By Patrick Dennis Jr.

Awakening is the latest release from Toronto native and Duck Down Music artist, Promise, and is now available on iTunes.

This unique blend of soulful gems and potent lyrical content gives listeners much more than your average rap album. Promise delivers with songs from the soul, based on real life issues like love, success and faith; concepts that are lacking in mainstream music.

No stranger in the hip-hop scene, Promise has been around for over 10 years and worked with artists such as Drake, Boi-1da, and Shad. For his new album, he turned to musical genius Slakah the Beatchild, G.O.O.D. Music’s Tony Williams, and Jhene Aiko for help on making a beautifully soulful album.

Some of the album’s gems include Everyone Knows featuring Tony Williams, Somebody Else with Slakah, Down, and Memories. Working with multi-talented Slakah the Beatchild was a “humbling” experience for the rapper.  “This guy is doing everything, playing every instrument. He’s such a humbling guy. He has the right to be cocky, but he’s not.” Promise went on to add,  “He knows my vibe, I write more songs that I rap. Working with him was just great – it’s fun- it’s not like it’s work. We just have fun!” That fun and joy certainly comes across in their song Somebody Else which embodies so many different elements, as you listen, you just can’t help but vibe to it.

After having the chance to see Promise perform live, you gain even more appreciation for the type of music he makes. “A capella, that’s my style. I like people to know what I’m saying,” explains Promise.  And for the skeptics, Promise has no doubt that hip-hop and God’s word can coexist. “I think it challenges them to understand that there are different delivers of the message. It’s possible for someone to be doing rap and still be a believer.” Promise’s music comes from a real place and as a listener, you can tell.  “Gospel comes out ’cause it’s in my heart,” he says.

His music is certainly from his perspective and he would be the first to tell you that it isn’t for everyone, but just everyone like him.  In a world that seems to be filled with fake artists and messages, it’s inspiring to know that true artists like Promise do exist.

Look for upcoming music videos and single releases from Promise.

Check out Everyone Knows, featuring Tony Williams soundcloud.com

by Adebe DeRango-Adem

When did you first discover the power of words? Did you write as a child?

I was raised in a very Jamaican household, so was swept up by the power of Miss Lou and nation language. I was always the best speller in public school, partly due to the way literacy is treated in Jamaica; it’s a more rigid teaching system informed by the British colonizers, and that’s how my mother taught me—the way she was taught.

I also grew up in a household, and lived in an area in Toronto where many of my peers took great interest in human rights, or more specifically civil rights, so I would listen to and enjoy reading the speeches of great orators like Malcolm X and Marcus Garvey, all the way to Angela Davis and Shirley Chisholm in my early high school years. Certainly growing up in the Black church, my appreciation of words began with my taking in the weekly fire and brimstone put forth by my pastors in the pews.

By high school the wordsmithing I enjoyed most carried a soundtrack, so we’re talking about me listening to oodles and oodles of hip hop, Rakim and KRS One. And the artists they sampled were even greater freedom writers/riders, Fela Kuti to Gil Scott Heron. That’s how I became more attuned to the hyper-artistic use of rhyming couplets, all kinds of literary devices, iambic pentameters, metaphors and similes for days. I make the case that rappers are the new literati, they are the nu streetcorner seers. Modern day griots.

You are recognized as one of Canada’s foremost experts on hip hop culture. What initially prompted you to write Hip Hop World, the most current book on the subject?

I was putzing out in Germany in 2004, I was there for a music conference. So I’m checking into this hotel, and this young chap working at the front desk is staring at me, perhaps thinking that I was not from Essen, and rightly so. In some parts of Europe, if you’re Black, you tend to run into all these philistines who believe you can’t be anything other than a hip hop westerner or somehow related to Bob Marley. Like a caricature. In these more homogenous environments, ignorance reigns supreme because sometimes the locals don’t know any better, or don’t care to come out of their caves.

Nevertheless, the guy can’t speak much English, and my German is lousy to non-existent, so he starts doing a human beat box routine and that’s how he chooses to bridge this great racial and cultural divide. By using one of the tools or elements of hip hop. A major a-ha moment for me, as a guy who’s been documenting hip hop cultures effects on the wider popular culture. As I write in Hip Hop World, “it’s a hip hop world, and you’re just living in it.”

What are some memorable Black-authored books that have a special place in your shelves?

For must reads you have to go to The Mis-Education of the Negro by Carter G. Woodson, Franz Fanon’s The Wretched of the Earth, W.E.B Dubois’s The Souls of Black Folk. All life altering pieces of prose, through different lenses.

Is it possible to ever truly be a novel (in the sense of cutting-edge) writer?

As an afro futurist and hip hoppy conceptual artist, I am very big into “sampling,” offering up ideas on how modern day creators stitch together new and old source materials and form these newer digitized sonic quilts, so my idea of what is cutting-edge is oftentimes different than that of the status quo in Canada. I am reading excerpts of Marcus Boon’s In Praise of Copying, which argues that copying is an essential part of being human. A crucial argument to take on, given the grey areas concerning intellectual property.

Can you tell us about your fourth book, Fatherhood 4.0: iDad Application Across Cultures?
Unlocking the mysteries of fatherhood is what drives me more now than ever. For this book I tracked down a motley crew of multi-culti personalities, public figures, intellectuals, entertainers, athletes, and activists to share their stories, memories, insights, and revelations about fatherhood. What I got back ranged from the comic to the tragic. It was a book I had to write, and Fatherhood 4.0 is a movement I had to invent. I’ve become obsessed with tracking down where cross-cultural fatherhood rituals intersect with the worlds of technology, hip hop, and hipster culture. It’s a way for me to acknowledge and bring light to a cool diverse dads movement happening in Canada.

At what moment did you realize that you wanted/needed to be an author?  Was there a moment, or was it more of an unfolding series of experiences?

Writing chose me. Realistically. I didn’t grow up with any desire to write. There is no history in the Higgins family of scribing, it’s not in my lineage. This all happens organically. Hard to choose to sit in near isolation for years on end, banging away at a keyboard ad nauseum, to hit a small fraction of people relative to the audience of The Strokes or Cee-Lo Green. When you read as much as I do, writing comes easier. I have all of these styles in my head. You should read my e-mail replies to my friends. Reams of digital copy.

What author in history would you have loved to have a coffee (or tea) and chat with, and why?

Iceberg Slim. As a reformed /ex-pim, his take on power dynamics in the criminal underworld stands the test of time…you are either a hustler, or you’re being hustled.

Are you currently at work on any new projects? Where can we go to hear or find your work?
Babylonia: The Death of Common Sense is my next book project. If you google me bi-monthly you will be treated to an audio-visual assault on the senses.

Dalton Higgins is a widely read blogger utilizing a wide array of sobriquet’s including Daltpak Chopra and Usain Dalt. Higgins is considered one of Canada’s foremost experts on popular culture and his other books include Hip Hop World, Hip Hop and Much Master T: One VJ’s Journey. Higgins co-directed and produced More Than a Haircut, the critically acclaimed documentary about Black fathers and barbershop culture.

The future of female rap is calling from the beauty salon where she’s primping for interviews amidst the flurry of activity surrounding her biggest gig to date — a spot opening for Outkast rapper Big Boi at Toronto’s The Guvernment entertainment complex this past November. The future’s name is Reema Major. She is all of 15-years-old and enjoying the heaviest hype for a Canadian urban act since Drake.

Poised and upbeat, Major confesses she’s not at all sure how the show came together, noting that like much in her meteoric rise, it’s all due to the grace of God. And some canny hustle on the part of her manager and producer Kwajo Cinqo, who has been around the block a time or two as a member of Ghetto Concept. Cinqo was the initial link to Gene Simmons, which in turn led to Major’s current signee status with G7/Universal/Interscope. But we’ll get to that.

It’s all a long way from a jail cell in Khartoum, where the Sudanese native was born. Major says her jail cell birth was the result of a mistake on the part of the authorities, and her parents were released. But the sheer terror of the error wasn’t lost on the family and they left Sudan to embark on a trek that would see the young Major live in Kenya and Uganda before landing in Windsor, Ont. in 1998.

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Reema Major – 15 going on 25

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Musically, Major broke through on the strength of her mixtapes and that continues to be the strategy. Currently, she’s simultaneously at work on a mixtape and her debut album. She reveals that sessions are going very well but hesitates to name drop any collaborators, stressing that Cinqo continues to contribute the majority of the beats.

As befitting her rapping roots in freestyle, she’s fierce as a lyricist, often demonstrating a worldly insight beyond her tender years. “When I’m freestyling, I don’t know what I’m going to say next,” she says. “Freestyling is completely in the moment and I love that. It’s what you do right there and then that counts.”

It was quite possibly that raw talent is what Kiss front man Gene Simmons saw when he met Major this past summer. “When Kwajo first told me Gene Simmons wanted to meet with me, I was like, ‘You’ve got to be kidding.’ He’s a man of tremendous knowledge in the music business and he was just really supportive and easy to talk to. I was humbled that someone like Gene Simmons would think that I have ‘it’ — that thing you need to succeed.”

Up next in Major’s journey is her mixtape The One. But after that, the future’s all stardust. With so much up in the air, there’s no telling what she’ll be doing next. The likeliest thing is the full-length album release. “At this point, my music is all me,” she says. “I’m writing from my direct experiences, my ups, my downs, my hopes, dealing with my life. Writing is always how I have dealt with things. I only spit what I know.”

It’s no surprise she has a lot to say. Until 2009, Major split her time between Kansas City and Toronto, relocating to Toronto permanently as it has a more creative rap scene and a better launch pad for her success. Case in point, she was the youngest performer at this year’s prestigious urban music showcase Honey Jam, an annual Toronto event, and was the first Canadian female to participate in a hip-hop cypher at 2010’s BET Hip-Hop Awards.

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By: Ryan B. Patrick

Toronto-based rapper More or Les has a lot on his mind. Right now, he’s talkin’ bout brunch. And hate. But not necessarily in that order.

His third indie project, Brunch with a Vengeance represents an old school flow with new school sensibilities — all centred about relatable pet peeves like dirty restrooms, poor hygiene or lazy co-workers.  “For this album, I wanted to create a concept album that could resonate with anyone. And nothing resonates more than hate. Plus I love brunch,” says the affable MC.

As a rapper/DJ and co-founder of the popular Hip-Hop Karaoke Toronto events, More or Les is a familiar face in the Toronto underground urban scene. Neither a novelty act or your average rapper, More or Les (real name Les Seaforth)  is a passionate hip hop aficionado whose quirky style and deadpan delivery challenge conventional thinking about hip hop.

Sway caught up with More or Les at his recent album release party in Toronto.

When did hip hop begin for you?

In the early 80′s with songs like “Rapper’s Delight” by The Sugarhill Gang (my parents’ copy!), “Beat Box: Diversion One” by Art of Noise, “Summertime, Summertime” by Nocera, “Rappin’ Duke” by Shawn Brown, any and every song made by Run DMC, the entire “Beat Street soundtrack” album – and I mean the ENTIRE album.

Why brunch? Why Brunch with a Vengeance?

I created an album about persons or places or things that people hate. So this album is get-back/revenge for people whose complaints have been unheard or not addressed. And Brunch is by far my favourite meal of the day that best describes me outside of Hip Hop. So Brunch with a Vengeance is a metaphor for the subtle delivery of revenge in a Rap format.

Talk about Hip-Hop Karaoke: How did you get involved with that?

In late 2005/early 2006, myself and a few local DJs (DJs Numeric, Ted Dancin’, Dalia) started discussing Hip Hop Karaoke as a possibility, after Dalia and DJ Tashish from Montreal got in contact with the folks who started it in New York. We hit them up for advice, made some alterations for a Toronto audience, pooled our records, sought out a venue, and started what has become a T-Dot institution.

What’s wrong with hip-hop today?

I’d say the greed of and monopolization of the entire concept by the record industry. People tell me all the time that the music dominating the airwaves and being represented as “what Rap is” is not what they like nor what they want to hear (for the most part). When companies invest in a product to make lots of money for themselves, they won’t focus on anything else – so they want the consumer to focus on nothing else but their product. This “all or nothing” attitude means people have to hear the same thing over and over so they memorize it, become comfortable with it and want to hear it again – leading them to buy it.

What has been your most memorable or inspirational gig and why?

There’s a tie for my most memorable and inspirational gig – One was in the French countryside at a music festival, performing with ( UK jazz rap band) The Herbaliser. I asked 5000 people (in French) to raise their hands and follow me – and they did. This is tied with performing in Montreal with The Herbaliser again – it had been a while between collaboration, and when it was over, they all expressed how truly floored they were with my flow – they felt like my live show skills took a giant step up since we last met in person. That was exciting to hear.

How do you define success?

Being able to pay your bills, feed yourself and take the occasional trip from doing something you love. Being an independent artist in this country means never getting to say you’re rich. The other side of that fence is that I never have to conform to mass commercial expectations. I do it my way and no other.

What do you hope people get from the new album?

The idea that picking your nose in public without using a tissue or hanky is NOT cool!

From Hammer Pants to Ghostriding the Whip the 10 most unfortunate trends in hip-hop history

By: Nick Aveling

HIP-HOP. IT STARTED IN THE  park, then it blossomed into a way of life. Then it took over the world. Then people started wearing parachute pants the size of actual parachutes, starring in straight-to-video feature films without knowing the first thing about acting, and dancing on top of expensive cars that nobody seemed to be driving but were rolling down the street nonetheless. In honour of the brave, often misguided pioneers, Sway presents the 10 most unfortunate trends in hiphop history.

1 Hammer pants
It would be easy to criticize MC Hammer for wearing parachute pants so often and with so much enthusiasm that their name had to be changed. But parachute pants also make a kind of sense for Hammer. On some subconscious level, he must have been hoping they would soften the landing when he fell $13 million into debt.

Watch MC’s awesome, ground-breaking, iconic style in his ‘U Can’t Touch This” video:

2 Getting jiggy with it
Things were looking up in 1997. The rap wars were over, the Clinton economy was booming and, perhaps consequently, rappers everywhere felt comfortable wearing shiny suits. The jiggy era had arrived. Blame Will Smith. Blame Puffy and Mase. Blame yourself for buying their records. Whomever you blame, just be happy it’s over.

Wow, now watch the real deal — Will dancing and singing in his shiny suit.

3 Being lil’
Even the li’lest of rappers is bound to get bi’er eventually. Puberty did Bow Wow in at his prime, and given Lil’ Kim’s career arc, odds are it’s only a matter of time until some cabana boy fi nds her bobbing face down in a swimming pool fi lled with chocolate pudding. If you ask us, it’s high time to drop hip-hop’s most pervasive honourifi c altogether. Unless you’re Lil’ Wayne. Then it’s cool.

4 Producing low-budget straight-to-video movies For a while there, it was impossible to walk down the new releases aisle at Blockbuster without seeing 12 movies starring Silkk the Shocker, six starring Beanie Siegel, and another 37 starring Master P. But did even one of them ever come to a theatre near you? No. And did you ever bother renting one of them? We know we didn’t.  Now we have You Tube if you really feel compelled to watch the Scene.

5 Brainless top 40 rap
Can someone tell us what happened to real hip-hop? Rap is supposed to be a sacred art form, not a bunch of drooling halfwits – who clearly record more songs a year than they listen to – chanting monosyllabically about expensive toys. Seriously, somebody bring real hip-hop back.

6 Complaining about brainless top 40 rap
Holier-than-thou underground heads, take note: 1991 to 1996 is never coming back, so shove those Jeru the Damaja B-sides where the sun don’t shine – your precious backpacks – and write some rhymes about something other than the good old days.

7 Reality shows
There’s a kind of raw sadism involved in watching Flavor Flav eat Brigitte Nielsen’s face that just doesn’t jive with hip-hop’s proud roots. Sure, he was always kind of weird, but that doesn’t mean he deserves to be remembered as the guy who got slapped by Sylvester Stallone’s ex-wife. VH1, this is all your fault.

8 XXXL Tees (on M bodies)
Come to think of it, XXXL Tees and Hammer Pants have a whole lot in common: they both look ridiculous, they’re both dangerous on escalators and history will judge them both with same mix of shame and denial.

9 Making it Rain
For those of you needing an explanation, making it rain has nothing to do with precipitation and everything to do with throwing money at strippers. Extra points for imagery, but tossing entire mortgages worth of cash at naked women just because you can — whatever you want to call it — is still really sleazy.

10 Ghostriding the Whip
We weren’t there when ghostriding the whip was invented, but the conversation could have only gone one way: “I’m just thinking out loud here, but do you guys want to dance around on the hood of a luxury automobile as it careens driverless down the street?”

“The street, eh? Say, isn’t that made out of pavement? Count me in.”

From war-torn beginnings to first-world riches; Freddy Will talks hip-hop

BY: Melissa Bessey

How does the son of a high powered diplomat go from the war-torn streets of Freetown, Sierra Leone to staging concerts across North America? For Wilfred Kanu Jr., a.k.a. Freddy Will, the answer is with passion, perseverance and sheer determination. Sway caught up with the rapper/entrepreneur at his home in Toronto.

How has your African background influenced your music?
I’ve listened to hip-hop my whole life, but I’ve only been in the game since 2006. I’m really an underground rapper and heavily influenced by Africa because I grew up there and it was a whole different world. Now it’s being recognized worldwide, but back in the early ’90s, nobody gave a damn about Africa so I have a different perspective from everybody else. Right now hip-hop is reforming itself and it is probably the only genre in the music industry where independent artists are making money.

As the music industry moves in a direction where independent artists can control their own careers, what do you think artists need to focus on to succeed?
I think that artists need to learn how to tap into the internet, and I’d suggest getting their own blog. What counts is the numbers and where the money is at — at the end of the day, money counts. With music, it’s not because of the money.

The key is that it opens a lot of doors. If you’re an artist and your stuff is online, you still have to be able to show that it’s effective and the only way it will be is if you can see there’s money behind it. For example, if you’re doing a photo shoot or video and people can see that it must have cost a pretty penny, people are going to respect that because there’s production behind it and it wasn’t just done in the backyard. You have to back your internet game up with substance.

As a woman, hip-hop enthusiast and writer, the question I am asked most is not, my list of greatest rappers of all time, or my picks for the emcee to look out for in the new year, I am asked for my opinion on the relationship between women and hip-hop. Most people, particularly men, expect that by asking this, I will then take the opportunity to launch into a lecture, bemoaning the evils of hip-hop and vilifying all emcees as misogynistic, testosterone-ridden buffoons. “But surely Michelle”, they inquire, ‘on behalf of all women, aren’t you offended?’

Well, yes I am a woman but no, actually I’m not offended. I am the first to admit that the representation and role of women in hip-hop could use some revamping. I am just as tired as most women are of seeing the bikini-clad, booty shaking video vixen gracing the pages of countless hip-hop magazines and websites. I would also prefer, that in order to be taken seriously or to receive any shot of success, a female did not have to be co-signed, endorsed or flanked by one or more moderately talented, male rapper(s).

Women have always had a contentious relationship with hip-hop, riddled with many complexities and challenges. There seems to be a constant battle between each side to find a better way to understand each other, maintain mutual respect and ultimately co-exist happily and peacefully.  Sounds just like you and your significant other, huh?

Despite these troubling aspects, to suggest that hip-hop as a culture inherently harbours a lack of respect for women is not only unfair but, just plain ignorant.  The beauty of hip-hop is that it is rich in both quality and quantity. There is an abundance of hip-hop so appallingly awful even the staunchest hip-hop apologist couldn’t defend. And then, there is this plethora of beautiful, positive, soul enriching hip-hop that while perhaps not as popular as the crappy stuff, is still worth recognizing.

Some would suggest that you would have to do some major crate digging to find these positive examples, but a close examination of some of hip-hop’s most famous faces could yield great results.

Every emcee has a formula, a shtick if you will. When it comes to women, each rapper takes their formula and tackles the subject of women very differently. There is the “Sympathizer”, the rapper who, through their lyrics, addresses the trials and tribulations faced by women with eloquence, dignity and respect.

A great example of this is Nas who in his song “Reason” states, ‘Picture a Black nanny and a baby in a basket pushin’ down 5th Ave, she never had it, it’s not hers to begin with. She gives it breakfast, baths and dinners. Treats it so tender while her own kids live alone at home with no phone on. Ain’t had a good meal in so long….”

These lyrics offer a jarringly accurate depiction of a single mother, struggling to provide for herself and her children. In this example, Nas’ subject is not demeaned or ridiculed, instead he uses his music as a forum to shed a much needed light on an unfortunate reality too many women are forced to reckon with.

Another and perhaps more famous approach to women in hip-hop can be seen in Tupac Shakur, whose anthem “Keep Your Head Up” despite being released decades ago, continues to strike a chord with women to this day.

The iconic video, featuring a young Jada Pinkett-Smith walking down the street to the jeers and catcalls of men, to the famous opening lines, ‘Some say the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice, I say the darker the flesh then the deeper the roots’ illustrate an acute level of female sensibility.

The lyrics demonstrate a man’s appreciation for the beautiful skin so many black women struggle to accept and appreciate while the video’s imagery hopefully shows men how utterly ridiculous it looks trying to holla at a female while in a car full of goons.

There are some emcees that think the art of wooing is as simple as listing sexual conquests and bedroom skills however there are others who are way more skilled. Rapper LL Cool J is perhaps the best example of what I like to label as “The Casanova”. Renowned for penning one of hip-hop first ballads “I Need Love”, LL not only uses his good looks and physique in order to appeal to a female audience, but the dedication of a large part of his musical repertoire to the female form, makes him an easy female fan favourite.

In one of his most famous hits, “Hey Lover” the rapper asks ‘What your man got his hustle on gotcha type scared? Break ya off a little chump change to do your hair? That seems to be enough to satisfy your needs, but there’s a deeper level if you just follow my lead’.

These lyrics place his unrequited love on a pedestal, while also showing her that she deserves much more than she is receiving in her current relationship, both sentiments many women could benefit from listening to.

Every so often, we are also graced by the presence of the “Broken-hearted Lothario’, the emcee who doesn’t take heartbreak as an opportunity to slander the virtue of their former loves, instead they dare to show an emotion very rare in hip-hop; vulnerability. These emcees have loved and lost love and use their lyrics as dedication to the ones that got away.

The Roots single “Silent Treatment” features rapper Black Thought readily accounting for the errors of his ways, through self-reflection, an approach very different to the one most of us use when dealing with a failed relationship. There are many examples of the bitter-side of break-ups in hip-hop (see Ghostface Killah’s Wildflower, for an especially good one) but here,  Black Thought is not only regretful, but damn near desperate for a reconciliation. Buoyed by the signature, soulful, jazz-infused Roots sound, he virtually begs his lost love, to throw him a line, anything, in the form of communication after their parting of ways, a brave but effective means of showing his adoration for his former paramour.

Hip-hop juggernaut famous for his braggadocios lyrics, Jay-Z penned the tearjerker ‘Song Cry’ in this vein as well. Again, without defaming the virtue of his former love, the song depicts Jay-Z’s vivid recollection of a relationship gone south. His refrain, ‘I can’t see ‘em comin down my eyes, so I gotta make the song cry’ again, illustrates vulnerability and shows the emcee’s ability to love, choosing to use his music as an outlet for his pain.

Sure, you’re probably thinking that Jay-Z and Tupac especially are horrible examples, that defeat my argument altogether. The two are considered to be amongst the most notable culprits in the ‘crimes’ against women in hip-hop but that is exactly why I think they work in this context. If they were truly misogynists, or individuals with no respect for women, could they make songs like the ones mentioned?

Of course, I would much rather hear an emcee use terms more flattering to women and yes, I would love to see them embrace females much more equally however, their failure to do so, in my eyes is not an offence. Instead, it illustrates the contradictory, tortured soul of artists in hip-hop. These emcees are not saints but certainly not devils, as they posses equal parts of good and evil. They may have made transgressions against women however, they have also paid homage to them and in my opinion, these transgressions should not and cannot overshadow their more positive showings.If anything, they illustrate the great room for improvement in all hip-hop artists and allows for more discussion on how hip-hop can evolve and elevate itself from soundtrack of the streets to collective voice of all people.

What is debatable is not the acknowledgement that the disrespect of women in general is wrong; it is the perception that hip-hop and hip-hop artists should be defined as inherently disrespectful. Ultimately, music is merely a reflection of the state of society. We all have seen examples of indiscretions against women outside of hip-hop therefore, is it fair to hold a mirror up against hip hop culture while neglecting to shed light on the misogyny that is present all over society?

Let us not taint the legacy of hip-hop with generalities. Instead, let us celebrate the impact hip-hop has made and look forward to a future where it just keeps getting better and more inclusive of women altogether. In the interim, this woman will continue to love hip-hop, despite it’s shortcomings. Unconditionally.

So begins the enlightening journey into Hip Hop World, the latest book by media specialist, pop culture critic and Harbourfront music programmer Dalton Higgins.

As a vocal member of the industry, Higgins offers his two cents on the multi-billion-dollar business and culture that’s changed the globe.

While chronicling the rise of the urban subculture that has gained international influence, Hip Hop World provides a fresh take on hip-hop’s controversies and accomplishments. Perhaps most importantly, Hip Hop World broadens readers’ tunnel vision to a perspective that extends beyond their backyards into scenes across continents.

Tell me about the process of putting this book together.
It was a very organic process. I am, first and foremost, a hip-hop generationer. I’ve been around since the music’s inception. I like to travel and check out different things in the Afro-diasporic music tradition, and that certainly includes hip-hop culture, because this is the music of my generation.

When we talk about youth culture and globalization, I think we’re seeing it through as clear a prism as one can see it because Toronto is, arguably, the most multicultural city on the planet. So my analysis on the hip-hop world is as genuine as any.

What’s the difference between cultural appropriation and genuine participation in a foreign culture?
I would say, for any non-black, non-Latin American person that partakes in the culture, there always needs to be recognition of the black innovators of the genre. That’s where for me, the appropriation, the co-optation, comes in. Rap music is black music. What I find also with folks that aren’t black participating in the culture, oftentimes I’ll hear them say, “it’s not black anymore, everybody plays a part in it.” These are folks who, sometimes, haven’t stepped a day in a black neighbourhood, have no real connection to the people. It’s not just music, it’s a voice of a community, so in it is a lot of pain and a lot of anguish and a lot of beauty and joy. To listen to a music and disconnect it from the people from whence it came doesn’t register in my book.

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In Hip Hop World, you mention that, although there are no definite numbers, it seems the audience for black conscious rap is, ironically, mostly white.
It’s almost a privilege to shell out $35 to go see dead prez, Mos Def, Chuck D — this type of so-called conscious rap. It’s costly, and a too-large segment of our community is still fending for themselves to put food on the table because it’s not a level playing field. Racism is still alive and well and hip-hop does not exist on a separate island.

I think there is some power in M1 spitting rhymes to a large non-black audience, in that sometimes it gets tiring preaching to the converted. It’s one thing for a black kid to say, “I’m discriminated against,” but think about the power of a white kid saying, “discrimination is wrong.”

Playing to audiences that aren’t black, you’re looking for neo-abolitionists. I have some friends that I consider to be just that. They are Caucasian, but they feel as strongly about anti-racism as I do. They’re not trying to mimic me, they don’t want to grow their hair like me, they are proudly Caucasian, but have taken up this cause.

What can Western practitioners learn from their counterparts internationally?
I think what our Western rap brethren and sistren can take from M.I.A., Telmary Díaz, K’naan and Emmanuel Jal, is how activism and speaking about real issues is so seamlessly a part of their music. The music sounds just as hot, but it actually carries a message. So that means it’s entirely possible to spit the hottest verse and still be saying something.

How do you see the future of the music industry and the future of hip-hop?
There’s a reason record labels are now being converted into condo developments, and it’s corporate greed — selling recorded products for $20 when they cost a mere few dollars to produce. Is it any surprise that some savvy folks on the web have now subverted that whole system of being economically exploited? Music is art, music is life and it needs to be more accessible. It’s karmic energies coming back around.

Hip-hop is not dead, it’s now just grown up, left the ’hood and is travelling the world racking up Air Miles. It’s also mutated into other things. Some of the best electronica music out there — dancehall, etc. — they’re all hip-hop influenced. They are not hip-hop in name, but at the root they’re hip-hop.

Why do you continue to listen?
It’s more than just music, it’s how you walk, it’s how you talk. It’s a swagger, it’s a lifestyle. It’s something that you can’t shed, you can’t lose, it’s just a part of you.

Originally published in Sway Magazine, Fall 2009

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Jane Finch girl a multimedia personality

By: Del Cowie

IT’S A BLAZING HOT JULY afternoon at the swanky Hotel Intercontinental on the edge of Yorkville in downtown Toronto and a chatty crowd of business people have gathered in the hotel’s Skylounge for an after work get-together. Statuesque and commanding in a black dress and heels, Jully Black is a striking presence as she struts in, causing the owners of a few starched collars to stop what they’re doing and take notice.

If you aren’t aware of Jully Black’s strong sense of purpose, you find out when she opens her mouth. “I think that I’m finally, this is gonna sound clichéd, but I feel like I am every woman,” Black says. “I think people are judging me by my character and not my colour, and I feel that finally there’s a pride in Jully Black and it’s not Jane and Finch Jully. I represent, definitely, where I’ve come from, but it’s more about where I’m heading to.”

Indeed, this is a different Jully Black than the one who emerged out of the Toronto music scene in the mid- to late-’90s, and even the one who released her debut album This Is Me in 2005.

For one thing, Black is a much more visible figure than she was when her debut album dropped. While that record did well enough to go gold, Black’s appeal has been significantly widened by her ongoing stint as an energetic celebrity reporter on CTV’s eTalk Daily, hobnobbing with the likes of Oprah Winfrey and the cast of The View, opening her up to audiences who may not even be aware of the fact she can sing. It’s not a thought that’s escaped her notice. “Television and music has now become my yin and yang…. At one point, the insecure musician in me was like, ‘I want people to know that I’m a musician,’” she says. “Even though the blessing of television came naturally, I didn’t even look for it, it came to me. I was still under the impression, like, ‘Gosh, am I never gonna be a musician?’ So I really had to embrace the fact that I’m a student, so I’m able to learn both sides of the media.”

Now that she’s gotten used to the benefits of her hosting gig, Black is revelling in the exposure the role provides her. “I couldn’t pay for that sort of advertising,” she says. “For 30 seconds or a minute of advertising, you’re running into the millions — and Jully Black gets to be the face of a dream. I’m just a little Jane and Finch girl that didn’t see anyone who looked like me on television that was from Canada.” As well as her continuing role on eTalk, Black is set to star in the television version of trey anthony’s theatre hit ’Da Kink In My Hair, debuting this fall.

Black also appeared in the stage version of the play and performs the television show’s theme song. Then there’s also the matter of releasing her sophomore album Revival. Clearly, Black is a threat on many levels. “I always say I’m gonna ‘Queen Latifah’ this sucker,” she says. “You think Queen Latifah, when she was singing ‘Ladies First’ thought she would be a cover girl? Maybe. Maybe not. Did she think she was gonna be in Hairspray and Chicago and Oscar-nominated just straight doing hip-hop? No, she built her brand.”

However, Black wasn’t always CEO of Jully Black Inc. The youngest of nine children (raised singlehandedly by her beloved mother), Black sang in the church choir as a child, where she developed her distinctive alto. The death of Black’s sister Sharon in 1990 devastated her and is the subject of Revival’s “Catch Me When I Fall.” Her sister’s death is partly the reason she’s such a fitness fanatic now, years later.

“My sister died when she was 24, so I’ve always been like, OK, let me just at least be healthy,” Black says. “She was healthy — triathlons and everything — and she just died. She had two kids in one year. We were like, ‘Wow, you had two kids in one year,’ and literally one year later she died.”

“She was like the second oldest… every time (a sibling) got past 24 it was like, OK, yeah,” she says, sighing with relief.

As a teenager, she met up with Kardinal Offishall and Saukrates at the Fresh Arts creative arts program. The crew originally called Figurez of Speech would eventually expand and come to be known as The Circle, known around Toronto for their energetic live shows. Along with MC Tara Chase, Black was the female presence in the 10-strong clique, and was the only singer in the collective, a self-described “ride or die chick.”

“I’ve been married to hip-hop for most of my career. I was the girl on the eight bars, which was fine,” Black recalls of her years singing the choruses on rap tracks. “That was strategic for me as well. There’s no R&B industry in Canada. What am I supposed to do? Not have a career? Sure, give me eight bars. That’s my song. I’ll make a chorus (and) represent Jully. I don’t have enough fingers to say the amount of choruses that I made.”

Black worked extensively on music released by Circle colleagues Kardinal, Saukrates and Choclair, among others. Eventually, Black’s work ethic scored her a publishing deal with Warner Chappell in 1998, and Black delivered on her promise with the Juno-nominated single “Rally’n.” Despite the fact that in the next few years Jully would also land a major label deal with MCA in the US and end up recording with revered New York MC Nas, whom she calls a “huge mentor,” Jully still had to face significant delays for her album I Travelled. She was eventually released from her deal when the label shut down. While This Is Me eventually surfaced in 2005, Black still faced obstacles. “I went through the fire through the wire, man,” Black says. “There were times of triumph and tribulation and — really from being labelled a certain way — not being able to get gigs, because Canada was afraid of hip-hop.”

Still, Black was able to score a slot on the Black Eyed Peas’ 2005 Canadian tour, which spawned a fortuitous turn of events for her. will.i.am of the Black Eyed Peas had remixed “I Know,” a song Black co-wrote for Destiny’s Child on The Fighting Temptations soundtrack. The relationship between the Black Eyed Peas and Black flourished to the point that the band that plays on the Black Eyed Peas records is all over the polished and varied Revival.

“I think that between the two years (since This Is Me was released), I’ve loved and I’ve lost. And I’ve loved again and lost again,” Black says explaining her thematic motives that fuelled sureshot tracks like “My Baby” and the throwback vibe of single “7 Day Fool.”

“I can say that I am revived, and I’m revived because I accept all my weaknesses and want to turn them into strengths.”

However, it is clear that one of Black’s strengths is connecting with people, no matter what medium she chooses. As well as her forays into television, Black blogs regularly on her website, staying in touch with her fans, and has also posted humorous videos of herself working out on YouTube. But in the end, for Black it all comes back to the music. One man in particular had Black in tears when he emailed her revealing that he was ready to commit suicide until he heard her song “I Travelled,” which Black dedicated to her mother.

Watch “I Travelled” here:

“I’m not trying to act like I’m some Mother Theresa, but I have work to do,” Black says referring to the man’s decision not to take his own life. “There’re people out there that identify with my music and I realize I’m a channel that people need to tune into, so I gotta keep my channel on. And no bundle here, it’s just one channel — it’s called Jully Black. Tune in if you want.”

Watch Jully’s video “Seven Day Fool” here:

Watch Jully’s video “Running” here:

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It is a good time to be a female emcee. With more and more women rapping and collaborating with high profile hip hop artists the bar is being set ever higher. Reema Major a.k.a. the illest kid knows this; she started out young.

In 2009 she released the single “Gucci Bag” which received regular rotation on the radio. This would be an incredible accomplishment for a lady twice her age, but Reema was only 15.

Born in Khartoum, Sudan she moved to Windsor and Kansas before settling in Toronto. The influence of her Arabic roots is heavy on her rhymes and in tracks like “Arabic Princess”. This summer marked her first live performance at Toronto’s popular Honey Jam -an artist showcase that brings together the best of Toronto’s female, multicultural music contingent.She held her own in the company of some of the city’s most exciting talent.

Reema broke ground again recording a Cypher for BET’s website; the vids coincided with the 2010 Hip Hop awards. She is the only female featured and the youngest, but next to the boys she still stands perfectly coiffed and full of pretty swagger. The killer performance is already creating buzz on the web and is sure to get the young emcee the recognition she has been gearing up for.  Check out the video below.

Reema Major “15 Going on 25” the free mixtape is available for free download on datpiff.com.

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