Translator’s Note: Written by Minako Ikeshiro for bmr (Black Music Review) in an May 2001 magazine issue number 273. Originally written in Japanese; translated into English for publication. All rights reserved.

The massive success of The Writing’s on the Wall propelled Destiny’s Child into supergroup status. But having scored hits with “male-bashing songs” and weathered two lineup changes, they are now as much targets of criticism and ridicule as they are the talk of the town. Just before the release of Survivor, what does Beyoncé, the hardest-working woman at the center of it all, have to say?

“Being strong and positive is what Destiny’s Child is about.” How’s that for an opening statement? After being stood up four times, the interview that finally materialized was a ten-minute, Beyoncé-only session. A far cry from the early summer of 1999, when an entire day had been set aside for Japanese press. “No, No, No, Pt. 1” was the hit, and the self-titled debut album had reached gold in 1998. “We want to get it to platinum so badly,” she’d said at the time, eyes shining. As of March 2001, The Writing’s on the Wall has sold over ten million copies worldwide. It hardly needs emphasizing, but they are no longer just an R&B group; they are a supergroup representing America. They’re discussed in the same breath as Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera as part of the teen sensation wave.

I asked Beyoncé to analyze the key to their success.

“To have sold over ten million copies worldwide, I feel very fortunate. I’m happy, I’m excited, and I’m astonished. I also think it’s the result of working our hardest. We can feel ourselves progressing.”

In that time, you’ve gone from R&B idol group to national superstars. You also seem to have grown from “girls” into “ladies.” Are you enjoying where things are now?

“Of course. We debuted when we were fifteen, and now we’re eighteen to twenty. And I think it’s wonderful to be able to share our experiences with others through writing and producing. I tried my hand at producing on ‘Jumpin’, Jumpin’‘ and ‘Independent Women Pt. 1,’ and I did a lot on this album too. If you listen to the album, you should be able to hear that we’ve grown. If you want to know us, listen to the new record. We’re singing about things we’ve experienced with family and friends, things from being on tour.”

If there’s something difficult behind the success, what would it be?

“It really is incredibly tough. We’ve been working nonstop and haven’t been home, and for the next two months there’s no time off at all. I’m grateful for the success, but there isn’t even time to savor it or spend the money we’ve earned. We travel the world, but the schedule is so grueling there’s no room to look around. Sometimes that makes me sad, but it’s still much better than never having the chance to go anywhere. When I look at the big picture, the downsides are nothing.”

The big picture. Every single cracks the charts. They sweep the Grammys and every other award. They grace the covers of the biggest magazines. They’re called “the next Supremes.” The first single from the previous album, “Bills, Bills, Bills,” and the third, “Say My Name,” became the defining pop songs of 1999 and 2000. Then, as if to seal the deal, “Independent Women Pt. 1,” the theme from the blockbuster Charlie’s Angels, became a massive hit. That song must have been a crucial turning point, proving the new three-member Destiny’s Child could hold their own.

I’ve been running through all this like a record-label press sheet, but to be honest, as one of many Destiny’s Child fans and observers, there’s also a part of me that thinks, “What’s the deal with the current lineup, though?” LeToya and LaTavia were great too. When different members suddenly appeared in the “Say My Name” video, I felt a pang of resentment. And yet, the sheer coolness of the three of them kicking their legs up in the “Independent Women” video was undeniable. Every time it came on TV, I stopped what I was doing and stared at the screen. “Undeniable.” That’s probably the prevailing feeling toward the current Destiny’s Child, who radiate an overwhelming brilliance even as they take fire that borders on outright bashing.

Which makes it hard to harbor negative feelings toward Beyoncé, Kelly, and Michelle, who are apparently nineteen and twenty years old and working like draft horses with no time to sleep. Hard, but it’s also true that there are elements, starting with the repeated lineup changes, that can’t help but be taken negatively. So even though it feels like tabloid reporting and I’m reluctant, let me briefly address that side of things. The current members’ account of the lineup changes was covered extensively in Vibe, so I won’t repeat it, but the departed members’ perspective appeared in Sister 2 Sister, a magazine with its own tabloid leanings, so I’ll summarize. According to LeToya and LaTavia’s interview in the June 2000 issue, they didn’t quit; they were fired, and they learned of it in writing at almost the same time they saw two new members in the “Say My Name” video.

Their conflict wasn’t with Beyoncé and Kelly but with management, specifically Beyoncé’s father, Mathew Knowles. “The finances were opaque, and every time we pushed for a review of the contracts we’d signed at age nine, it became a problem.” As for LeToya, she had reportedly “been told she was fired five times,” suggesting the relationship had seriously deteriorated. Before its debut, Destiny’s Child had a female manager named Andretta Tillman alongside Knowles; the debut album carries a dedication to her. After Tillman passed away from bronchitis shortly before the group’s debut, Knowles took full control of the group, and Beyoncé’s mother took over all styling duties. Losing Andretta Tillman may have been an especially unfortunate turn of events for LeToya and LaTavia. That said, it’s also true that Knowles had been organizing training camps and looking after the girls as a trainer since they were in elementary school (as mentioned in our previous interview), and Kelly told MTV, “Mr. Knowles sold his house and cars to support us before we made it.”

During our previous interview, when I’d spent an entire day with the group, there were moments when LaTavia and LeToya lost focus. When I relayed to Beyoncé my impression that “there seemed to be a gap in professionalism between the members who left and the two of you,” she responded:

“That’s exactly right. A lot of people said the same thing. My and Kelly’s professionalism was different from theirs. We’re willing to make any sacrifice for success. I’m not going to knock anyone else’s approach, but we don’t need to get dragged into it, either. You can do whatever you want, but I don’t want people around me who aren’t motivated. Or people who think negatively. A lot of things happened, but people still accept us, and we keep selling hundreds of thousands of copies. Everyone approached this album with the same level of commitment, so I can say our situation has gotten much better. A weight has been lifted off my shoulders, and I can focus on the creative side, producing and writing. Other producers must find it easier dealing with the whole group through one person rather than separately with each member. You can hear it in the music; it’s much more cohesive. And in our performances and interviews, you should be able to feel that everyone has the same level of professionalism.”

A forceful statement. She arguably didn’t need to speak this harshly about departed members, but considering the ferocious attacks Beyoncé endured on the internet and in magazine letters pages during the departures, her drive to defend herself isn’t entirely incomprehensible. Farrah, who was in the group for only one stretch, also spoke to Sister 2 Sister, saying, “They changed my name (her real nickname was, of all things, ‘Destiny’), made me tan so Beyoncé would stand out more, dyed my hair. It was really painful.” But regarding Farrah, the current members offered a blunt assessment: “We felt like Farrah wasn’t quite clicking, but we had bigger things going on. She wasn’t committed to the work, and she didn’t make an effort to improve. She went from being a supermarket employee to a superstar, so I get it, but still.” In a group whose motto is winning at all costs, apparently there is no room for anyone who complains.

In any case, the new Destiny’s Child puts Beyoncé front and center. You could say that having the most talented member also be the most beautiful invited all kinds of trouble, and you can also imagine that being childhood friends created a familiarity that made it harder to function as professionals. On The Writing’s on the Wall, every member had writing credits; this time, no names other than Beyoncé’s appear. Her increased focus on producing stands out, though when it comes to other producers, she says, “They just send tracks, so I don’t really know them.” Rodney Jerkins, who helped drive the previous album to massive sales, wasn’t available for scheduling reasons and doesn’t appear this time. In his place, Anthony Dent, Cory Rooney, and others from the same production company are on board. Dwayne Wiggins is the only name that carries over from the first album. Hit-makers who previously contributed, such as Wyclef Jean, Missy Elliott, R. Kelly, and Timbaland, are all absent. In a producer-driven R&B world, that’s a bold move, but it also reflects the fact that the group’s name itself is a more powerful selling point than any producer’s.

I asked Beyoncé about the new album.

“I think last time’s success was partly due to working with new producers, so this time I asked some new people for a few songs. I wrote on both albums, so there’s continuity in that sense, but I wanted the sound to feel new again.”

With such a hectic schedule, how did you find time for the music?

“That was really hard too. I was recording while shooting a TV drama, and there wasn’t a single time I could get into the studio two days in a row. The recording took fifty days, but I was juggling other work and couldn’t focus every day. I had to keep switching from actress to writer to performer, and that was tough. The drama was MTV’s remake of Carmen, with me in the lead. The other members would come to set sometimes too. What makes us completely different from other female groups is how much we support each other. When one person has a job, the others give full support. For example, Kelly did a solo track for the Down to Earth soundtrack, and she personally asked me to produce it. You almost never see members of other groups doing that for each other’s solo work.”

“Brown Eyes” is a gentle love song. Is it addressed to anyone in particular?

“I was in a relationship before. I don’t have a boyfriend now, but when I write love songs, I try to recall the feelings from that time.”

The last album dealt with various relationship situations, especially with a lot of tough talk aimed at no-good men. Did you cover different topics this time?

“The last album definitely had a lot of songs about bad men, but we don’t hate men, and we’re not bashing men in general. We just don’t like bad men. This time there’s other stuff too, songs about surviving difficult situations, love songs. I tried to include a more sensitive side of Destiny’s Child. We’ve shown the strong side plenty, so I wanted to do something new.”

The title Survivor has an intense ring to it, but there’s no question it will be the litmus test for whether the new Destiny’s Child is the real deal. Based on the eight tracks I received before the interview, Michelle’s husky, low voice blends effectively with the similar-ranged voices of the other two, and the early signs are promising. Michelle has said she “aimed to be a team player from the start,” and she seems to have been the right fit for joining a group whose identity and status were already fully established. Beyond Beyoncé, Kelly has shown interest in acting, and there’s talk of solo albums for all three, so the Destiny’s Child offensive looks set to continue for a while.

Over the past year and a half, while conducting interviews with various artists for this magazine, Destiny’s Child was the group that came up the most. Everyone from Kevon Edmonds to India.Arie mentioned them by name. Being on that many lips is proof of how much attention they command, and regardless of individual opinions, when you look at the full landscape across genre and race, it can only be a positive that R&B has produced an icon this powerful. Personally, I’ve grown even fonder of Kelly, who is easygoing and straightforward, and I want to root for all three of them, Kelly and Michelle included, to “survive” as superstars.

Denying the current Destiny’s Child is, indeed, a difficult thing to do.

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Translator’s Note: Written by Minako Ikeshiro for bmr (Black Music Review) in an April 2001 magazine issue number 272. Originally written in Japanese; translated into English for publication. All rights reserved.

Early spring, 2001. Maxwell’s third album Now is about to arrive, and the purpose of this piece is to get an advance look at the full picture of the new record and the man himself before its release, sharing that “we’ve been waiting!” anticipation with bmr’s readers and building the excitement even further. But to show my hand: as of this writing, with Valentine’s Day only just behind us, the only thing I’ve heard is the first single, “Get to Know Ya.” On top of that, the exchange with Mr. Maxwell, who apparently isn’t the biggest fan of interviews, was conducted via email. It’s a method that’s new and novel, sure, but even harder than a phone call when it comes to getting a read on the other person, and I have serious doubts about how well this will satisfy Maxwell fans’ expectations. To offer a bit more in the way of excuses: in the US hip-hop and R&B market, music has increasingly been leaking against artists’ wishes before release, and in the worst cases it ends up circulating as bootlegs. As a result, there’s been a growing crackdown on letting any music out before street date, and the collateral damage has landed on people like me, who have zero intention of profiting beyond a writing fee.

I’m not well versed in the situation in Japan, but if you happen to spot something that looks like a bootleg in a store, please don’t buy it. Refraining is one way of showing your love for the artist.

My apologies for starting with such an ugly, complaint-ridden opening. This is no way to match the beauty of Maxwell, so let me change the tone. When the proposal came from the other side, deep in recording, that they’d prefer to respond to the interview via email rather than by phone, I’ll be honest: a wave of anxiety hit me. (There I go again, back in complaint mode.) But when the forwarded replies to the questions I’d scraped together with my limited brainpower and information arrived and I opened them, my heart did skip. Email is also a slightly private, slightly formal medium. At its root, it’s a variation on the letter. So think of this as an open letter from Maxwell to bmr. Yes, when you look at it that way, it starts to feel special and exciting. (Staying positive, staying positive.)

First, let’s confirm the framework of the new record. From the start of his career, Maxwell has been an artist who generously showcased his talent for writing lyrics and crafting music, along with that falsetto voice. He has credited his work as a creator under the name “MuSZe,” hinting at the presence of a mystical muse within. Another widely known fact is that he brought in Stuart Matthewman, a core member of Sade, as his sole outside producer, in order to complete his art. I asked whether anything has changed on the new album.

Is the new album mostly the work of “Musze” again?

“Yes.”

Does “Musze” have any supporting members? If so, please introduce them.

“For me, God is ‘MUSZE.’ It’s also my own special nickname, the place I’ve been given, my everything.”

Is Stuart Matthewman involved on the new album as well?

His answers, his sentences, are in a sensory kind of English that connects to the world of his lyrics. The grammar might confuse a Japanese exam student (though the problem lies with the absurd rigidity of Japanese entrance-exam English, not with Maxwell, just to be clear). But reading his words over and over, I sensed a beauty hidden in the writing. That beauty comes from Maxwell’s inner world, and from the richness of his sensibility, since writing sometimes reveals a person more than speech does. To convey that beauty on the page as much as possible, I’ve kept the translation close to literal rather than liberal. It may be slightly hard to read, but I’d ask you to slow down for his answers. If doing so brings you into contact with his beauty, that’s all I could hope for.

When writing lyrics, what inspires you the most?

“It depends on the time and the situation.”

What are your usual circumstances when you write lyrics?

“There’s no set method. When something comes, it just comes. I’ve tried to control it more in the past, but I’ve found it works better to surrender to the inspiration when it wells up.”

You studied photography and design. When writing lyrics, do you have specific visuals or images in your mind?

“To some extent, but they’re not especially vivid. When I write, I’m more focused on setting down what I feel.”

What instruments do you use when composing?

“I start with the basics. Piano or guitar.”

On the previous album you used Spanish. Have you expressed your Latin or Caribbean roots this time as well?

“There’s a bit, but not prominently.”

The album title is Now. What kind of era do you believe we’re living in?

“I believe the possibilities are infinite, and the ultimate theme is truth. Cherishing ourselves, and respecting what is different from us. I think we’re living in a truly fascinating time.”

That last response might seem like a mismatch with the question, but I don’t think he misread it. Rather, he was conveying the overarching theme of the album and his message. It’s also the answer that best reveals his character, and it lets you infer that the essence of Maxwell’s music lies in a high spirituality and sharp sensitivity. That, most likely, is the true identity of “MUSZE.” Born in Brooklyn, New York, with West Indian blood including Puerto Rican heritage, he carries within his urbane sophistication a reverence for the primitive and a willingness to follow his emotions honestly. His fondness for the phrase “heart and soul” has a certain naivete that stands apart from the industry at large, a world that prefers to talk about money and chart victories, and it makes perfect sense that he keeps his distance from everyone except Matthewman.

“Get to Know Ya” is a beautiful song. What inspired its creation?

“I met someone who bewildered me in a way I’d never experienced before.”

What was your reaction when you first heard “Fortunate”?

“This is going to work.”

Did you think it would become that big a hit?

“Not especially. I don’t look at things that way. I decide based on whether I like it or not. Hits are unreliable, and having one doesn’t necessarily reflect a person’s talent. Having a hit does generally enable you to keep doing work on an even bigger scale, though.”

Your musical styles are completely different, but when I interviewed R. Kelly, I found he was also an extremely shy person. What was the studio experience like?

“I’ve never met him.”

“Fortunate,” the second single from the Eddie Murphy and Martin Lawrence film Life, remains his biggest hit to date. Given that R. Kelly basically invites artists to Chicago for recording sessions and that Maxwell has never met him, one can imagine Kelly crafted and handed off the song entirely on his own. And for Maxwell, who says the important thing is whether music is “good,” who the producer is probably matters less than how to make a good song his own. And it did, in fact, “work.” Q-Tip once said he was fed up with the trend of everyone judging songs by whether they’re “hot” rather than whether they’re “good,” and if you obsess over making “hot hits,” you’ll literally cool off eventually. Just as Urban Hang Suite still sounds fresh today, I have no doubt that Now will be a work that reflects its own “now” for decades to come. To be alive in a “now” that keeps producing talents like the ones Maxwell mentions is, I sincerely feel, fortunate for all of us.

A number of recently emerged artists regard you as a pioneer. What do you think of Musiq Soulchild, Bilal, and Jill Scott?

“I like and respect all of them. This movement is only going to grow, and the fact that it’s heading in this direction is testament to the heart and soul that lives in everyone.”

The word “testament” also refers to the Bible, and this answer offers a glimpse of his devoutness.

How do you evaluate Sade Adu as a vocalist?

“She’s an original.”

Do you think you’ve been influenced by her?

“Not in any particular way, but her records were the door that led me to meeting Stuart, a person of great influence.”

You’ve newly recorded Kate Bush’s “This Woman’s Work.” Are you drawn to British music?

“I just like ‘good’ music. I don’t much care where it comes from. What matters is whether it has heart and soul, and anyone from anywhere should be able to express that.”

Speaking of Matthewman, how did you find Sade’s new album?

“I love it. I think ‘Every Word’ in particular is a wonderful song.”

Is the theme of the new album love? If there are songs that address topics other than romance, could you tell us about them?

“The subject is always changing; you could say it reflects each moment. Romance is part of it, but my own growth, and having learned to let things roll off even when they don’t go well, has been the driving force this time.”

What’s the biggest difference from your previous two albums?

“I pray there are many differences, but I can’t give a clear answer. I think that’s something better left to the listener’s judgment.”

Do you have any special plans for Valentine’s Day?

“I’d like to.”

You’re regarded as a fashion leader. Who are your favorite designers?

“Right now, more than ever, I’m in the mood for regular clothes being the best.”

A song born from meeting a mysterious woman who rendered all prior experience useless (”Get to Know Ya”), things that didn’t go as planned and could only be let go of... It seems there have been all sorts of developments in his private life, and perhaps he converted those experiences into something positive through his music. According to press materials, this time around the production wasn’t as meticulous as on previous albums; he let things flow. Put differently, the album will probably be one that naturally wears the air in which the music exists. Maxwell’s heart and soul, the Maxwell who confides that “casual clothes suit my mood right now,” are surely packed into Now.

Sidebar: Maxwell’s Style

Atsuko “Akko” Matsuda

When I first saw Maxwell in the video for his debut single “Til the Cops Come Knockin’,” crawling across the floor in his explosive curly hair, a shirt, and slim-fit pants, I was shocked. “A UK singer? Gay?” That was my impression at the time. But Maxwell grew up in East New York, Brooklyn’s infamous ghetto, the same neighborhood that produced Cormega and many other rappers. During his middle and high school years, school and the streets around him must have been wall-to-wall hip-hop. So where did Maxwell’s style come from?

Before he had a record deal, Maxwell first performed at the downtown club Nell’s in 1993. From around 1992 to 1994, house parties in New York were losing steam, and downtown parties that played rare-groove records, like Giant Step and Soul Kitchen, were the main draw. I went to a few myself, and the crowd was mixed-race. I remember people wearing tidy shirts or vintage suits, often with a white tank top underneath, a hunting cap on their head, or their hair pulled back in a bun with a scarf wrapped around it. The fashion leaned toward what you’d see on UK acid jazz musicians. So when a friend of mine, who used to hang out with Maxwell just before he got his record deal, told me Maxwell was a regular at those parties, it all made sense.

According to that same friend, Maxwell was quite particular about his fashion and always looked stylish, so I believe he basically doesn’t use a stylist. With that in mind, if I were to pick my favorite looks from his magazine shoots, videos, and shows, the most striking was from his concert at Madison Square Garden last year. He wore an all-white suit with a white-based knit cap featuring Rasta-color stripes. The other was an official label photo: tightly braided cornrows flat against his scalp, paired with a fitted pinstripe suit. In both cases, he loosened up a sharp suit with his hairstyle or a knit cap, showing a style unique to Maxwell and unlike any other R&B singer. The styling has a UK feel, but as I mentioned, it actually emerged from New York’s downtown party scene. Maxwell’s fashion was, in the end, the ultimate New York downtown style.

II. Caribbean Frequencies in Maxwell’s Music

Michihiko Takahashi

I’m going to deviate slightly from the Caribbean framework right out of the gate and talk about Latin America for a moment.

On the well-known Red Hot + compilation series, one of its strongest entries, Red Hot + Rio, includes a Maxwell track called “Segurança.” As the “+ Rio” indicates, the album is focused on Brazilian music, and it features contributions from PM Dawn with Flora Purim and Airto Moreira, plus names like Money Mark and Caron Wheeler. Even in that company, Maxwell’s original number “Segurança” stands out. It’s not a flashy track by any means. In his usual alluring fashion, he delivers a vocal and arrangement heavily inspired by bossa nova. The song is co-written with Stuart Matthewman, and while you can certainly find a bossa nova sensibility in Sade as well, the key asset on “Segurança” is the presence of guitarist Vinícius Cantuária. A Brazilian musician based in New York and formerly of Caetano Veloso’s band, Cantuária adds a deeply authentic flavor. But authentic as it is, the way the güiro (a small percussion instrument made from a dried gourd with ridges scratched by a stick) and percussion are deployed carries a subtle Caribbean fragrance. Taken as a whole, the song becomes something only Maxwell could have made: a piece of music that is quintessentially New York.

Even tracks that appear simple in structure turn out to be quite intricately layered.

When it comes to Caribbean connections, artists like Ricky Martin, Jennifer Lopez, and Christina Aguilera, squarely in the showbiz lane, may be easier to discuss at this point. Their music puts backgrounds like Puerto Rico or Venezuela right on the surface. But Maxwell, despite being of Puerto Rican descent, never presents his heritage that directly. I get the sense that Roxy Music’s Avalon and Caribbean music have occupied roughly the same distance in his aesthetic world until now.

Looking at tracks from Maxwell’s Urban Hang Suite, “Whenever Wherever Whatever” carries a strong Caribbean scent. It’s not dance music; it’s a simple song backed mainly by a single guitar, but between the Spanish-inflected guitar tone and the vocal itself, you can sense a sabor (flavor) akin to what salsa calls sentimiento. The lyrics are in English, though.

This is all admittedly impressionistic, but as an album, the follow-up Embrya seems more consciously Caribbean in its sound. The percussion resonates differently from the first record, that’s the clearest tell. Following the opening secret track “Gestation: Mythos,” the song “Everything: To Want You to Want” features the same quality, but on “I’m You: You Are Me and We Are You (pt me & you),” sung partly in Spanish, the commitment to percussion becomes even more pronounced.

The new single “Get to Know Ya” is unexpectedly straightforward and pop in its feel, dialing back Maxwell’s usual seductive atmosphere. What’s interesting is that the horn arrangements are unmistakably Caribbean. Others have felt the same way, so this isn’t just my imagination. In fact, beyond the Caribbean, the horns evoke an African group: the groove is reminiscent of the late Franco (the greatest guitarist Africa ever produced) and his Congolese ensemble, simultaneously relaxed and sharp, exquisitely balanced. Embrya had “Arroz Con Pollo,” a track where the horns play a phrase resembling Allen Toussaint’s “Yes We Can Can,” but “Get to Know Ya” pushes that approach a step further.

I still haven’t been able to hear a single track from the new album beyond this one, but there’s a chance the musical direction has shifted considerably. Then again, he’s such an exceptionally stylish artist that the album as a whole might not change all that dramatically. Either way, I’m eagerly awaiting its arrival.

III. Maxwell’s Voice

Hayashi

By the standards of conventional soul and R&B, Maxwell’s vocals are not, strictly speaking, soulful. His falsetto-laced, caressing singing voice sits at the opposite pole from a sweaty, gritty singer like K-Ci, the type who leans on shouts and overpowers you with raw vocal force. And yet his sweet, sensual whisper grips the listener’s ear and doesn’t let go. The persuasive power is more than sufficient.

Sade and Maxwell are frequently compared (or practically equated) in terms of their musicality, not least because of the Stuart Matthewman connection. Sade Adu’s vocals, too, are neither soulful nor particularly virtuosic, yet precisely because of that, they radiate an erotic mystique that draws the listener in like quicksand. Whether or not Matthewman has an affinity for this type of voice is a separate question, but when Maxwell’s or Adu’s vocals dissolve into a mellow track, they don’t just gain in sensuality; they emerge with a three-dimensionality that sends a shiver down your spine.

At its core, Maxwell’s approach centers on a delicate but resilient tenor voice, deftly moving between falsetto and chest voice to enrich his expression. In that sense, he’s very close to Prince. On MTV Unplugged, when he sings Kate Bush’s “This Woman’s Work” in an agonized, transcendent falsetto, the effect is pure Prince. “Lonely’s the Only Company” on Urban Hang Suite carries a similar quality, if less intensely. That said, rather than making a raw emotional appeal through falsetto alone, his vocals, which deploy vibrato to trace delicate emotional terrain, possess something like compassion, a gentleness of manner, a tenderness toward the other person.

That brings to mind the artist whose work is most often cited alongside Maxwell’s (as with Sade): 1970s Marvin Gaye. Whether Maxwell himself acknowledges it or not, the resemblance to Marvin’s restless, wandering vocals on I Want You (1976) and Here, My Dear (1978) is undeniable, including the multitracked vocal layering. The affinity between Maxwell’s work and I Want You in particular, an album on which vocal recording alone reportedly took close to a year, is beyond question. How much time Maxwell spent on his vocal tracks is unknown, but in his singing, with its subtle deployment of a diverse range of voices, one senses, for better or worse, a certain calculated precision.

Come to think of it, El DeBarge, who covered Marvin’s “After the Dance” in 1992, has a naive, delicate vocal style in which the parallels with Maxwell are easy to spot. And both El DeBarge and Maxwell have Hispanic roots, which makes it tempting to dismiss their vocals as “not soulful like other Black singers.” That’s far too reductive, but the fact that Maxwell’s influences don’t come exclusively from Black music is genuinely significant. On MTV Unplugged, beyond the Kate Bush cover, he also tackled a Nine Inch Nails song, making no secret of his rock influences. It’s entirely possible to detect a (white) rock singer element in his vocals. Overlay the voice of someone like Bryan Ferry, a singer influenced by Black music, onto Maxwell’s, and there’s surprisingly little dissonance (a roundabout way of putting it, I know). Of course, Urban Hang Suite also includes “Suitelady (The Proposal Jam),” where he sings raw and rough in a traditional soul style straight out of the Sam Cooke-to-Bobby Womack lineage, and that makes perfect sense too. In any case, Maxwell is an omnidirectional singer, much like the hairstyle on the back cover of Urban Hang Suite. The question now is: what vocal style will he use to speak of his love for women on this new album? I can’t wait to find out.

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Translator’s Note: Written by Akira Obuchi for bmr (Black Music Review) in a February 2001 magazine issue number 270. Originally written in Japanese; translated into English for publication. All rights reserved.

On December 1st, Redman and Method Man performed at the Def Jam Japan launch party, held at Shinjuku’s Liquid Room. They had come to Japan for that single night alone.

The following day, we visited the “bling-bling” suite at a certain top-tier hotel where the two were staying, for our interview. What we found were two guys completely burnt out on press. Redman, paying no attention to the journalists in the room, had his headphones on, listening to an MP3 player and rapping along at full volume (for the record, the lyrics were almost pure wordplay, all rhyme and no meaning, and it was dope). Meth, meanwhile, was quietly absorbed in a handheld computer he’d confiscated from Def Jam president Kevin. Is a business PDA really that entertaining?

Still, we managed to get them talking, so we opened by praising their tight, fantastic set from the night before.

Redman (R): “Last night’s live set? That was a special menu, just for that party. When we tour in the US, it’s way crazier than that.”

Wait, seriously? Even better than last night? Over the past couple of years, large-scale hip-hop tours have been on the rise in the US, and Redman & Method Man have been sharpened by runs like the Hard Knock Life Tour, so their live show has clearly leveled up. But doesn’t all that work ever get to you?

R: “Right now, man, quit complaining and just handle your business when it’s time to handle it.”

Redman really did seem like he’d matured enormously compared to when I’d interviewed him four years earlier. A man in his thirties: when it’s time, you handle it. So, why are you two so close?

Method Man (M): “We’re close because Redman is cool.”

R: “Meth is cool too. It’s like, we’re on the same frequency, you know?”

They really do seem to communicate like actual brothers. Redman is the big brother, and Meth, the younger one, seems to follow Redman’s lead. But you must fight sometimes, right?

M: “Fight? Only bitches fight.”

R: “I fight with my girlfriend all the time, but never with Meth.”

The new albums each of them had scheduled for December release had been pushed back. Redman’s fifth solo album title was apparently set as Where Is Reggie Noble? (note: Reggie Noble is Redman’s real name). What does the title mean?

R: “You know my mascot, right?” (note: the CG-rendered miniature Redman used on the cover) “Where Is Reggie Noble? is his project. I’m not involved.”

Redman said this, and Meth listened, both stone-faced and dead serious. But of course, it was a joke. Devious, the both of them. So what about Meth’s third solo album, Tical 0?

M: “Haven’t started recording yet, so I couldn’t tell you.”

At this point, the two of them are undeniably stars. There must be things that have had to change.

R: “Stars?” (clowning, laughing) “What’s changed is my underwear.”

The whole room cracked up.

M: “Same here.”

R: “Nah, not much has changed. We got here by being ourselves. People mess with us because what we have is real talent, not something manufactured.”

M: “The fact that nobody knows what we’re gonna do next? That’s our appeal.”

R: “We just do us, and the popularity is just what comes back from that.”

But being a star means you have to do interviews like this one.

M: “Iyyo.” (Yes)

R: “Iyyooo.” (laughing) “Well, it’s the price of fame.”

So, has their rapping changed as they’ve built up their careers?

M: “Iyyo. It’s gotten more complex.”

R: “It’s not simple anymore. The rap game has gotten bigger, and there are a lot of good MCs out there. You’ve got to keep sharpening your skills.”

Southern artists are popular right now. Do you ever get inspired by someone like Mystikal?

M: “Mystikal inspiring ME? I’ve been on the scene longer than him. Why would he inspire me? It’s the other way around: he’s inspired by US! ...Hold on, you like Mystikal?”

Yeah, well, sure.

M: “I mean, he’s dope too. But why do we have to be the ones getting inspired?”

R: “You have to get inspired, man.”

R: “The South is the South.”

Redman, the more mature of the two, brushed it off casually, but Meth came at the question with his competitive streak fully exposed. These are MCs who live in the world of battle. There may be love between them and their peers (Mystikal actually has about as much career history as Meth), but don’t lump them together. That was clearly his honest feeling.

Meanwhile, hip-hop’s center of gravity is dominated by artists in their early thirties, and the culture is entering a genuine era of aging, at least compared to before.

M: “What I’m most interested in right now? Family. If my kid said they wanted to be a rapper, I’d allow it.”

R: “They’re getting bigger, and soon enough they start saying stuff like” (imitating his daughter) “’Hey, buy me a car, I need to get around.’”

As a parent, do you teach your kids anything about what kind of MC to be?

M: “I don’t teach them anything. Stand on your own two feet. That’s the lesson.”

R: “I tell them to take care of their family, to have a sense of responsibility. There’s a good role model right here, so just look at your father.”

That’s right: Redman and Meth are MCs, but they’re also fathers. Hip-hop isn’t just music for the young.

Interpreter: Kyoko Maruyama

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Lauryn Hill

This is the cover photograph from a special issue that gave Lauryn Hill a ten-page lead feature, shot just before the release of her debut solo album The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill. The magazine was still in its small A5 format at the time, so for this occasion the image has been revived in a larger size. Back then, a great many Japanese media outlets were all scrambling to run her portrait. I wasn’t present at the shoot, but this photograph, which we were given exclusive use of, is one I still consider the best picture of that moment. Roughly ten months earlier, Lauryn had given birth to her son Zion, and in our interview conducted by Kei Deta, she said, “I was able to focus on myself more than ever before. And on top of that, he taught me what it means to truly love someone.” She also spoke of “feeling an energy I’d never felt before,” and that life force is visible in her gaze here. There is a powerful, love-filled feminine beauty here that was likely never seen during the Fugees era. It was from this point that Lauryn’s conquest of the world began, as an independent artist standing on her own.

Shinichi Iwama

RZA

RZA, a.k.a. Prince Rakeem, had actually debuted once before as a solo MC with the single “Ooh I Love You Rakeem,” released on Tommy Boy in 1991. But he was dropped from the label after just that one single, and the setback he experienced then is said to have profoundly shaped his path going forward.

RZA has visited Japan only once. It was in mid-May of 1997, during Wu-Tang Clan’s second Japanese tour (he had not participated in the 1994 tour). Wu-Tang at that point, having just released their second album Wu-Tang Forever, were incredible. I remember being stunned, thinking, “So this is the real thing.” Ol’ Dirty Bastard was in a class of his own, drinking wine and sleeping onstage (though his rapping was legitimately great), but the one who stood out was RZA. He kept ad-libbing, and whenever another member stumbled he’d immediately step in and rap the verse himself. For the twenty-odd songs they performed, he seemed to have memorized every other member’s lyrics as well. It was astonishing. What kind of brain does this man have?

If I recall correctly, the interview took place on May 17th, in a hotel room in Yokohama. He talked about the Five Percenters and Wu-Tang’s future strategy, and the way he laid things out, citing specific numbers and concrete examples, was masterful. I remember thinking, “So this is how he keeps the crew together.” Sociable and a natural talker, RZA was also a consummate professional during the photo shoot, readily striking poses and handling the business side of things without a hitch. Compared to the other Wu-Tang members especially, he was the grown-up.

That said, something I also sensed from our conversation was that RZA has a deeply fortified inner world. I wouldn’t go so far as to say he’s shut inside himself, but you have to wonder whether it stems from the setback of the “Tommy Boy incident.” RZA’s beats feel like a direct expression of his personality: sociable and insular at once. The tension between an awareness of what’s trending in hip-hop and an absolute commitment to originality, and the precarious balance that emerges from that collision, is what makes RZA’s beats so compelling. Since Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai - The Album, that balance has taken on a different, sharper edge. Which is why, right now, the beats RZA is making are deeply interesting to me.

Akira Obuchi

En Vogue

Their second album, released in 1992 and a massive hit, was titled Funky Divas. The word “diva” gets thrown around carelessly these days, but to me, no group deserves to be called goddesses of song more than En Vogue. Vocal groups that truly combine elegance and allure with power and accessibility are, in truth, few and far between.

Lena Horne, the jazz singer who also graced the silver screen in the 1940s. LaVern Baker, known as a bluesy R&B balladeer from the 1950s through the 1960s. Linda Jones, who delivered deep, rich sweet soul from the late 1960s into the early 1970s. These are just a few names in the lineage of African American women singers who embodied both beauty and strength, yet endured continual struggle as artists. En Vogue, though a group, could rightly be called heirs to that tradition of tough, noble divas.

This photograph was taken on July 29th of last year, when they performed at Reggae Japansplash at Tokyo Big Sight. In issue 266 we had only devoted a single monochrome page to the live report, so this photo went unpublished. As the sun began to set, we hurriedly shot them in front of a backstage tent, but they didn’t show the slightest displeasure, smiling warmly and cooperating fully. They had shed their black stage dresses and changed back into casual clothes, T-shirts and blouses, yet their distinctive elegance remained intact. The confident smiles they gave us were unmistakably those of top-tier professionals. Meanwhile, Beenie Man’s set was going on behind them, so getting close enough to talk meant pressing in and shouting into their ears. I have never cursed my own appearance more than at that moment: sweating through a “reggae mode” haze, having been drinking beer since before noon. Even so, Cindy rested a hand on my shoulder as I rambled about the soul bars in Yokohama Honmoku that she and her husband, the athlete Braggs, had apparently frequented, and she gently went along with the conversation. Good lord.

I’ll be honest: I haven’t been satisfied with En Vogue’s work since they became a trio. But precisely because today’s scene is overrun with singers of questionable ability, I want them to unleash that graceful power once more. And even as a three-piece without Dawn Robinson, they’re more than capable of doing so.

Shinichi Iwama

Roger Troutman

Looking back, during the era when soul and funk were in full bloom, the lyrics of Black music were remarkably clean. Sex was always in focus, of course, but the words carried no violence. Strength was even less likely to be celebrated or glorified. When you consider the violence that churned through the blues, or the gunfire that still echoes through hip-hop today, that soul-to-funk era may have been a kind of miracle. And the last child born of that era was a funky, soulful entertainer whose purpose was to make people laugh and have a good time.

Which is precisely why his death felt so abrupt.

My first and only meeting with Roger Troutman took place on December 21, 1997. I had tagged along for an interview conducted by Shō. Back then, Roger and Zapp were coming to Japan practically every year, so he was on familiar terms with Mr. A at M&I, the agency handling the bookings, and photographer Toshiya Suzuki, who had already shot him many times, was close to him as well.

With Roger, even the greeting was entertainment. He called out to Suzuki first: “My old friend!” Then turned to the two of us: “...and my new friends.”

There was an aspect of him that clearly considered keeping the press entertained part of the business. He told us he was planning to make an album of collaborations called Roger & Friends, rattling off pairings: Roger & Show, Roger & Kyubei, and so on.

While displaying a genius-level talent for making friends, he also delivered a couple of pieces of sharp humor. Number one: despite coming to Japan nearly every year for “Christmas live” shows, he declared, “Christmas is for Christians. It’s got nothing to do with Buddhists or Muslims.” Number two: when we showed him an article on Common from our issue 232, he cracked, “Changed his name from Common Sense to Common? Guess he didn’t have any sense.”

After the interview, only Shō and I were invited to hear a new track. Roger told us the album containing it was already finished and that it would come out under the Roger name. When we told Mr. A at M&I about this listening session, he was deeply envious. We felt fortunate to have had such a rare experience.

As it turned out, it became far too rare. That music has never seen the light of day.

Roughly a year and a half later, on April 25, 1999, the news of his death arrived. He had been in the middle of making that Roger & Friends album. Mr. A at M&I, knowing the funeral had already taken place, still traveled to visit the family in Dayton, Ohio. Yet even Mr. A never heard the unreleased track. That song, and the Roger-credited album it belonged to, are almost certainly still locked away in some Warner Bros. warehouse. Like the Lost Ark.

Kyubei Maruatsu

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Translator’s Note: Written by Hozumi Kaneko for bmr (Black Music Review) in a March 2001 magazine issue number 271. Originally written in Japanese; translated into English for publication. All rights reserved.

Now set to release their debut album as the first artist on Darkchild Records, the label established by Rodney Jerkins, now one of the very top top producers, is So Plush. The members are Rhonda Russell, TJ Lottie, Raquel Campbell, and Donielle Carter, four beautiful 19-year-olds. The album is filled with Rodney’s soul, and its success seems half-guaranteed already. First, I asked about the group’s history.

Rhonda (hereafter Rh): “TJ, Raquel, and Donielle were together at Hamilton High School. And Donielle and I lived in the same neighborhood. That’s what led to us knowing each other.”

Raquel (hereafter Ra): “So that was when we were around 13 or 14.”

TJ: “We formed the group when we were in high school. Or rather, what happened was, Raquel’s mom suggested that maybe we should form a group together, so we formed the group, and we’ve been doing it together ever since.”

Ra: “About three years now.”

Before high school, what kind of relationship had they had with music?

Rh: “In my case, I had been singing for a long time. Since I was little, I sang in church choirs and things like the International Children’s Choir. Also, everyone in my family plays instruments, and there was always music playing in the house when I was a kid, so the first influence on me came from my family. So that’s where the starting point of my music career comes from. The artists who influenced me musically are mainly Mariah Carey, Stevie Wonder, and Whitney Houston. I like jazz too, all different kinds. And I also like Erykah Badu and Lauryn Hill.”

TJ: “I sang in church choirs too, and sang along while listening to the radio, but at first, as a job, I was thinking about being an actress and a model. My house too always had all kinds of music playing when I was little, so I’ve been influenced by all kinds of things I listened to back then. Then singing became fun too, and that’s how I came to join this group.

The people who influenced me were Mariah Carey, Whit... uh, Whitney Houston, Stevie Wonder, and who else was there...?” (The Raquel next to her prompts, “Lionel Richie, right?”) “That’s right, Lionel Richie! (laughs) I guess that’s about it. Ah, and I like Mary J. Blige too.”

Ra: “When I was a kid too, I sang in church choirs, but other than that I’d never sung in public or professionally. If anything, I was just singing along while listening to the radio or something. It was after I got into high school that I started seriously thinking I wanted to sing as a job.”

Donielle (hereafter Do): “I think when you’re a kid everyone strongly wants to be a superstar or become famous. The first thing I got interested in was dancing. I watched Diana Ross and did Talent Shows and sang ‘Stop! In the Name of Love,’ but back then I was only doing it as one of my hobbies. I wasn’t seriously thinking of building it into a career. At that time my value system was just this vague wish to become a star. After that I wanted to be an actress.

But right before graduation, when we all talked about standing together and doing a singing group, I decided to really devote myself to singing. I realized I had that talent, but also that I still needed training. But I enjoy singing.”

As artists who influenced them, Raquel and Donielle name Aaliyah, Whitney, Mary J., Stevie, and Michael Jackson. The point where Donielle differs from the others may be that she also names Sade and Anita Baker. By the way, they say all of them are currently listening a lot to the albums by R. Kelly and Tamia. Since they had been close to singing from long ago, sang themselves, and were influenced by the same artists, it was probably easy for them to form a group as well. While all that was going on, they met Rodney and got the chance to debut, but what did they sing at that time?

Rh (with the other three saying the same kind of thing at the same time): “In front of Rodney, each of us sang different songs individually, a cappella.”

TJ: “As a group, we sang Destiny’s Child. It was ‘No, No, No.’”

It was Desty’s Child. For girls their age, that was only natural. It would seem like it might become “aim for Destiny’s Child,” but I got the sense that one difference from Destiny’s Child was a greater approachability, a greater sense of familiarity. I thought the secret might be in the chorus work...

Rh: “I take it as a compliment when people say we sound like Destiny’s Child. But I think we can let people hear a sound that’s different from theirs. We worked with first-rate producers, and Rodney gives us something different from the others, a new sound, and the most important thing is that he’s able to really hear each member’s vocals. Like, what kind of sound Donielle has, what Raquel has, what TJ has, and then me too. As for the chorus work, Rashaan handled the vocal arrangements, so maybe his ability had a lot to do with it. Of course, we really worked hard too to make it something wonderful.

So I’m happy when people say that. He let us try the things we wanted to do and add ad-libs too, but in the end the vocal arrangement was decided by his judgment. We don’t understand the technical side of recording, but I think Rashaan and Rodney and the others beautifully shaped that side of it. Chorus and everything else too, but we put feeling first. Attitude.”

It seems the vocals owe a lot to LaShawn Daniels. Also, on songs beginning with “Yes,” the voices are altered quite a bit, so when I asked what they would do about that in live performances, they said they are currently developing ways to handle it with a cappella and effective singing methods. As for the division of singing roles, it seems Rhonda and Donielle handle the lead, while TJ and Raquel take care of the background, hooks, and bridges. Even outside of singing, they commented amicably that Rhonda is the mother, Donielle is dance, and Raquel is fashion, so there are role assignments. If that is the case, then their relationship with Rodney becomes another issue. Rodney has said that they are a “team,” so I asked about that, including the concept of the album.

Ra: “Rodney had the idea from the beginning that he wanted to make it a party album. After the album recording was finished, he asked for our opinions, like, ‘What do you think about this song?’ and ‘Which one do you like best?’ and ‘Which song do you think would be good for the first single?’”

TJ: “He had decided there would only be one or two ballads on the album. Since we’re new artists, he didn’t want to bore people with nothing but slow songs. So the album has lots of up- to mid-tempo songs on it.”

Do: “And about the ‘team’ thing. Including Rodney and everybody else, it felt like family, and we were always able to relax in the studio. We were able to do it in a good atmosphere. Even during recording, everybody sincerely listened to our requests and opinions.”

It seems Keith Sweat and Da Brat appearing as guests was also Rodney’s idea, but the members are very happy they were able to work with them, and TJ names the Da Brat song as her favorite song. They also seem to like hip-hop very much, things like JAY-Z, DMX, and Redman. As for the trendy South too:

Rh: “I love it.”

TJ: “I get totally into it. In the club my body just starts moving on its own... I just can’t keep standing still.”

Rh: “My parents are in the South, and I was there even back when it still wasn’t accepted on the West Coast. It’s body-shaking type music. When you hear it in the club, your body just moves on its own.”

Do: “I think it’s annoying... really.” (Everyone bursts out laughing.) “I’m kidding, I love it too. I love Cash Money.”

So they seem like the type who can accept just about anything. Since from this debut work they are already actively writing lyrics themselves, it may be getting ahead of things, but when I asked about their ideas for a second album, Do said, “Anyway, we want to write more songs ourselves,” and Ra answered, “On the 2nd album I want it to be a little more mature, and I want to include ballads too. I like slow songs, so I’d be happy if we could put in five or six ballads.” That answer alone makes them seem quite dependable. They also say they want to work with producers like Timbaland and Shakespeare, and though I had thought they were only passively receiving things from Rodney, it seems likely that as they gain experience from here on, they will grow a great deal as artists too. They also say they have an interest in Japan, so I would definitely like them to come to Japan.

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On the day of Lupe’s interview, Egyptian president Mubarak announced his resignation. It was a coincidence, but it felt as if it symbolized something.

After a dark period in which he lost someone important and made it through various problems, the thinking wolf Lupe Fiasco finally released his third album, Lasers. Here he speaks about the feelings he put into the new work, the truth and deeper layers behind the talked-about single “Words I Never Said,” and where his mind is now.

We Are Lasers

When The Cool was released, Lupe shocked fans and made them uneasy by saying, “I’ll retire after the next third album, LUpE.N.D.” But brushing away that anxiety, the new album Lasers has finally seen the light of day after about three and a half years. Even though Lupe himself announced on Twitter that the album was complete, the record company still would not move toward releasing it, and it seems Lupe’s fans ended up playing a role in making the release happen.

“It took nearly four years because the record company kept trying to make me do specific songs. If I said, ‘I want to do this song,’ the label would say, ‘We don’t like that song,’ and then when I actually recorded the kind of song they wanted me to do, they’d say, ‘Actually we don’t like that song either. So let’s try this one.’ While that kept repeating, we got stuck in a negative spiral. I got tired of that situation and told them, ‘If you don’t even know what you want, I’m just gonna chill for a while.’ But even during that time, the fans were saying, ‘We want to hear Lupe’s album! We want to hear Lupe’s new music, no matter what kind of sound it is!’ They brought in a petition signed by more than 30,000 people demanding that the release date be set. Even then they couldn’t get a proper response from the label, so this time thousands of kids gathered and started protesting, and as that escalated, they finally announced the release date of March 8. To have fans that dedicated, I really felt that was dope.”

During the interview Lupe kept repeating the word “manifesto.” In that word, you realize, is the true meaning he wanted to put into Lasers.

“Before making the music, before shaping the concept for the album, I tried writing out fourteen things I wanted to happen in the world. I want a meaningful education system. I want politicians to tell the truth. I want wars at home and abroad to end. It’s based on the Black Panther Party manifesto, but I made that first, and only after that did I start on the music. I made clear what I wanted to achieve before I went into the studio.”

The album artwork insists on the title Lasers by scribbling a red “A,” one that recalls the Sex Pistols’ “Anarchy in the U.K.,” over the “O” in “Losers,” adding an anti-social nuance. What feeling did he put into this title?

“I’ve also got a punk band called Japanese Cartoon, and at first we were talking about using the idea of a ‘manifesto’ for that band. It fit a punk band. But in the end, I decided to do the manifesto as Lupe Fiasco on Lasers. So this idea came out of the world of punk rock. And then there’s the meaning of changing something negative into something positive. We’re not losers, we’re lasers. Maybe we started out as losers, but we changed into lasers. Change happens when you reexamine yourself. You don’t have to change the whole world. Just changing your point of view a little can make it into something completely different. On this album, I wanted to convey the positive power that comes out of music.”

“Words I Never Said”

The second single from Lasers, “Words I Never Said,” is a masterpiece that sinks in little by little to a startling degree, and its presence stands out especially strongly on the album. The dramatic sound produced by Alex da Kid, and Skylar Grey’s chorus ringing out like a siren, bring out Lupe’s rhymes even more. What made him decide to pour out his thoughts on this song?

“I was worn out by the current state of things. By what’s happening in the world. ‘American Terrorist’ on Food & Liquor says similar things and has a similar structure, but that one was more metaphorical and more subtle. This song, though, hits straight on, with force, and that’s the point. Sometimes the most controversial thing is to speak the truth. And the truth is powerful enough on its own. This song isn’t aiming for some lyric competition or best-MC battle. The concept of words itself becomes communication. That’s why I needed to use simple words.”

One line in this song that has an especially strong impact is “If you don’t become an actor, you’ll never be a factor,” and I asked Lupe to explain the intention behind it in his own words.

“If you can’t turn your ideas into words, everything stops there. And if you don’t put those words into action, they mean nothing. They mean nothing unless there’s physical action backing them up. If you question a politician about something, they’ll probably just talk back. But if you actually go to their office and physically protest them face to face, then they’ll be forced to act, right?”

And for not only 2Pac fans but also listeners who like so-called conscious rap, the line that probably hurts the ear quite a bit is, “Just listening to Pac ain’t gone make it stop.”

“2Pac is one of my favorite rappers. He stood up to fight problems outside music, and that had a huge effect on his listeners. But no matter how much we as listeners were motivated by Pac, if we just listen to his songs and never take any action ourselves, then it means nothing. Same with if you just listen to Lupe Fiasco, Common, dead prez, Immortal Technique, and do nothing. It connects back to ‘If you don’t become an actor, you’ll never be a factor,’ but if you don’t act, it means nothing.”

In the 2008 presidential election, America’s first Black president was born, and history was dramatically rewritten. But Lupe directly criticizes Obama with the line, “Gaza Strip was gettin bombed but Obama didn’t say shit / That’s why I didn’t vote for him, next one either.”

“I don’t vote in presidential elections. I didn’t vote before Obama came along, and I probably won’t vote in the future either. In Obama’s case, the issue was that when the Gaza Strip was being bombed, he said nothing. About Egypt this time, he said change was necessary, but back then, fighter planes were literally bombing the people of Gaza, and he didn’t say a word, not even a word of sympathy, not even that this tragedy should be stopped immediately. For me that was an extremely important moment. I thought maybe something different could be expected from one of the three major presidential candidates. But America is still allied with a country that continues to carry out massacres. I can’t understand that. If it were army against army, maybe that would still be one thing, but residential areas where civilians live are being bombed and people are being killed. So when people ask me, ‘Why don’t you vote?’ I want to say, ‘That’s why.’ There are tons of other reasons too. It’s not that I’m against Obama himself. He’s a smart person, and I hope he acts with conscience. But at the same time, I don’t trust the system, and I can’t agree with it at all.”

Following that anti-Obama phrase, the song then turns the point toward Lupe himself: “I’m a part of the problem, my problem is I’m peaceful.” In my mind it links directly to the line from the intro of The Cool, spoken by the woman: “the problem is we think it’s cool too.” There, you can see the real Lupe, criticizing social conditions while also unable to fully become a bystander.

“People say that people who don’t vote are part of the problem. My answer to that is, I don’t vote, but I do pay taxes. You might vote once every four years, but I pay taxes every day. Probably more than the guy next door. Hip-hop artists make money, you know, and I’m not saying that to brag. If I buy a fire truck, for example, I’m going to pay thousands of dollars in taxes. That gets broken up and paid out in all kinds of directions. With just a small part of the taxes I pay in a year, the government can buy one bomb. If a bomb bought with my taxes bombs a school or a wedding, then I have the right to speak. More right than the people who vote, probably. Because I’m the one literally paying for that bomb. Whether you sing songs onstage, work at McDonald’s, or work in a clothing store, you pay taxes to the government, and part of those taxes goes to war. So I have the right to express my opinion, and the duty too. If I went to Egypt and picked up a tear gas canister that said ‘Made in USA,’ then some of those might have been paid for with my taxes.”

“All Black Everything”

What stands out on “All Black Everything” is the powerful message, the drums supporting it, and the unsettling combination of proper nouns that keeps flying into your ears one after another: the KKK, MLK, the Quran, Bush, Somalia, Eminem. Here too, Lupe’s political style is sharp.

“I’m talking about what kind of changes history might have seen up to today if Black people in America had not been brought in as slaves, but had instead been hired and paid wages. You can keep that ‘what if’ going forever. Because this is fantasy. If there had been no slavery, then there would have been no crack epidemic, and no ghettos either. I’m not saying drugs would never have existed at all, but it wouldn’t have become a problem so racially skewed to this extent. Then so many Black kids wouldn’t have gone to prison like this. And then there’d be no rapping about crack, because crack itself wouldn’t be there. If you keep tracing it back like that, you arrive at the assumption, ‘What if there had been no slavery?’ Because all the problems rooted in African American life come from slavery. There wouldn’t have been segregation or racism either. So there’s nothing fancy about it at all, I’m just talking about what would happen if only one tiny part of history had been different.”

If Lupe’s passionate fans were to get serious, maybe America really could gain a more decent future than it has now. Listening to the new album Lasers, learning the “Lasers Manifesto” that forms the basis of this music, and hearing this “dreamer with his eyes on reality” called Lupe Fiasco, that sort of vision slowly came into view for me. ◎

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Translator’s Note: Written by Atsuko “Akko” Matsuda for bmr (Black Music Review) in a February 2001 magazine issue number 270. Originally written in Japanese; translated into English for publication. All rights reserved.

Wearing orange pants and a biker-style T-shirt, Eve appeared at the interview venue. She was even prettier than I’d imagined, and both the photographer and I just stood there with our mouths open, staring. I’d read in a magazine interview that she likes Kiss Mints, so I immediately held out some Japanese gum, and she started explaining to the stylist and makeup artist how delicious Japanese gum is.

— Your first album Let There Be... seems to have been supported especially by women, right?
“Yes. I think that’s a good thing. I see myself as a strong woman, and there are a lot of strong women out there, and those women felt like they could support me. I hope that in the near future we can all do something together. I think an era has come where women stand up, take action, and can stay strong.”

— The single “Love Is Blind” (a song about women being abused by boyfriends or husbands) seems to have drawn an especially big response, right?
“I got a lot of positive feedback. A lot of people are happy that I made that song. Because a lot of women have had the same experience as that song. People would come up to me with tears in their eyes and say things like, ‘My big sister went through that,’ or ‘I’ve seen my mom get beaten,’ and… that song made me realize how much power words can have. And I think it was good because people understood that I’m not just doing music.”

— Looking back now on your first album, how do you rate it yourself?
“I really love it. But back then, I wasn’t the same as I am now.”

— After your first album blew up, did your life change? What was good about becoming a star, and what was bad?
“The good thing is getting lots of clothes from famous designers (laughs). And going to great restaurants… and traveling… I love Japan. I want to go again. The bad thing is not having privacy. I can’t go anywhere alone, and I can’t really go to clubs much.”

— So about the second album, why did you choose the title Scorpion?

“Q-Tip told me Scorpion would be good. So I kept thinking about it, and the word ‘Scorpion’ has a strong ring to it, and I felt like it represents me, so I decided to make it the album title.”

— What is a typical Scorpio girl like?
“Passionate, loyal to friends and the people she likes, and if you make her mad she’ll sting…… that’s totally me. And I’m really moody, too.”

— Which signs do Scorpios get along with?
“Sagittarius, Libra, and Scorpio. My boyfriend (producer Stevie J) is a Scorpio too, and both of us are moody so it’s tough. But Scorpios usually get along with most people. The only one that’s no good is a Taurus guy.”

— And there must have been a lot of pressure, like the sophomore jinx (the idea that the second album won’t sell). How did you get past that?
“At first I felt a lot of pressure. When I started making the second album, all kinds of people were telling me I can’t do this, I can’t say that, and I couldn’t focus…… so I told everyone, ‘Just leave me alone. Let me make what comes out of my heart.’ Then I was able to relax. I just want to make the music I think is good, and if people like it, that’s enough, and if they don’t…… that’s disgraceful, but it can’t be helped. I can’t predict what will happen. I do pray to God, though.”

— What’s different from the first album? You said before that the first one was like a diary.
“The second one is like a diary too, but I think I became more of an adult. I grew a lot over this past year, and I learned a lot. So I think I grew lyrically, and I think I grew mentally too.”

— Specifically, how do you think you grew mentally?
“I’ve gotten through a lot of stressful situations, so I think those experiences made me grow mentally. I lost my best friend because of jealousy on the business side, and this past year had a lot of crazy situations. I learned a lot about myself, and about the people around me.”

Can you explain the lyrics of a song you especially like on the second album?
“There’s a song called ‘Living Life So Hard,’ and Teena Marie sings the hook, and it’s a song like ‘Heaven Only Knows’ from the first album. It talks about what I went through this year, what I want to accomplish, and my relationship with God. It’s the most personal song on the second album.”

— How did you end up collaborating with Teena Marie this time?
“In ‘99 she called me and asked, ‘I want you to be on my album.’ But that didn’t happen. So when I was making ‘Living Life So Hard,’ I thought she’d be perfect, and when I called, she said OK.”

— Without sticking only to rap, do you want to do more singing too?
“I tried experimenting a little, using my voice. And I wanted to see what kind of feedback would come back. But I’m not going to do R&B. That’s not me.”

— I hear Southern female MCs like Trina and Da Brat are guesting too. Were you inspired by them?
“I just wanted to do a girls’ anthem. I picked Trina and Da Brat because we’re all from different regions and we have different rhyme styles. We’re all dope, and I thought if the three of us did it, it could get hot, so I tried it.”

— What do you think is the appeal of Southern female MCs?
“I don’t like all Southern female MCs, but I think their style is good.”

— I hear OutKast’s André is guesting. What’s appealing about him?
“He was supposed to be on it, but this time our schedules didn’t match and it fell through. But Swizz (Beatz) talked with him, so maybe we’ll work together in the future.”

— How did you feel about participating in Bob Marley’s tribute album Chant Down Babylon? Do you like reggae?
“It was dope. They (note: the people organizing it, like Stephen Marley and them) called me and said, ‘Are you down?,’ so I said OK right away. I love reggae. I listen to nothing but reggae normally. I like roots stuff too, but I like dancehall. Lady Saw, Beenie Man, Bounty Killer, Spragga Benz……”

— You met Stephen Marley, who’s on your second album, through that project, right?
“I met him when I went to Jamaica. And then I asked him to be on my album.”

— Do you have input on choosing producers?
“Yeah. I chose the producers I like.”

— This is your first time in about three years working with Dr. Dre again (note: Eve originally had a contract with Aftermath, but after releasing only one song she moved to Ruff Ryders). How was it?
“It was dope. Both of us were excited that we could work together again.”

— What kind of beats do you think suit you?
“I don’t like super hard beats. I like musical beats.”

— Beats like ‘What Ya Want,’ for example?
“Yeah.”

— Beats keep evolving more and more, and rap is changing more and more too, right?
“Of course.”

— What do you do to be inventive with your flow and things like that?
“I write rhymes to match the beat. I almost never write without listening to the beat. Because I want to match the beat at the parts where it breaks down, and the parts where it bounces.”

— Who do you think is a really good MC right now?
“No one in particular. Tupac is always my number one favorite. But I listen to JAY-Z, and I like Jadakiss (of The LOX) too.”

— Among female MCs?
“Only Lauryn Hill.”

— Since you all are active, I thought there would be more female MCs, but the number doesn’t really increase, does it?
“Being a female MC is hard. If you’re hard and like a man, men won’t like you…… You have to really know where you fit. With male MCs, there are lots of guys who are similar and it’s fine, but with female MCs, you can’t do that, you have to be original.”

— As a female MC, what do you think about the current hip-hop scene?
“I think hip-hop overall has gotten boring. That’s my honest opinion. As an MC, I only do what I understand myself, and I’m not going to try to copy what’s popular right now. Hip-hop now is simple like ABC, way too easy. The lyrics and the beats… it’s not hip-hop.”

— I think materialism will end soon and a new wave will come again, but what do you think?
“Personally, I’ve never thought to rap about that kind of thing. I like nice clothes and diamonds so I wear them, and I’ll say it (in lyrics), but I don’t mean those things. JAY-Z and Lil’ Kim, people expect them to rap about that kind of thing, so I think that’s fine, but… I can’t enjoy that kind of rap the way I used to. Maybe people want rap that talks about reality more than rap that talks about fantasy.”

— By the way, how was working with your boyfriend Stevie J? Was it easier than working with other producers? Or was it harder because of that?
“It was easy. Both of us knew what we had to do in the studio, and we did it as business. There was kissing, though (laughs). Meeting in the studio and helping each other made our distance get closer, I think.”

— Do you usually talk about music with him too?
“Of course. We talk about everything.”

— It looks like you two have been together for over a year, but what’s the secret to keeping a relationship going?
“We’ve been together for a year and seven months. But you have to trust each other. Communicate, and respect each other. That’s the biggest secret. And being honest. If you don’t borrow a hand, the relationship will never go well. We really talk a lot, and we communicate a lot. And we’re honest with each other, and we respect each other’s opinions. For me, being with him is the first relationship in the real sense, so I had to learn a lot.”

— What do you think of the new presidential candidates, Bush and Gore? Can we leave America to those two?
“Oh my God! The president still isn’t decided! (laughs) Well, I like Gore more. I think Bush isn’t good for the American people. A lot of Americans are Democrats, you know. We need a president for us. But right now, Gore is at a disadvantage.”

The way she talked, and the way she seemed to enjoy talking about horoscopes, made her seem like a totally normal girl, but mentally she gave the impression of being quite adult. It made me look forward even more to the second album arriving.

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