Santi White, otherwise known as Santigold, seems like one of those artists that are completely untouchable (think Madonna or Paul McCartney). So when I was told I landed an interview with her, I kind of freaked out. As a female in the music industry, I have mad respect for how she carries herself. She’s strong, capable, fearless and, of course, talented. Her 2008 self-titled debut garnered significant critical acclaim and her stylistic reach won over an onslaught of admirers. After a 4-year hiatus, the Philadelphia-native is back with Master of my Make Believe, another almost genre-less masterpiece. She took a minute to talk to me from her New York City apartment about farts, Martin and the oversexualization of the female pop star. –Kyle Eustice

How did you end up an A&R for Epic Records?

Since high school, I’ve wanted to own a company so I could work on the business side of music. Senior year, I got an internship in Philadelphia at Ruff House Records and then I went to college in Connecticut at Wesleyan and in the summer of freshman year, I interned at Sony/Epic. Two summers later, I ended up taking a full time job at Epic after my junior year. I graduated early. They let me work 3 days a week for the first semester until I could finish and then I took a full-time job. At that time, I was an executive assistant, but this guy I worked with was awesome and asked me what I wanted to do. So he let me be the A&R assistant and he let me sign this girl Reese with a demo deal. I ended up getting disillusioned throughout the whole process. I was there in that capacity for a year and a half, then I realized everything that I tried to get them to sign, they’d be like ‘this doesn’t sound like Puffy [laughs].’ I was like ‘wow this isn’t a creative job at all.’ I started to get disillusioned with the whole business side and politics of it. It was business and money. That wasn’t me. For me, it was the creative part. I realized that I liked writing songs.

Did that experience give you an advantage once you went to the other side?

Well, it was a great experience because I learned a lot about the machine behind the industry. I learned once you make an art, what has to happen to it to make it profitable enough to make a living at it and what the label’s objective is versus the artist’s objective. That way you know how to work together. When someone tells you what you have to do, if you don’t know yourself then you’re going to do whatever he or she says. Knowing that side of the business gave me power and freedom. Although, that was in the late 90’s and everything has changed. More than anything now, that’s just life experience I can draw from.

I was talking to Chuck Treece today and it dawned on me that he was in your first band and produced your first record. I had no idea.

Ahhhh!!  Chuck I will credit for making me start singing myself. It was right after I wrote the Reese record and I was like ‘Chuck, you know I think I want to start my own band.’ He’s like ‘yeah, what kind?’ I said ‘punk new wave. I want you to be in it.’ And I was like ‘I don’t want to do any shows. I just want to make a record. I don’t want to sing in front of other people.’ I was intent on never performing. He’s like ‘we have to do a show Santi.’ I was like ‘no!’ And he said, ‘Santi you cant even do this type of music without performing a show. Punk anything is live.’  So he pushed me to do it and I did it. It was so much fun.

So I hear you’re the type of person who thinks farts are funny.

Oh honey. You have no idea. I have a scatological sense of humor. I’m so lucky. My husband loves it, too. We have a ball about fart jokes. It never gets old. It’s kind of a gross sense of humor. It’s kind of inherited, isn’t it? I have never told this story before publicly [laughs], but when I was little, I had someone come up to me who was like ‘come here, come here. Open your hand.’ I was like ‘what it is?’ and I put out my hand and he put a booger in it!  I couldn’t stop laughing. That’s my sense of humor.

Were you surprised with the success of your debut album? It did phenomenally well.

I was surprised. Because I came up in music through a major label and saw how it was with pop music, I thought I was kind of making music that turned my back on pop music. I thought ‘I’m just making music I like and I don’t care. Maybe they will like it in Europe [laughs].’ You know what I mean? I really had no expectations. I didn’t think it would catch on here at all, but it did. Especially what surprised me was that I got so many compliments from other artists, ones that I really respected. It was a real honor to get acknowledged by artists I held up real high. That was really a wonderful surprise.

You’ve kind of created this whole thing on your own. Is that what the title Master of my Own Make Believe means?

It’s realizing you are the ruler of your reality. Anything that we can envision for ourselves, we can make happen. Any role we can see ourselves in, we can manage. I think that is a really important notion, especially when our world is kind of mess. That’s why you get things like Occupy Wall Street and all of these uprisings. I think people feel their power has been compromised or taken away and we feel like we can’t make a difference, but that’s not the truth. Not just from a political aspect. I wrote that record on a very personal level, too. Being a woman in the industry, I really had to learn how to be a strong, confident leader and really trust myself. I think that’s a really, really important place to be as a creative person. As a business person, you have to trust yourself. So that’s where it came from. It was partly a pep talk title to myself and an inspirational talk to the world.

What do you think of the blatant sexualization of the “pop star?”

I find it very boring to be honest. I grew up in the era of hip-hop and riot grrls. In the late 90’s, we all had baggy clothes and Doc boots. We thought if you wore really tight jeans and tried to be sexy, we would diss that so much. We were like, ‘what a fucking slut [laughs].’ I was watching Martin the other night, you know Martin, right? 

Hell yes, I know Martin.

I got home from tour the other night and it was like 4 or 5 in the morning. I turned on the T.V. and Martin was on. In the episode, Martin was trying to get his own radio show so he had to kiss up to the owner’s wife. She was supposed to be this super hot chick, but would wear super tight latex clothing and show mad cleavage. So Gina showed up with this outfit at Martin’s get-together and he’s so embarrassed. He’s like ‘Gina, cover yourself up! Only guys that are insecure like girls like that’. I was like ‘wow, even Martin back in the day had more sense than everything we have right now.’ What happened to that? Women have totally lost their way. Self-image is at the lowest of all right now. That’s what I don’t like about T.V. It’s all about these terrible reality shows where you can see these monster faces where everybody has injections and plastic surgery and that’s normal. Fake asses, fake boobs, fake everything and then they’re fighting over a man because that’s their only sense of self-worth. We have Billionaire’s Wives, Basketball Wives, New Jersey Housewives, I mean, what are little girls supposed to look up to? It’s unbelievable. Then there are magazines of course, which are all photo-shopped. I hope nobody’s really believing in that because that’s horrible, but I know everybody is. I’ve always had a hard time because I’ve always been kind of a tomboy growing up and I liked doing stuff that the boys did, which is why I think I have done a lot of things that girls normally wouldn’t do. I used to hang out with the rappers and producers and then when I’d tell my girlfriends, ‘let’s start a group,’ they would always flake. They didn’t want to do the hard stuff like get up in the morning to go snowboarding or whatever so I was like, ‘fuck, I guess I’ll just go with the guys.’

Why do you think it’s that way?

I think the problem is that girls are brought up to be accommodating, apologetic and compromising and yielding. In the studio, those qualities won’t get you anywhere. In the studio, I’ve had to take on traditionally male roles by being unaccommodating, unapologetic and confident. Like ‘this is how it’s going to go and if you don’t like it you can leave.’ These things that women are taught won’t get you very far in the world. Unfortunately, women are taught that the only thing they have is their sex appeal and it’s fucking old, I mean how old is that notion? 

I was talking to Chuck D of Public Enemy the other day and I asked him how I could make a difference in the world.

Change starts within each person. That’s what my song “Disparate Youth” is about. Dare to be the one that thinks bigger and wants to make a difference and you will make a difference. 

I know you toured with Bad Brains a few years back. I have a confession. I accidentally called H.R. “Human Resources” during our interview.

He probably didn’t even notice [laughs]. He’s crazy. I went on tour with him in 2001 and I was actually with him on 9-11. He is really a brilliant, brilliant person, but now he’s just so out there that it’s, well, interesting.

DOOMTREE

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN THRASHER, APRIL 2012

Doomtree is one of a kind. The Minneapolis-based hip-hop collective is not only an up and coming supergroup made up of longtime friends, but it’s the name of their record label, as well. Each member is successful in their own right, with solo albums, headlining tours and numerous collaborations under their belts. When they get together, magic happens. Comprised of P.O.S., Sims, Dessa, Paper Tiger, Lazerbeak, Mike Mictlan and Cecil Otter, the seven multi-talented artists bring their individual spark to the stage as they merge their styles into once cohesive force. Doomtree’s most recent studio album, No Kings, hit the shelves this November and will no doubt be making some waves in the underground world. I had a chance to catch up with a handful of them to talk false hopes and dreams. –Kyle Eustice

How do you think hip-hop and skateboarding coincide?

Dessa: Cecil is a really talented skateboarder. P.O.S, Paper Tiger, and Sims skate too. There's an obvious overlap of those cultures; maybe in part because there's a palpable drive toward innovation. I think there's a real love for the underdog in both worlds, too.
Sims: Hard to say exactly. I think that they are both movements started by youths as a way around getting into trouble. They both give kids something positive and constructive to do with their time.
Paper Tiger: I got into hip-hop through skateboarding. Aside from all of the mainstream stuff that was on the radio, everything I learned about music and counter culture came from skateboarding. Everything about who I am today is because I grew up skateboarding.
Mictlan: Hip-hop and skateboarding to me have always coincided aesthetically because they are both direct reflections of youth in America attempting to define themselves through their own original styles and innovations.
P.O.S: The same way hip-hop and punk rock do. You find out about one or the other because of skateboarding. Maybe it’s not just hip-hop necessarily. Music and skateboarding always had a deep connection. Nobody can deny that.

Do you skate? If so, what's your favorite trick or spot to ride?

Sims: I mostly push around these days. So my favorite trick at the moment is Ollie up the curb.
Paper Tiger: I used to skate all the time, however I am getting old these days and don’t get out to skate as much as I would like to. My favorite tricks to watch are the stuff that Chris Haslam or Daewon do. Those guys are crazy creative when it comes to tricks and terrain.
Mictlan: Sometimes yes, I am known to get on a skateboard from time to time. I live in Minnesota. We can't skate year round like kids do back home in California so out here we got places like 3rd Lair, which is a dope indoor spot. When I'm in Cali, the Vans Skateparks are cool to check out and of course, Venice Beach. I grew up around the old Venice and just miss the atmosphere that used to be there. My favorite trick would have to be the GnarGnar Olly Whopper. I still haven't landed that yet. Usually getting on the board and making it from one destination to the other is my most fanciest trick I pull off.
P.O.S: I do skate, but not nearly as well. Heel flips and cruising transitions are fun. I bring a skateboard with me on all the tours. Not super heavy into tricks, but I still like to cruise on a nice day.

As a group, what's your song writing process like?

Dessa: For No Kings, all of us sequestered ourselves in a cabin in the woods. We played beats on repeat--all the emcees pacing and mumbling as they wrote their verses. Several days, a lot of booze, and dozens of sandwiches later, we left with the majority of the record demoed.
Sims: This is interesting because it works differently than it does when any if us are in process for solo material. With this album the producers got together a couple times a week for a month or two and made beats together, collaborating on sounds, layout, sequence and all that stuff. Writing the lyrics for the songs basically worked like this: we'd put a beat on loop and people would start to sketch out ideas. When someone came up with either a concept, chorus or start to a verse we'd decide as a group whether or not that was the direction that particular track should take.
Paper Tiger: Typically it starts with a beat. The producers will pass around beats and the MC's will write to them. It is a simple process, but also very personal. However the making of the "No Kings" record was a bit more collaborative, there was much more creation happening as a group.
Mictlan: On this new Doomtree record No Kings, this is the first time we all got together and wrote 11 out of 12 of the songs together over 6 days at a cabin in Northern Wisconsin. What we wrote in those 6 days is what came out and we made the choice ahead of time that we were gonna stand behind whatever we did.

Do you guys ever clash?

Dessa: Working by committee definitely has its challenges--big decisions are hard to make quickly because everyone's opinion has to be solicited and discussed. That said, we've had remarkably few fall-outs. We genuinely like and trust one another, which is probably more than most businesses can say of their workforce.
Sims: Every family has its moments but we know each other well enough and have strong enough relationships that nothing ever gets out of hand.
Paper Tiger: Of course, in any creative field there are levels of differences.
Mictlan: We go back like rocking chairs. We’re like 2 rear flats on a Cadillac. We've been rapping with each other for like 10+ years. When it comes to our music we're all adults. Creating is supposed to fun. At least that's what we always thought.
P.O.S. No not typically. We’ve been bros and sis for 10 years now. We know how to deal with personalities but were family.

Does this lifestyle ever get overwhelming?

Dessa: Yes, it does. But I want very badly to do this well. And I want to share my work. If those objectives entail some compromises, I'm willing to make them so long as I can retain artistic control and personal integrity. Sounds like a Girl Scout, I know. But it's the truth.
Sims: Touring gets hard but what else would I be doing right now?
Paper Tiger: Every lifestyle can get overwhelming, you just take on what you can.
Mictlan: It can be like Groundhog Day at times. You wake up in a different city doing the same thing.

What do you think is the biggest cliche in hip-hop right now?

Dessa: Posturing
Sims: Blog rapper
Paper Tiger: Money
Mictlan: Swagg, duh.
P.O.S. Money.

Several hip-hop collectives like A Tribe Called Quest and Jurassic 5 have broken up completely because they simply couldn't get along. What do you think it takes to make sure that doesn't happen to Doomtree?

Sims: I don't know. Hopefully everyone stays honest with each other and keep the egos in check. We've known each other long enough know better.
Paper Tiger: It's just a simple matter of being there for people when they need you. We are a family first.
Mictlan: We'll have to mean it more. We'll have to walk the talk. We're just going to have to show our elders and our peers exactly what it means to be rappers and honest professionals who inspire people to do it like us, fairly and equally with our friends and our fans.

What are your hopes for Doomtree?

Dessa: Doomtree is a group of artsy friends who chose to make themselves into a family. Although I hope we all achieve glorious worldly success, in some ways, Doomtree is already doing exactly what it is supposed to. Our lives are all better by virtue of the fact that we're connected to each other.
Sims: One hit wonders
Paper Tiger: It would great if I could do this as my full time job for a while, but other than that, I am really excited about how things have been growing over the years.
Mictlan: Over at Doomtree we have a thing called "False Hopes.” Lucky is for suckers. I just hope people keep listening, man and keep on rocking in the free world and that all that jazz. This is our 33rd release as a label. We have a lot more planned for the future and I consider the past ten years the beginning.
P.O.S: That we can continue to make songs and have a place to out them out both as individuals and as a crew.

What's the biggest lesson you've learned about the industry since you got into it?

Dessa: Professionals who've been in the game for decades still improve as players.
Sims: Don't trust whitey.
Paper Tiger: Haters gonna hate.
Mictlan: No kings. Ever. Or in the timeless lyrics of Q-Tip from A Tribe Called Quest: "Rule #4,080: record company people are shady!"
P.O.S: That’s a good one, Mike [laughs]. Surround yourself with people you trust and will make you work harder.

Das Racist

Daps Talks Fancy Joints and Super Geniuses
By Kyle Eustice

If you’ve heard Das Racist’s 2008 hit single, chances are you’ll never look at a combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell in the same light ever again. The New York City-based indie rappers scored big with a surprisingly catchy song simply titled “Combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell” which was not only extremely witty, but had hidden gems of social commentary scattered throughout. Himanshu “Heems” Suri, Victor “Kool A.D.” Vazquez and Ashok “Daps” Kondabolu are three funny yet refreshingly intelligent dudes brimming with promise. Currently on tour in support of Das Racist’s debut album, Relax, Daps took a minute to talk to me from the lobby of his Chicago hotel.

So you’re having trouble getting into your hotel?
Yeah, we’re lingering in the lobby. Should only be a couple of minutes.
Are you at a Motel 6 or the Ritz Carlton?
[Laughs] We’re in something between a Motel 6 and like, a fancy joint.
Let’s talk about the first single, “Combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell.” While it’s obviously funny, there’s a little social commentary on consumer identity in corporate America, isn’t there?
I don’t think that was in any way intended when the song was made. It was a line from one of Victor’s solo songs under Kool A.D. It also contained the line that ended up being the chorus to the Michael Jackson song.
[Call is dropped] Hello?
Oh no, the phone died? I was babbling. What was the last thing I said? Oh yeah, so the chorus for Michael Jackson and Pizza Hut and Taco Bell both came from Victor’s song. They pulled out that one part and said it over and over again. Then a larger message got attributed to the song which happens all the time. Why is a song any less legitimate or beautiful or interesting if it’s not some stupid blatant bullshit message song that some corny fucking idiot with a guitar made? I’m not going to pretend it was made with that intention.
Why do you think it took off so quickly?
I don’t know. It’s a dumb song, very repetitive and I think this country is pretty dumb. I think a lot of people latched on to the simplicity of the song. They thought it was silly and it’s a fun thing to yell when you’re drinking crappy beer in the middle of America somewhere.
It’s such an obvious thing to kind of wonder about because what a weird concept anyway. I mean, why do you have to combine a Pizza Hut and Taco Bell in the first place?
[Laughs] Yeah, I don’t think the depressing aspect of that got lost on everybody. It’s a miserable, miserable thing.
Humor clearly plays a pivotal role in your music. Do you think some of that has been lost in mainstream hip-hop?
It’s weird because a lot of the personalities are insanely huge. I mean, not insanely, but they are jovial dudes. Rick Ross is really a funny dude. I don’t think a lot of people want that or at least that’s not how things have been for a period of time. And people just listen to what’s on the radio, essentially. In the early 90s and shit, there were a lot more opportunities to be funny.
Speaking of, have you seen the Beats, Rhymes and Life documentary about A Tribe Called Quest?
Nah, not yet. People ask us that all the time. I should probably watch it.
Yeah, it’s time to watch that. They kind of cover some of that. They were considered weird, eccentric people, but they did their own thing and it worked. People liked it. You guys have a little of that going on.
True. I think a lot of it is tied into the fact that the majority of people, at least those with the purchasing power, that are white Americans or whatever, they wanted a certain depiction of African American life and a certain type of African American art that falls into old roles of machismo and depicting urban poverty. When they see these alternative depictions, I don’t think they’re interested because it’s not the image they want to buy into. That’s why we’ll see white kids at our shows kind of like, you know, fronting and insinuating that we’re cornballs and white. And I’m like ‘you’re white, you’re actually white! I could beat the shit out of you and I know like drug dealers, too and shit. ‘ [Laughs]
Kind of like you know people who will kill people for fifty dollars? [Laughs] Das racist!
Yeah, exactly [laughs].
I feel like underneath all of the jokes, there’s a lot of intelligence brewing in your lyrics. Are you guys some super geniuses?
[Laughs] Uh, you’re pretty funny. I think we’re pretty well-read. I don’t know. I sat around a lot and these dudes went to college. I sat around for 5 years reading and doing weird shit in New York because I didn’t go to school. There was a lot of time when I did that instead of working.
I feel you. I’m trying to do the whole freelance writer thing. I mean I am working, but my parents don’t see it that way.
[Laughs] I know how that is.
If Das Racist could say one thing about society, what would it be?
Take it easy.
Your music has been described as “sawing the legs of off hip-hop.” Can you elaborate on that?
Someone had written that about us. I think we generally don’t like making large statements about hip-hop and our role in hip-hop plus that’s insane and no one knows who we are anyway.
[Laughs] Yeah, right.
I think whoever wrote that was saying we were just big goofs in the beginning and we were trying to make some kind of commentary about hip-hop in our music and they thought it was refreshing. But, I don’t like this whole idea that we’re coming in, looking around and mocking things. It’s just not accurate and not true at all. We’re just rap fans that like rap and we happen to be funny ass dudes and shit. In the age of the internet, things happen exponentially fast, I suppose, so it takes much less time for a reaction to happen. To get a comedic response takes 3 or 4 days.
You just answered one of my questions kind of inadvertently about how big of a role the internet plays in making an artist successful.
Oh yeah, it’s everything. It’s insane. I mean Odd Future wouldn’t exist without the internet. Those dudes blew up in less than a year. We’ve met Tyler once and those kids are going insane.
I think that when you get so famous so fast, you can sometimes be really unprepared and it’s a little challenging.
Definitely.
How was it to collaborate with El-P who has kind of a dark overtone to his material?
It’s funny we have a mutual friend, Alex Despot. He was on Def Jux for awhile. Eventually, he thought our shit was great. We started hanging out and we’re all from New York and I had been listening to El-P’s shit for a long time. We went over to his house and we had similar senses of humor.
So El-P’s a funny guy?
He’s a mad funny guy, oh yeah. ‘Dark ‘ is kind of corny or it sounds kind of pretentious. Whenever I think of the word ‘dark,’ I think of someone British, I don’t know why.

Atmosphere

Sean Daley, more commonly referred to as Slug of Atmosphere, is at a place in his career where he can relax, at least a little bit. The Minneapolis-based emcee, songwriter and co-founder of Rhymesayers Entertainment has “made it.” Along with producer Anthony “Ant” Davis and several other key players, he’s made a permanent imprint on the hip-hop community. After two decades in the business, a slew of successful albums, an arsenal of adoring fans and sold-out tours, Atmosphere is at the forefront of underground music. After all, the Rhymesayers label is almost synonymous with hip-hop, especially in the Midwest, and that’s no easy task. It’s always West Coast this or East Coast that, but thanks to the roster of talented artists such as Brother Ali, Eyedea and Abilities, P.O.S. and, of course, Atmosphere, Rhymesayers is an impenetrable Midwest empire. Currently on “The Family Vacation Tour” with Evidence and Blueprint, Daley had a second to discuss everything from online chess to his top five favorite albums.

Your lyrical content seems highly personal. Do you ever feel like you’re revealing too much?

Sean Daley: Nah, because it’s all fictional.

Really? There’s some autobiographical stuff in there, though.

I mean, no more than any book you read. It’s coming from your hand, your mouth, your eyes, but it’s not like any of those stories were truly autobiographical. They’re used to exemplify the struggle or dichotomy between the genders. Honestly, half the time I was using that gender struggle as a metaphor for how I saw other things. Anybody that thinks I had a girlfriend who was as hard to deal with as Lucy is ridiculous. I had 15 girlfriends that were as hard to deal with as this character, Lucy. I stopped doing fictionalizing in the first person awhile ago. There are two songs I did that are incredibly autobiographical while on past albums like God Loves Ugly, all the songs were metaphors. I adhered to go first person with those two particular songs, but everything else I went narrative all the way.

Who or what influenced you to start making music?

I don’t know. I had an aunt that wasn’t that much older than me that spent a lot of time at my house. Just seeing the way she reacted to certain albums or artists and the fact I thought she was super-cool because she was a teenager and I was a younger kid probably had an impression on me, and that made me want to have something to do with making people react to me the same way I saw her react to Prince. Then the fact that I just loved rock and I’ve always been an attention-seeker.

What made you come out from behind the turntables?

I just wasn’t progressing as a DJ. I started DJ-ing in ‘87. I learned how to transform and I didn’t really progress beyond that. When people started doing flairs and shit, I was just like, ‘I don’t care about that fancy shit.’ I just wanted to blend and stuff. So I figured I would just chill and rap.

Where did the Slug moniker come from?

Oh, it got shortened from Slug-O. That got shortened from Little Slug-O, which was my nickname as a kid.

Did you think Rhymesayers Entertainment would be the empire it is today?

Yes. I was confident in the people. I knew Brother Ali would be great. I knew Eyedea would be great. I didn’t’ know how that was going to happen, but I was confident in the artists.

What are some of your observations on hip-hop today?

I don’t have any complaints. I’m too old to complain about hip-hop. There’s so many more important things to complain about. I mean, the shit I see on CNN makes me cringe. The things that go on in the entertainment world are funny to me. Everyone is so fucking insecure about their place, ya know? It’s like the backpackers bitch about the mainstream because the backpackers are broke. The mainstream bitches about the backpackers because the mainstream is afraid they won’t be respected in five years. Fuck both sides. Fuck the underground. Fuck the overground. Fuck the middle ground. It’s just a bunch of fucking people trying to find their fucking identities. Once you get comfortable with who you are as a person, you’ll stop complaining about all of that other dumb-ass shit.

Do you believe that comes with age?

Yes, I think it does.

Name your top five favorite albums. Go!

It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back by Public Enemy, Fear of a Black Planet by Public Enemy, To the East Blackwards by X Clan, One for All by Brand Nubian and Death Certificate by Ice Cube.

How do you feel growing up in the Midwest influenced your musical style?

I think most of us in the Midwest kind of became sponges. The East Coast, West Coast, the Geto Boys- we absorbed everybody and so we’re kind of a mishmash of all of that. You can hear a little bit of Nas and KRS One in us. You can hear a little bit of Ice Cube and Digital Underground in us. It’s like we sound like all of our influences.

What does the music you make mean to you on a personal level?

I guess for the most part it’s like a ritual you do to give back to the people who gave it to you. Aside from the fact that we built a business out of it, we’ve turned it into a vehicle for other people to share their stuff. It all come down to this - it’s guided by the governor in me that wants to make sure I give back like KRS and Rakim did to me.

As a human being, how does it feel to be in the position of selling out shows and having thousands of fans who idolize you? Is that kind of a weird feeling?

I stay pretty detached from how many shows I sell out or how many units I move. I focus on the fans and try to be as personable as possible because I understand that’s what they’re here for. At the end of the day when I go back to my house, I don’t think about this shit.

So how do you unwind?

I play online chess. [Laughs.]

What is the most important lesson you’ve learned over the past two decades?

It definitely isn’t anything I learned in the music business. It’s pay attention to how and why you choose to self-medicate.

I feel you there. So how do you self-medicate these days?

I play online chess.

No yoga?

[Laughs.] No, not yet. It’s not trendy enough yet. I’ll do yoga, get a dog and play Frisbee soon, though.

One more generic question: What are the best and worst aspects about touring?

Trying to maintain a healthy day-to-day lifestyle from sleep to food to exercise. That’s easily the worst. The best is the constant distractions when you’re on tour. You don’t get bored. There’s always something to play with and something to do.

I’ve seen you several times, and onstage, you seem like a natural-born emcee. You make it seem so effortless.

You got this all from seeing me perform?

Yes. [Laughs.] It seems easy for you. Do you feel you were just born with this gift or did it evolve from experience?

I’m sure it came with practice and experience. I don’t know too many natural-born emcees. Most of them are practiced emcees. The only person I would say I’ve seen or heard that I would say are natural born emcees are KRS, Nas and Rakim. Everyone else has practiced a lot and cares about their craft a lot.

Best collaboration you’ve done?

I don’t know who. I love making music with Brother Ali and Murs - that’s it. Everybody else I just like.

If you could work with anybody alive or dead, who would it be?

The Fat Boys

[Laughs.] Would you rock the gold chain?

Fuck, yeah!

Grieves/Budo

Rapper Grieves (real name Benjamin Laub), has been reporting live from the grind for the past several years as an opening act for fellow Rhymesayers notables such as Atmosphere and P.O.S. The Seattle native released 2007’s Irreversible on his own, then teamed up with producer, friend and multi-instrumentalist, Budo, for 2008’s 88 Keys and Counting. They have rarely been apart since. The duo’s latest effort, Together/Apart, is a well-written narrative set to Budo’s signature, multifaceted beats. Grieves recently took a break from his first headlining national tour to talk with me.

The last time I saw you, you were opening for P.O.S. in Albuquerque. What is it like headlining your own tour this time around?

Grieves: It’s cool. For us, it’s been a test to see what we’ve been building up over the years by opening up for Atmosphere, P.O.S. and all that stuff. It’s been a way for us to see firsthand the work we’ve done, so it’s cool and very flattering. We’ve spent several, several years putting in a shitload of work, some it counterproductive, some of it really good. The past two years have been really good work. So, uh, it’s really gratifying to get out here and see these crowds we’ve really been working for.

Is there any new pressure now that you’re the headliner?

Yeah, it’s different. You want to do good because with the responsibility of the headliner comes stuff like paying a sound guy, a manager, a merch guy, and I want to be able to pay everybody so they can afford to do this as a living as much as I can.

How did signing with Rhymesayers come about?

When I decided to move on from what I was doing, I ended up on the phone with Siddiq [Rhymesayers’ CEO] and talking about what my options were as an independent artist and the time that I had wasted, the time I wanted to make up for and what I could do. One thing led to another, and we started talking about what it would be like for me over at Rhymesayers, and in came the negotiations.

What do you mean when you say you “wasted time”?

I spent a year or two of my life doing some counterproductive stuff. It wasn’t a happy time for me. At the time when I went over to Rhymesayers, that was the turnaround. It was where I started to do things for me, stuff that made me a lot happier. And I love this experience.

So you turned a new leaf with the signing?

Definitely.

How do you feel about being compared to Atmosphere?

I don’t really get it, to be honest. I think the closest thing we have in common is I’m on his label, but I think we make much different music. We both make honest music, but I don’t think my records sound anything like Atmosphere records. That’s also from the perspective of I’ve been listening to Slug’s records for years, and I really don’t see the comparison, but there are worse things to be compared to. He’s an amazing artist, so I’ll take it! Thank you.

How tired are you of hearing the word “emo” attached to your music or other artists on Rhymesayers?

I think it’s stupid. I think that word comes from people that are fu*king idiots. Like, are you going to call Al Green ‘emo?’ Is a grown man being honest about his situations and his feelings ‘emo'? No. If you think it is, you’re an idiot.

[Laughs.] I’d have to agree with you there. In the sea of rappers today, how are you unique?

There are a shitload of rappers out there, but I don’t concern myself with the things that rappers do or that whole lifestyle. I don’t even listen to that much hip-hop. I just think if an individual makes good music, they stand behind what they do and believe in what they do, I think that will stand out to people. Especially for the people that purely enjoy listening to music. That’s what both Budo and I do. When we sit down to make a record, we craft these songs and put everything into it. For me, it’s not like, ‘yo, I’m gonna kick some raps, sling some beats and write some raps over this shit.’ We talk about song structure and building these things into the masterpieces we want them to be. It goes so much more than kicking a couple of phat flows. [Laughs.]

That’s true with performing live as well. How do you and Budo make sure there is energy in your sets?

That’s easy. Gasoline and a lighter. [Laughs.]

How do you and Budo play off each other onstage?

Budo plays a lot of instruments during the set just like he does on the record. What we do is almost re-create the songs onstage. Rather than rehearsing or reciting the songs onstage, it’s more like we’re re-creating them onstage. So the energy is there just for that moment.

How were you feeling the day Together/Apart dropped? Were you nervous?

Oh, yeah, we were both nervous as shit. We were overworked and tired as hell. We had been awake for three days. They put us on this crazy press junket where we put the record out in Seattle, played a release show the night before, hopped on a plane at 5 a.m. the next morning, flew out to Minneapolis, did a release show there, then hopped on a plane at 6 a.m. and flew out to New York, did some press, then did another release show in Union Square, then hopped on a plane at 6 a.m. the morning after that and went to Dallas to start the Warped Tour. So by the time we got to Texas, I think we forgot what our own names were. We just put out the greatest achievement of our lives. Then we went on the Warped Tour, which was amazing, but it was a grind and it was a hustle. It was very far removed from our core fanbase. We had people buying the album and kind of building that momentum, but we were a little removed from it. The reality is right now with this headlining tour is really the first time we are really getting in touch with our core fanbase and the folks that went out the day it came out. Some of that delayed gratification is hitting us right now. It didn’t diminish over the past few months. It kind of grew in force, so I’ve been forced into being patient to get our dessert.

It’s got to be a pretty surreal experience. It must be pretty crazy to have all of these fans screaming for you.

It is crazy, but it’s good. It makes them happy and it makes us happy. It’s a symbiotic circle of smiles.

You mentioned you don’t listen to much hip-hop, so what do you listen to these days?

I’m a Motown and neo-soul kind of guy lately. I’m getting in touch with my sexy, girl!

You’re predicted to be a breakout star this year. Is there any pressure there?

Nah, nah. I don’t say that with a sense of ego, I don’t really care whatever label gets attached to us. We’re out here making music and connecting with fans. There’s an organic community of people that’s growing bit by bit, and that’s what we’re dedicated to doing. We’re not really interested in being break-out artists and some level of mediocre rise to fame. We’re interested in engaging in what we've been engaging in for the past few years, which is a slow steady build based on building a community of people that will go to a show, buy a T-shirt or get a record.

So you’re more concerned with longevity?

100 percent. Yo, yo, yo, yo!! Sorry, we just hit a tree with the van. [Laughs.]

Occupational hazard?

[Laughs.] Yes. But, hey, we really do appreciate what we’re able to do.

Explosions In The Sky

Explosions in the Sky's self-described "cathartic mini-symphonies" are built from a brave vision. Rather than appoint a frontman to lead the group, all four members carry equal weight in the creation of their intricate, experimental music. The Austin-based group, composed of guitarists Munaf Rayani and Mark Smith, bassist Michael James and drummer Chris Hrasky, just released its sixth studio album, Take Care, Take Care, Take Care, which debuted at No. 16 on the Billboard 200. Hrasky took a break from a sound check the other day to talk to me about Austin, accusations of being unpatriotic and doing the music for Friday Night Lights.

What led you to become an all-instrumental band?

Hrasky: When we first started playing together, which was in spring of 1999, at the time we were listening to a lot of Mogwai and Dirty Three. They were pretty big influences on us at the time. Here are two bands that are really able to make evocative music, rock music essentially without vocals. We were pretty intrigued by that. Also, we kind of liked the idea that there wasn't sort of the main guy that was dictating the direction of the songs, band or music. It seemed to be a way to make it more of a full collaboration between the four of us. It's worked out really well. It's been frustrating but also ultimately made us want to do it.

What's been frustrating?

Working on music where there isn't sort of the main guy controlling the situation is tough. We are all different people with different opinions and different tastes trying to all make something we feel strongly about. That's always going to be a frustration for us, but it works in the end. We come up with stuff that we all really love. That can make the whole writing process stressful, though, I suppose.

Is it hard to translate the studio material to a live setting?

It's pretty natural for us. With the stuff on the new record, it's been a little more of a weird transition just because there's a lot more going on (more layers, samples and all sorts of crazy stuff), so we had to figure out how to pull that off live. All the other records are sort of just us setting up in a room and playing. They're more traditional studio records.

As the drummer, do you feel that your role is even more important because you're an instrumental band?

It's a lot more of an interesting role, rather than just keeping the rhythm. It's much more a musical instrument, if that makes any sense. The drums are as important as the other pieces. It's something that we all kind of talk to each other about. I will talk about ideas for the guitar and vice versa. They will tell me how the drums should come in. We all recognize the importance of each part.

So it's kind of like you are all equals, essentially?

Yes, very much so.

Considering that the 10th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks just passed, do you think all of those silly rumors about you being linked to the attacks will resurface? [The band had coincidentally released an album called Those Who Tell the Truth Shall Die, Those Who Tell the Truth Shall Live, a few weeks before the 9/11 attacks. The album art included a plane and a liner note that read, "This plane will crash tomorrow." Controversy and conspiracy theories ensued.]

We played in Boise on September 11. There was already something stupid there, a sign up at the theater. There was a new story about it on the Internet. You see stuff like that and you're like, "Why is this person writing this article? This is so dumb." First of all, Explosions in the Sky is fireworks on the Fourth of July. That is directly where the name came from. You can't get more patriotic than that. We're hoping it doesn't become something. Most people's reactions were, This isn't a news story. This is just ridiculous. This is just a band playing a show.

You've done music for television shows and movies. Is it weird having executives with so much control over the process? How was your experience?

We had a great experience. We did all the music for Friday Night Lights, so we were in the studio for six weeks exploring. We thought it was going to be the kind of thing where there were producers breathing down our necks and telling us, This is right, this is wrong, but it really wasn't like that at all. The director would come in every once in a while and sort of talk about what felt right and what didn't. That was fine. He's the director. It's his project. We're essentially working for him. We didn't have people coming in and telling us what to do. We were left alone, which was kind of amazing. I think that had a lot to do with the music supervisor of the movie. He really liked our stuff, and he had a lot of clout at the time because he had just done the music for Lost in Translation. And that blew up, so he could kind of use that to talk to the executives. Like he could be the hip, cool guy. And it worked.

What can one expect from your live show?

We just try to put as much as we can into it. Nothing is worse than paying for a band that looks like they're just cashing a check or are bored. I hate that so much. It's like, You get to go play music for a job. Work a little harder, buddy. [Laughs.] We play as hard as we can. The four of us try to get lost in the music, and hopefully the audience gets engaged. This is what we do for a living, and we realize how lucky we are. This is not a normal situation for most people. It's a pretty great job to have.

THE STROKES

THE MANY LAYERS OF JULIAN CASABLANCAS
It is hard to believe that nearly a decade has passed since The Strokes first burst out of New York City with its lo-fi garage rock that ignited a mini-resurgence of the genre. Its 2001 debut album, Is This It, was met with colossal amounts of critical acclaim and consequently sold over 3.5 million copies worldwide. Lead vocalist Julian Casablancas, drummer Fabrizio Moretti, guitarist Nick Valensi and bassist Nikolai Fraiture truly lived the “rock star” lifestyles which quickly wore off until they eventually entered a much needed hibernation in 2006.
“I don’t remember those days so well. You know, too much drinking. I wish I could go back. Wait, actually I don’t,” Casablancas confesses. “It was silly. I remember the hangovers more. It was fun, but honestly I’m having more fun now.”
Suddenly, Casablancas found himself venturing into the wavering sea of solo artists and, to his astonishment, liked what he discovered- not only about his eclectic musical style, but the entire recording process. His 2009 debut solo album, Phrazes for the Young, is a huge departure from The Strokes’ sound and melodiously all over the place. There are more electronic influences and polyrhythmic sounds (think Hot Chip) that capture his obvious curiosity about the depths of his musical ability. He even did a track with N.E.R.D.’s Pharrell Williams and Santigold called “My Drive Thru.” Clearly, the rock -n- roll aficionado was the odd man out as Williams’ futuristic take on production and Santigold’s genre-jumping savvy made more sense, but the oddness worked. The track was a definitive statement that, yes, Julian Casablancas is capable of a wide range of musical styles.
“I wanted the record to be good. I’m a mix of confidence and self doubt. I have basic human feelings,“ Casablancas says. “A different part of me felt confident and that I could do something cool on my own. I was a little worried, but once I was done I thought this is cool. Even if people hated it, I was still proud of it.”
Casablancas secretly recorded a few of the tracks at the Mike Mogis/Conor Oberst-owned ARC Studios in Omaha while the rest of the album was laid down in Los Angeles. His experience in Nebraska was another pleasant surprise considering he had no idea what to expect.
“Omaha was kind of rad. I didn’t know much about it. I pictured the cover from Bruce Springsteen’s Nebraska with a grey prairie and lots of barren land, but Omaha was hip,” Casablancas says. “If you grow up anywhere like in Iowa or Nebraska and you want to go to a hip city, you go to Omaha.”
On tour in support of Phrazes for theYoung, Casablancas is by no means saying goodbye to The Strokes, in fact he wrote most of his solo material thinking it would be for the next Strokes record. The boys had planned to release a fourth album in late 2009, but ‘disagreements’ over which tracks were ready has delayed the process. The postponement will inevitably just generate more anticipation.
“That momentum we had at the beginning is very arguable. We regained a lot by being away. At the time, the vibe was like ‘enough of you guys.’ I was actually sick of us,“ he confesses. “I didn’t feel like we were moving up. It felt like we were just staying there laterally. Our offers are better now than five years ago.”