One of my regrets with this book is that I wasn’t able to get more hip-hop artists to share. It wasn’t for lack of trying, and I wasn’t about to pay Luther Campbell from 2 Live Crew his interview fee of $3,000. I’m thankful that Talib was so open about the problems hip-hop artists face from venues who don’t respect the craft.
My absolute worst gig was in North Carolina, a long time ago at the start of my career. I was staying at a hotel that was really far away from the venue, and I couldn’t find a cab service. Meanwhile, I was running really late, the crowd at the venue were getting anxious, and I’m steady trying to find a damn taxi. When I got one and finally pulled up to the venue, a fan came up to me really irate. This dude was spitting and yelling in my face. I had a road manager at the time who was a very aggressive type, and he grabbed this guy by the neck and pushed him away from me. That person’s friend came up to me, acting like he was a fan, and punched me right in my face. So now, me and my road manager are fighting with these guys outside the venue, and we got separated. The people we were fighting with ran into the show.
I went onstage, all disheveled and bloody. I said into the mic, “I’m not performing, because I was just attacked.” I saw the guy in the audience while I was talking, and I jumped into the crowd to try and get at him. The crowd, not understanding what was going on, wouldn’t let me. It turned into a situation where we either had to perform or not get paid. I performed, even though I definitely didn’t want to. In the ensuing chaos, I ended up not getting paid anyway. I had blood pouring out from the top of my head for my troubles. Because of that incident, I got wise really quick. The idea that I would do a show because I had to get paid, even though I didn’t want to, is something I never did again.
I tour and perform more than any other hip-hop artist. Touring and performing is my life’s blood. The stage is my life. As a performer, everything I do is preparation for me hitting that stage. When I’m onstage, that’s real. Everything else is just leading up to that moment. As a professional, I’ve learned how to drink responsibly and to exercise. I grew up smoking weed but not drinking alcohol. I did develop alcoholic tendencies over time, but that didn’t happen until after I became a professional rapper. I consider myself a working-class MC. Working-class people drink a lot. People who have to constantly work need a few beers, a couple glasses of wine, or a few whiskeys on the daily.
As a species, we self-medicate. As I’ve gotten older, it’s taken a toll on my body. I can’t do it as much as I used to when I was younger. The key was knowing my body well enough to know when to stop. I don’t trust a man that doesn’t have vices. I wrote a song called “Get By,” which is that responsibility of knowing your limit. My vices of choice are alcohol and weed, and I used to get drunk and high before shows a lot back in the day. There were years where I didn’t do a sober show. You didn’t see me onstage without a drink. I had one show in Amsterdam at the start of my career with Mos Def that, in my mind, I remembered as being excellent. I remember it sounding great and having an amazing time. But then I remembered the look from everybody on my team as I finished, that was like, “What was that?” The look from El-P and Mos Def read, “You look high.”
To be a rock artist, you have to study musicality a little bit. Punk rock is kids who pick up instruments without any training. Punk rock is the closest thing to hip-hop in the rock world. Hip-hop comes from city, after-school, and music programs being cut. That’s where the disco era came from. The rise of the DJ came from New York City music programs getting cut. People stopped being interested in what instrument you played or hiring bands for their parties. The DJs were cheaper, and kids were growing up not knowing musicality. Hip-hop has never been dependent on knowing an instrument. You literally can get up and rap a cappella or rap over an existing record.
Because the skill of hip-hop isn’t centered around the instrumentation, hip-hop artists don’t require as much equipment. Sometimes the people responsible for presenting hip-hop shows, or the promoters who don’t respect hip-hop, can be lazy. The sound man might be a rock guy who has been working at the same club for years, and a rapper comes up and says, “I’m just gonna rap over this CD.” A lot of times, the sound guy doesn’t respect that. I’ve had run-ins with sound guys who don’t look at hip-hop as music. I think that with a rock show, there’s the potential for a lot more things to go wrong. There’s so many pieces that make up a rock show. There’s a lot of hip-hop acts that use instruments at this point in history. What’s great about traditional hip-hop—the two turntables and a microphone—is that the rapper can go a cappella if the record skips, and that’s part of the skill of hip-hop.
Sound guys and venue owners not respecting hip-hop is an all-too-familiar occurrence. I had a big blowout with a sound guy on my birthday in 2015. It was at a classic Boston club called The Middle East. I was talking to the sound man during my set, trying to get the levels right. The sound guy did something I consider highly disrespectful. He got on the microphone so everyone in the room could hear and challenged the notes I was giving him. I wasn’t asking for his feedback. This was not a democracy. If anything, he should have relayed a message to my tour manager. I spoke to him and told him that he needed to get the shit right.
The guy came onstage and started trying to argue with me about the sound during the show. Later, I learned the guy had been at the club for thirty years. He thought he had the right to say, “Who’s this fucking punk challenging me in my club?” I got on the mic and said, “The show is over until this guy is removed from the building.” I left and went into the dressing room. The venue owner came backstage three minutes later, saying, “I apologize for that. I’ve made him go home.” Once he said the guy had gone home, I immediately got back on stage, and the show continued. The next day, the sound guy got on Twitter and challenged me to an MMA bout. He wrote some shit challenging me to get in the Octagon for a fight. I clowned him on Twitter all day, and that was the last I heard from Mr. Sound Man.