| [ p u b l i c . e n e m y : r e s u r r e c t i o n ] [ t e x t . o n l y . v e r s i o n ] by Cyclone Wehner by Cyclone WehnerAs with mere mortals, even prophets of rage are prone to fatigue. Having just arrived in Melbourne to appear on ABC television's "Recovery", Public Enemy's Chuck D (aka Carlton Ridenhour) is suffering from what he refers to as 'foodlag'. Still, he soldiers on with some impromptu interviews without complaint. Indeed, it seems that Chuck was the one who initiated them -- and not an eager label staffer. The politically conscious hip hoppers are back in Australia fresh on the heels of an acclaimed headline slot on the Smoking Grooves Tour in the US, which saw them perform on the same bill as Cypress Hill, Wyclef Jean, Busta Rhymes and Gang Starr. 'We just tore the place up!,' Chuck says with a sudden burst of hearty b-boy enthusiasm. As a live act, PE continue to set the standard for hip hop acts. It's been over a decade since their aptly titled debut, "Yo! Bum Rush The Show", but even now no one can deny PE's formidable stage presence. By all accounts, PE's timely reformation was relatively smooth. Chuck has been joined by his iconic sidekick, Flavor Flav, and the low-key Terminator X. But most notably, Professor Griff, PE's Minister Of Information, was welcomed back into the fold. 'We've just been figuring out the right time for it to happen,' Chuck says. Of course, Griff was pressured out of the group in the late 80s after statements he made to the "Washington Times" raised the ire of Jewish groups (among others). Chuck reviewed the media fracas in his recent semi-autobiographical book, "Fight The Power: Rap, Race And Reality". If today Chuck seems a little less strident than he's been in the past, there is a likely explanation for it. These days the rapper is based in the laid-back city of Atlanta with his family (he has three kids). While Chuck's youthful anger certainly hasn't dissipated, his outlook has become more international in scope. 'I'm trying to be a multi-media man,' he announces. And there can be no doubt about it: the man who conceived PE's multi-tiered platform (sound, image and socio-political agenda) continues to diversify. During PE's four year recording hiatus, he has released a solo album, "Autobiography Of Mistachuck". He's set up his own label, Slam Jamz (home to hardcore rap group, Hyenas In The Desert). He's ventured into publishing (his second book is on the way). He's stepped into the role of TV reporter for the Fox and BET networks in the US, for which he's deconstructed the cult of Elvis Presley; examined the appalling state of America's inner-city schools; and exposed the racket that constitutes the US prison system. ('I get carte blanche with my team to do whatever I want,' he says.) He's hit the lecture circuit. And, lastly, Chuck has made a point of familiarising himself with the Internet. Not content to be just a multi-media man, it seems that Chuck the cyberman is on the way. As a matter of fact, PE have always been concerned with the role of technology in supporting hegemonic structures. To this end, they've worked to reposition the Black micro at the nucleus of the White macro. It is this agenda that underlies albums like 1988's breakthrough, "It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back", which included the sonic chapters, "Prophets Of Rage", "Bring The Noise", "Rebel Without A Pause", "Don't Believe The Hype" and "Black Steel In The Hour Of Chaos". As it happens, PE's latest set, "He Got Game", stands as one of their most forceful. For this project, PE reunited with director Spike Lee -- after previously recording "Fight The Power" for his "Do The Right Thing" soundtrack. Primarily serving as the companion piece to Lee's basketball film, "He Got Game" marks a return to the tradition of those classic soundtrack albums, like Curtis Mayfield's "Superfly" or Marvin Gaye's "Trouble Man", which both enhanced and further explored the themes of the movie. Like them, PE's cohesive work also stands on its own. Chuck has used the metaphor of the game to examine different facets of the Black urban experience -- such as the culture and socio-economics of sneakers. But, as with 1994's "Muse Sick-N-Hour Mess Age", "He Got Game" has barely dented the US pop charts. In an era in which even rap records by acts with regional followings like Master P debut in the top five, it could be seen as something of an anti-climatic resurrection. While hip hop audiences are often said to be notoriously fickle, a philosophical Chuck believes that this market volatility is to an extent engineered by the industry. 'We can pretty much land a record in the top five if we tour all year long, but we're not gonna do that. And the whole reason for Public Enemy doing what we did before was non-stop touring. So this time we pick and choose our own spots. And also, the advantage that Public Enemy has is that we have more than just the United States to look forward to, so it's a big terrain. The truth is, when those records get into the top five in the US, it's because there are so many promotional and marketing dollars spent by the companies to get it on the radio. That's what makes it happen. Record company mechanics are a whole different thing. Record companies sell records. We just make 'em. So that's our philosophy.' These days Chuck hones his critical faculties on the music industry. In fact, he uses this increasingly topical issue as a ideological touchstone throughout the conversation. It's no secret in industry circles that the emcee is disenchanted with Def Jam, the label on which PE have released some of the past decade's most influential records (on the group's official web site, www.public-enemy.com, Chuck casually refers to it as Def Scam). In the past, Chuck has suggested that the label lost its edge with Rick Rubin's departure. He now confirms that PE will leave the label after their next album. In America, the group have long attracted a large White following as a defacto alternative act. In Australia this translates into the largely Anglo-Celtic suburban audience who tune into Triple J. It would be easy to dismiss such an allegiance as the manifestation of a passing youthful radicalism -- that is, like body piercing, punk haircuts and ripped jeans. Kids grow out of it once they graduate; establish long-term relationships; and have families. But Chuck feels that PE's influence is indelible, making it more like a kid's impulsive tattoo. 'You can have a long-term impact on 'em even if they happen to live conservative lives afterwards. You just want to give them the ability to think on their own.' If anything, urban music is revolutionising popular culture Stateside. Where liberal busing programs failed, hip hop's music, fashions and language are bringing together American youth from different backgrounds. The Generation X's grunge indie-rock is sinking like the "Titanic". No wonder the Smashing Pumpkins are lining up for Puff Daddy's ghetto fabulous remixes. PE's legacy endures in different ways. Among other things, they've provided a blueprint for successive generations of hip hoppers to turn their music into a foundation for fully-fledged enterprises. If there is a 'new PE', it is surely the Wu-Tang Clan, who have likewise established both a strong corporate and familial structure, which, by turn, ties in with a manifesto rooted in the principles of the Five Percenters (not to be confused with the Nation Of Islam). Whereas PE spoke of a Black Planet, Staten Island's Killa Bees have vowed to make it a Wu World. The only shortcoming is that the Wu are yet to get their live shit together. It goes without saying that the Wu aren't the only ones claiming an economic stake in the rap game. There's a whole new generation of playas named in "Forbes'" annual list of America's highest earning entertainers. Chuck doesn't necessarily regard mega-successful entrepreneurial rappers like Puff Daddy as token Black figures in a White-controlled industry. 'It's legitimate empowerment, because they're putting a lot of people to work.' He respects such individuals for opening up new opportunities within a subculture that seems to have no limits. Nevertheless, Chuck maintains that it is of paramount importance that such folks keep reinvesting their money. And he stresses that artistic growth shouldn't be compromised in the process. 'The only thing I'm concerned about is artists not being able to explore and expand beyond what they have done originally. And I think when record companies start dictating what the artists should and shouldn't do, that's a problem. Hip hop came into existence because artists dared to be different -- and we can't lose that. Another thing is that when artists don't actually perform live, that can create a problem too. You don't want it to be just a whole bunch of studio artists. Anyone can go into the studio and sound good, but to actually perform is the hard job. And a lot of people don't wanna take the hard route. Each and every artist can figure out how they can be better than their records. You should never let your records become better than you are. They say you're only as good as your last record, but if you're better than your last record, then they can never say that about you.' Sadly, it's become the inevitable interview topic for any hip hop mainstay: what has been the cultural effect of the drive-by murders of Tupac Shakur and The Notorious BIG? In some respects, Chuck has inadvertently set himself up for passing commentary on hip hop's darkest hour. In the wake of 2Pac's death, Chuck made known his doubts about the circumstances. To support his argument that 2Pac's death was pseudocide, he posted a series of contentious points on the Internet. They circulated for weeks (no thanks to the opportunist Universal Records, who reproduced them as a press release to promote 2Pac's posthumous album, "The Don Killuminati"). As a result, Chuck faced an unprecedented degree of ridicule from some quarters. And to this day, theories persist that somewhere out there 2Pac is kickin' it with Elvis Presley. Chuck has long since modified his views. Of the deaths, he says soberly, 'Somebody from the outside made it happen -- and that's what made it kinda fishy.' Chuck continues with a sigh, 'It's one of the biggest mysteries in hip hop America . . . What I can say is that their deaths have had an impact on the direction the music has taken. You now have people like Puffy, Jay-Z and Jermaine Dupri who are just making hip hop fun. And so right there it shows you that the thug life, or the New York gangstarism, of 2Pac and Biggie,has been deferred for a safer treatment. Puffy brought the girls back into hip hop. And I think that is a good thing. But it had to happen from tragedy.' Much further afield, PE have seen their music infiltrate the consciousness of left-of-centre UK acts like the Prodigy, Massive Attack and Tricky (who, of course, brilliantly flipped "Black Steel" with the enigmatic Martina). Something of a musicologist, Chuck takes a great deal of interest in new genres like jungle. Would he ever consider working with a junglist? Don't rule it out. 'I think first I'll be doing something with Maxim and Prodigy or maybe the Chemical Brothers,' he muses. Fittingly, this brings us back to Public Enemy's next album, "There's A Poison Goin' On". Word is that PE have been cutting some beats that are firmly on the electronica tip (significantly, Danny Saber co-produced a high-powered cut on "He Got Game"). For his part, Chuck is pitching the album as 'psychedelic hip hop core'. It sounds like a far cry from the frenetic urban noise of The Bomb Squad, PE's daring original production arm. Chuck adds with a laugh: 'Picture Redman meets Pink Floyd meets Chemical Brothers meets Rage Against The Machine.' It's gonna be some dope millennium shit, for real. |