we get it, Floyd will be a substantial favorite to win. Not that it’s a bad thing if he wins, but you want a 50-50 type fight.
Beats, Boxing & Mayhem: Should they never fight, will this be another Jack Dempsey-Harry Wills situation?
Kellerman: Dempsey didn’t go through much when he didn’t fight Harry Wills. Dempsey wanted to fight Harry Wills but what was the upside for him? By the way, I don’t necessarily think Harry Wills beats Jack Dempsey. Maybe there was upside because you can play up the race angle but you can blame that on Jack Johnson. When you have gold teeth, smile at the white guy you’re beating up, marry white women and drive fast cars… he had every right to do it and I’m glad he did it. But, a black guy wasn’t going to get a shot at the title for a hot minute after that. Jack Dempsey was a killer; he didn’t care who he fought.
Beats, Boxing & Mayhem: Going back to Floyd Mayweather and your pure boxer praise for him, how do you think he’d have fit back in the Fab Four era?
Kellerman: I never think of who beats who. That’s [who's] better, not greater. Better and greater are two different categories. I’ll give you an example. One sport we can time with objective measuring is track and field. 100 meter dash, there’s no debate that Jesse Owens would be dusted by the tenth fastest guy in the world today. So the tenth fastest guy today is “better” than Jesse Owens. Better doesn’t apply. I don’t know who the tenth fastest guy is, but I know who Jesse Owens is. How did the tenth fastest guy do against his contemporaries today? What’s the average margin of victory?
Let’s argue the reverse for boxing and say it’s become increasingly marginalized in this country, and there were more fighters and trainers and therefore more experienced and better fighters 30 years ago, although the same argument was made in the 50s, I could reverse the arrow of time and say we might be getting worse. That’s fine, but still doesn’t mean you’re [today's fighters] not as great. Just like it helps Jesse Owens, it helps Floyd Mayweather. Even if you want to argue Tommy Hearns was better than Floyd Mayweather; he’s 6’2, 78 inch reach, can knock down a building, he can outbox anyone, how can Floyd beat him? Let’s say I go with that argument. That means Hearns is better, not greater. How did Hearns do against his contemporaries, his chief rivals? Who were his chief rivals? I don’t think Hearns is going down as a greater fighter than Mayweather, even if you want to argue he was better.
Beats, Boxing & Mayhem: Do you think the idea of boxer’s skill levels becoming worse has credence by the fact the older fighters can hang around so long and in some cases still dominate?
Kellerman: They’re not as good anymore. [laughs] Listen, I subscribe to the same theory. Why have the two best heavyweight eras occurred in the last 30-40 years? It’s because people are getting bigger, right? From a larger population you get more competition and expect to see more good fighters. Well, in boxing a guy who walks around 180 pounds, the average American male, you’re gonna fight at 160. Back in the day the average male walked around at 160, he’s gonna fight at 135-147. So you notice a lot of great lightweight and welterweight eras back then. In the 90s with Bowe, Holyfield, Tyson and Lennox, and in the 70s with Ali, Frazier, Foreman, you see that at heavyweight.
The same thing applies to older fighters. When you have a huge pool of fighters you have more fights and therefore more experienced fighters and trainers. You had more good fighters fighting as you went back in time. Once you get to the 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, you probably have the bulk of the best fighters… maybe 30s-70s. Maybe we’re now tailing off on the other end of that bell curve. There’s fewer fighters so it allows fighters like Bernard Hopkins to stick around longer. That said, right in the middle of the so-called golden era, you had Archie Moore doing what Bernard Hopkins is doing now so maybe I’m wrong about that.
I don’t think I’m being nostalgic. When I was a kid, the fighters in the 80s didn’t quite seem as good as the 70s. Maybe the 70s were comparable to the 50s, I don’t know. Greatest boxer of all time I’d say Sugar Ray Robinson, his prime was about 1947. Greatest baseball player of all time, Babe Ruth. His prime was in the 20s. Greatest basketball player of all time, Michael Jordan. His prime was in the 90s. So I don’t think I’m being sentimental about my youth. I think you look for greater, not better. But even if you look for better in boxing, I think they’re not quite as good now as they were a couple of decades ago when there was more of them.
Beats, Boxing & Mayhem: Speaking of Bernard, is there anything else he can do to add to his legacy at this point?
Kellerman: Oh yeah, he just needs to find the right guy. Listen, Chad Dawson would never have been the right guy for Bernard Hopkins. Not saying Bernard never would’ve beaten him, but a tall, rangy, athletic southpaw at 29 years old who’s a light-heavyweight? Hopkins made 20 defenses at middleweight. If in the middle of that run he moved up to challenge Dawson, he would have been the underdog. But if you put Bernard in against a wild guy like [Jean] Pascal, or a basic aggressive fighter like [Felix] Trinidad or Kelly Pavlik, who’s gonna come at him but in a basic way, he can make a good fight and still win.
Beats, Boxing & Mayhem: Can we put Tavoris Cloud in that category?
Kellerman: I think Tavoris Cloud would fall right in that category. At a certain point, the ring is going to retire you. Cloud would be a good test. Eventually he won’t be able to but based on his record he has a helluva shot to do it.
Beats, Boxing & Mayhem: One last question. Based on criteria we discussed earlier, who pops in your mind first as the greatest emcee of all time?
Kellerman: I think the greatest is Biggie…
Beats, Boxing & Mayhem: Wow!
Kellerman: Yeah, he obviously didn’t have the longevity. And maybe he would’ve seemed dated eventually, but the reason Jay-Z took over was because he filled a vacuum. When they were alongside each other, Pound 4 Pound, it was Biggie’s world. At his peak, as an overall emcee with delivery, live show, tracks, rhymes, the whole thing, Biggie just had a way with words that still sounds good. Hip-Hop doesn’t date great. It’s like comedy; it starts to sound old really fast.
Now over a whole career, how could you not give it to Jay-Z? Jay may be missing the things Biggie, Kool G Rap, Rakim and Nas had, which is genius of some kind, [but] Jay-Z is talking you into it. He’s studied hard enough. He’s a genius too and all of that but… When you see Magic Johnson pass the ball or even Larry Bird, there’s a little extra court vision of genius that if you saw Isiah Thomas pass the ball, he’s a great point guard, but not quite the same level of genius. Jay-Z is lacking that little thing, but he’s almost right there. He’s Hank Aaron in consistently. He’s not Babe Ruth, but he’ll get you 40 runs for 20 years and be the home run champ.
Beats, Boxing & Mayhem: Even though there was a lot of street nonsense invovled, do you dock Biggie any “greatness points” for not responding on wax, at least directly, to Tupac’s verbal challenges? Especially considering Jay and Nas went head to head…
Kellerman: Maybe… Tupac had more records because he started a little younger. It’s a matter of preference. From the East Coast you can recognize Tupac as being great, but it’s not like I was listening to Tupac records to tell you the truth. The beats didn’t sound right to me. I understand it was good music. There are pockets of people who swear by Tupac. But to me greatest emcee means lyrically, that’s what drives it. So early on it was Rakim and G Rap, then it turned to Nas then Biggie and Jay-Z at least on the East Coast.
Raekwon’s Only Built for Cuban Linx might be my favorite record or CNN War Report. Those were great records. I was dragged to a symposium on Public Enemy and these intellectuals were on stage talking about, “I remembering the first time I heard the driving beats of ‘Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos…” Yo, shut up! I don’t care about intellectualizing art! You either feel it or you don’t. There’s no objective standards to who’s the best emcee. Dirty on his first record was probably the best emcee because he was doing stuff that Nicki Minaj is doing now for female emcees. Is she like Roxanne Shante in her prime lyrically? But what’s that got to do anything?
Music is meant to be heard not read and you have a visceral response to it. It’s what you like and dig, not a criteria. And then you have guys like Big Pun who tried to rhyme every word with every other word to convince you he was G Rap. G Rap wasn’t sweating that though, he was just a genius. But again, my preference at his best, I’d say B.I.G.
Catch Max Kellerman on HBO’s boxing telecasts and during the week on ESPN LA radio with Marcellus Wiley 3 p.m.-7 p.m. on LA710 AM
A written confession by an incarcerated, high-ranking Los Angeles Crip and new book from a former detective assigned to the Tupac Shakur and Notorious B.I.G. investigations has named Bay Boy CEO Sean “Diddy” Combs as the person who ordered Shakur’s murder.
Titled Murder Rap, former detective Greg Kading claims to reveal information from secret confessions and tapes made during his tenure on both cases. The two most explosive concern Southside Crip member Dwayne “Keefee/Keffe D” Davis and a woman named Theresa Swann, purported to be the mother of one of Suge Knight’s children. Keffe D told LAPD officials in 2008 that Combs offered him $1 million dollars to kill both Shakur and Death Row CEO Suge Knight. Davis also confirmed that he was in the vehicle when his late cousin Orlando Anderson fired the fatal shots at Shakur on September 7, 1996 in Las Vegas. Swann allegedly confessed to Kading that Knight had given her money to pass along a murder contract on the Notorious B.I.G. to Bloods gang member Wardell “Poochie” Fouse.
Like Russell Poole, another former detective turned author who worked on the Biggie case, Kading believes the LAPD has mismanaged both investigations. However, Kading disagrees with Poole’s hypothesis that Biggie’s killers were the result of rogue LAPD cops associated with Knight and the city’s Rampart scandal.
Kading’s book marks the second time in three years Combs has been accused of organizing a Tupac Shakur shooting. In 2008, Pulitzer Prize winner Chuck Phillips wrote an L.A. Times article naming Combs as the individual who set up Shakur’s 1994 Manhattan robbery and shooting. Phillips and the newspaper would be forced to retract the story after court documents quoted in the article were found to be forged by an informant.
In an email statement released earlier today, Combs called Kading’s findings “pure fiction” and “completely ridiculous.”
Murder Rap will be available in book stores tomorrow.
Source: LA Weekly
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Here we go again. Although the book sounds entertaining, there’s already some holes you can poke in the story before reading Kading’s findings. The most obvious would be Suge Knight using his baby’s momma for a hit on the biggest Hip-Hop artist in the game. Suge has done a lot of stupid things, but it’s hard to fathom he’d be that dense. In contrast, Russell Poole’s theory of crooked, Blood-affiliated cops on Suge’s payroll being the killers sounds much more plausible.
Kading’s other theory of Combs offering Dwayne “Keefee D” Davis $1 million to kill Knight and Shakur is much more interesting. Davis confirms what most people already believe in that Orlando Anderson was Tupac’s killer. And it’s also known that Bad Boy did utilize Southside Crips for protection services while out in Los Angeles. Being affiliated with conflicting gangs would only deepen the Death Row/Bad Boy fued.
So why hasn’t there been any follow-up if this “confession” was made in 2008? First, it entirely contradicts what Davis told the FBI in 1997 about the shootings. At that time, he said he was not in the Shakur getaway vehicle nor was his nephew Orlando Anderson involved. This latest confession came as he was facing 25 years for a PCP distribution ring, further hurting his credibility on the appearance he’s saying anything to prevent a prolonged jail sentence. Finally, if Diddy hypothetically ordered the fatal Shakur shooting, there wouldn’t be any corroborating evidence. He’d make sure above all he was well insulated from any evidence beyond hearsay.
It’s surreal and disheartening that over 15 after their deaths we’re nowhere near an official resolution in either slaying.
Since Lil Kim celebrated her birthday last week, it’s only right to show the Queen Bee some more love here. One of her biggest hits came courtesy of an elegant jazz number from the Jeff Lorber Fusion group called “Rain Dance.” Lorber was an early advocate of what we now know as smooth jazz, and this track can be found on the 1979 album Water Sign. No chopping was necessary; a simple loop was all that was needed to create this memorable backdrop for Kim, Cease and B.I.G. I know you seen me on the video…
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“We’re running out of people… Pretty soon they’ll be nobody left…”
Over the last few months, a bunch of new theories and persons of interest have emerged in both the shootings of Tupac Shakur and the Notorious B.I.G. The latest is this sobering, near 14 minute clip of the police response at the crime scene and hospital after the killing of B.I.G.
As is well-known, Biggie (Christopher Wallace) was shot four times in the chest while seated in the passenger side of a GMC Suburban following a Vibe party at the Peterson Automotive Museum. The killers escaped in a black Chevy SS Impala. Despite evidence of involvement of crooked officers from the Rampart scandal, no arrests have ever been made in the case.
When Pac died, I was in shock. When Biggie passed, I remember being very angry and disgusted at the path of self-destruction our culture seemed to be going down. Here on the East Coast, Grandmaster Flash broke down and cried on Hot 97. Ice-T, in a move that I’ll always respect him for, called over from the West Coast trying to defuse the situation by dismissing rumors that fans on the West were celebrating.
Da Brat outside the hospital. Unfortunately, someone had the bright idea of having “FootageWorks.com” replayed over and over during the clip. You’ll be able to tune it out eventually.
The murder case was officially reopened in January. Earlier this month, an incarcerated former member of the Nation of Islam claimed he was an accomplice in the crime by helping to dispose of the semi-automatic handgun used in the slaying.
The New York Police Department are pursuing new evidence provided by convicted murderer Dexter Isaac that he was one of the parties that robbed and shot the late Tupac Shakur in November 1994.
Isaac, who is currently serving a life sentence of murder, wrote a one page confession to AllHipHop.com detailing the infamous robbery at Quad Studios in Manhattan. Isaac claims he was paid $2500 by Jimmy “Henchmen” Rosemond for the crime. Shakur would later accuse Henchman and other well-known members of the NY Hip-Hop scene with being complicit in the shooting, including former close friends The Notorious B.I.G. and Sean “Diddy” Combs.
Shakur’s feud with Bad Boy Records and other prominent rappers would continue until his 1996 murder in a still-unsolved Las Vegas Strip shooting.
Rosemond is wanted for unrelated cocaine conspiracy charges. His attorney, Jeffrey Litchman, released a short statement refuting Isaac’s claims as a last-hope attempt to lower his sentence.
“This is not him being a good soldier or clearing his conscience. It’s a desperate 17-year-old attempt to reduce his sentence,” he stated.
At press time, New York detectives are planning to meet with Isaacs to verify his story.
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Gangsters and the music industry have had a chaotic marriage going back to the Mafia in the 40 and 50s. The Hip-Hop industry is littered with figures that sought to ”legalize” or front their street hustles through music. The problem has always been that some of these figures also bring the violence from the streets with them. It’s got them this far, so many don’t feel the need to change. With Shakur’s shooting, it’s a case of how deep does the rabbit hole go? Did Pac wrongly assume Biggie and Diddy knew beforehand about the setup? Was Bad Boy truly being extorted by street figures Pac named like Henchmen and Haitian Jack? Does Dexter Isaac have the answer to all these questions, or is he simply a man trying desperately to reduce his prison sentence or get attention?
The most interesting thing about that confession is Isaacs taunting Henchmen about if he’ll give up Diddy now that he’s facing serious time. That implies Diddy’s involvement in the Quad shooting. I’ve spoken to Diddy on a few occasions and don’t have a bad word to say about him. Nonetheless, I’m not naive. He’s employed Crips before for protection (which some theorize may have led to Biggie’s death), and had men like Anthony “Wolf” Jones on his payroll (the man most believe killed Suge Knight’s best friend Jake Robles at a 1995 party in Atlanta). The main difference between Suge and Diddy is that Combs was much smarter and never glorified or put his street ties on front street. As he said numerous times about his company, “Bad Boys move in silence.” These ties are likely the reason Pac blasted Bad Boy on “Hit ‘Em Up” by stating “fuck Bad Boy as a staff, record label and a motherfucking crew,” the last part “crew” implying the street element in the company.
While it would be great for the families and fans of these artists to get closure, I doubt we’ll get anything conclusive. Only those involved truly know went on. The rest of us are left to speculate with theories that try to sift through the heresy, rumors and other assorted disinformation.
Lil Kim’s Hard Core was a monster debut. The Queen Bee’s album went double platinum off the strength of two catchy singles (“No Time,” ”Not Tonight Remix”), raunchy sex appeal and Biggie’s writing. Another important aspect was the production which sprinkled hard, menacing rhythms amongst Kim’s more radio accessible tracks. The hardest beat, “Queen Bitch,” came from two members of Diddy’s original Hitmen stable — Nasheim Myrick and Carlos “6 July” Broady. They got their hands on Roberta Flack’s 1969 album First Take. The duo’s ingenuity is evident when you listen to Flack’s ”Hey, That’s No Way to Say Goodbye.” Buried deep in the song are inconspicuous notes from a piano solo that was amplified for Kim’s pseudo-feminist street anthem. Ms. Flack did publicly cosign the Fugee’s “Killing Me Softly” remake, but something tells me she might be a little bit more taken aback by this interpretation of her work.
(SAMPLE AT 1:52 MARK)
LIL KIM “QUEEN BITCH”
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BIGGIE ORIGINAL
One of the quickest ways to draw a rapper’s wrath is to have equipment malfunctions mess up their stage show. The late Notorious B.I.G. and Big Kap found themselves in that situation years ago when they performed at KMEL’s 1995 Summerjam. The weather was so hot in Cali for this outdoor event that the actual vinyl records were melting on the turntables. This caused nearly every one of Biggie’s instrumentals to become warped and fizzle out. Biggie recognized this and sought to lighten the mood with some jovial jabs at his DJ, including tossing a water bottle at him. Kap recalled how they shared a laugh back at the hotel.
I’m throwing the records and it’s like, alright, cool we’re going through it. But it’s so hot the heat is actually warping the records. The records is melting! So the records are warping right before me and it’s just like woooommp. And Big looking at me. We had this thing like, every time you make a mistake on stage during the show, you get fined $100. So during the show, Big heard the first womp, and he was like “A hundred dollars!” The record is crumbling up right before my eyes.
So, I go to Big’s room, and I knock on the door. And then he opens the door laughing! And he got a bunch of girls in the room! I’m bashful and I’m like, Yo, I’m sorry, I apologize for all that. He was like, “Man, I knew! I saw those records. I knew it was the sun and all that. But I couldn’t let them think that it was me out there messing up!
Actor Adrien Brody is an avid Hip-Hop head. So much so that when he attended the Academy of American Poets event in NYC last week (April 27), he lauded the late Christopher Wallace as the one of the most influetial poets of his generation. In honor of Biggie’s achievements, the actor performed an acapella version of Biggie’s “Ten Crack Commandments.” For such a formal setting, the crowd appeared receptive to it despite the garish content.
14 years ago today, I said “fuck Hip-Hop.” I was 15 years old, and I had just been woken up by my Mom, who told me it sounded on the radio like something bad had just happened to a prominent Hip-Hop artist. I was still entering complete consciousness when the host uttered the words “We would like to send our condolences to the family of the Notorious B.I.G….” Immediately, a wave of anger, disgust and shame overtook me. Not again. Pac and now B.I.G.?
My Mom looked at me with sympathy. Hip-Hop wasn’t her generation, but she connected with the spirit of the music through its use of samples. She had exposed me to my first Hip-Hop through her vinyl purchases of Run DMC, A Tribe Called Quest, De La Soul and the Fresh Prince. She liked Pac and Biggie, especially the former’s intellect, but couldn’t tolerate a lot of the misogyny prevalent on their albums. Even in her empathy, I could see some disconnect there. She had lived through the losses of musical giants like Hendrix, Gaye and others. But never from them killing each other out in the streets. This was not the Hip-Hop culture she had grown to love.
And was it still the Hip-Hop I loved? Originally, I had taken sides on regional grounds in the so-called “East-West” war. I still loved Pac’s music, but felt he had “betrayed” his origins by turning into a Westside rider and going at so many East Coast rappers. I was a huge B.I.G. fan as well; Ready to Die was one of the soundtracks that symbolized my “innocence lost” and arduous journey from naive adolescent to psuedo-independent teenager. In school, classmates and I would debate who was “right” in the feud and which side would come out the winner. Ironically, we almost never looked at it as who would win a street fight despite the threats included in some of the rhymes. Our debates always focused on who was the better emcee and who would come out on top through the release of better albums. At our core, we still believed this to be entertainment and competition like the old battles.
Ismael AbduSalaam circa mid-90s
When Tupac died on September 13, 1996, it was a rainy day in northern New Jersey. I was dumbfounded. I couldn’t believe that Pac, who always seemed larger than life, was dead. No blaze of glory ending like the movies. No martyr sacrifice like some history revisionists try to claim. For all his potential as a transformative figure, he died slowly, ebbing away in a hospital bed riddled with bullets over a petty gang dispute. I mourned him for that tragedy as did all of Hip-Hop.
Biggie’s death was different. My sadness for Pac was replaced by anger. I thought Pac’s death was the wake-up call and something like that would never happen again. And yet here we were just six months later reliving pain from the nonsensical death of a another young, gifted and black young man. I listened to Ice-T try to play mediator on Hot 97 and assure us that people on the West Coast were not celebrating this death, all the while hearing from other people over there that many felt Biggie “deserved it.” I listened to Grandmaster Flash, one of the architects of this culture, break down and sob on the phone over what he deemed was the loss of the soul of Hip-Hop culture.
Was this the culture I wanted to commit my life to? One that destroys its brightest talents over bullshit? None of us pulled the physical triggers that silenced the lives of Pac and Biggie, but I felt Hip-Hop culture as a whole, from the journalists to radio stations and down to the fans, kept a fire lit that made this happen. Even their music itself sounded different. The song themes and albums titles (Ready to Die, Life After Death) all sounded like a surreal, sick joke. Our culture was not a savior, but another yoke that allowed us to reinforce the stereotypes and oppressions our forefathers fought against. I had had enough.
My “fuck Hip-Hop” phase lasted less than a week. Who was I kidding? You don’t abandon something you truly love…you fight for it. I had to be honest that our culture had been hi-jacked by a bunch of self-perpetuated bullshit, and that was the first step to fixing things. Over that next year, a lot of things happened in Hip-Hop. A few classics dropped in Aquemini and The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill. Black Star dropped an excellent debut. Canibus and LL had a good battle without the extracurricular nonsense. The South got newfound national attention on the back of No Limit. Diddy, then known as Puff Daddy, became a star. Well, about that last point, I never said everything that happened was positive.
Today Hip-Hop is still my mistress. She’s loved and hurt me. March 9, 1997 is one of the more painful memories. Yet, the love has endured since I can remember. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
