We Are At W.A.R. -- Pharoahe Monch Interview part 2

In the conclusion of TWV’s chat with Pharoahe Monch, the rapper talks working with Diddy, how Geffen/MCA almost killed his career and why he didn’t sign with Jay-Z.

The Well Versed: You mentioned the “Intro.” That was the only track you received production credits for on W.A.R. Throughout your career, you’ve been producing. What was the decision behind the producers you wanted to work with this time? Like for example, Fyre Department [produced “The Grand Allusion”]. I thought that was an awesome arrangement they came with and I know recently they added the live drums to the mix. But I don’t necessarily think of an album with that type of Fyre Department production on the same album as Marco Polo for example. It’s an eclectic range.

Pharoahe Monch: I just wanted to be free and I don’t care about that. I have beats now that are fucking remarkable that I just didn’t think fit and the first version of [“The Grand Allusion”] I just sampled King Crimson and the shit was hot. I rhymed on it and it was hot. I did it at Marco Polo’s house because he had some shit there. I was like, “Can I use this?” because I was doing vocals there and I was like, “Let’s scoop this and do it here.” And we just looped it and it was hot. And then I had somebody play it out on the keyboard and the shit came out dope and Marco was totally against replaying a lot of shit, but the shit sounds fucking crazy. And then I had the band actually play the shit over so there’s three versions of the song. When it got to the band interpretation I was like, whatever it’s my idea — they did the work — it’s not about that. I need the love. I need the love. I mean, this next record — my manager would chop me in the throat if he heard me say, “Next record.” On my next record, I’m going to be doing a lot more production on it.

TWV: Do you have a title?

PM: I’m not going to do that. [Laughs] W.A.R. is the title. [Laughs]

TWV: You know, I personally want to thank you. My first job covering anything was the 2009 Brooklyn Hip-Hop Festival and you rocked there. You were the headliner and it was the biggest interview I ever had at that point. But you talked a lot about W.A.R. then. You were talking in anticipation of it. You were talking about how hard it was going to be in comparison to Desire. The interesting thing now after hearing [W.A.R.], it feels like Internal Affairs meets Desire. It’s real hard at moments. Then it’s real soulful, almost gospel in some moments. Then last week you confirmed that “Calculated Amalgamation” was the last song added. How many iterations have you gone through with W.A.R.? If some tracks were made during Desire, and up to a month ago you were still adding tracks…

PM: Not many. The truth is, I like working in studios. I got an MP 2000 XL and a couple pieces of production equipment but I don’t have a lot of recording equipment. I don’t have a lot of recording equipment so the truth is, going back and forth to the studio and getting the shit to sound right was just a real pain in the ass and a process that I would never want to go through again. But I love it. I don’t want to complain about the process. But you do a verse and a chorus and it’s like, “When can I get back into the studio again?” That’s part of the struggle that I feel is in the album, too. It wasn’t high end fruits, berries, zen-palate, Smart Water. It was like basement, Marco’s room, Exile’s fucking house with the fucking cat and whatever the fuck. It was real, “We got to get this shit done however we got to get it done.” [Laughs]

TWV: I’ve been listening to W.A.R. now for a month or so. I think it’s amazing. And especially because it embodies everything that you’re great at — your multi-syllabic rhyme schemes and all these lofty words journalists toss on as to describe your talent. I also feel like it’s very honest. It does embody some of the rage that’s happening in America right now in a lot of ways. And it does that without sounding bitter. Then I think about you as an artist and the way you can do a song with D’Angelo then turn around and do a song with Styles P. You can write tracks for Diddy and then you can drop a “Simon Says.” There’s a lot of range in what you’re able to do, the boxes you can step into. How do you foster that or cultivate that over the course of your career?

PM: I think I can attribute it to a couple of things which is trying to stay honest. As I’m at Rawkus and they’re merging into Geffen/MCA and they’re throwing these names at me about artists they want me to do songs with, I’m like, “I just can’t.” I can’t pull that off. I really think that one that’s true with Hip-Hop, whether it’s that, whether it’s this, I think the fan notices your honesty. Like my manager was saying, Will.I.Am is so honest in his pop-ness; in his willingness to make these songs that it’s all the way that. It’s Super Bowl that. It’s “I GOT A FEELING!” — so that. You got to make a decision where your line is and where you want to be. At that point, I was just like, “I can’t. The risk of this shit ruining my career, I can’t take that risk.”

TWV: Who did they want you to work with?

PM: Excuse me?

TWV: What artist did they suggest you work with?

READ THE FULL INTERVIEW ON THEWELLVERSED.COM

We Are At W.A.R. -- Pharoahe Monch Interview

Pharoahe Monch looks to be in a good place these days.

Sitting in Duck Down’s Chelsea office, snacking on an egg roll, sipping on a Smart Water — well documented label limbos years behind him, talking W.A.R. and the future before him. Creative independence fits Monch like the fitted cream colored ribbed knit he’s rocking beneath his fur-collared, bulky army vest. His demeanor is much more reserved than the raucous rhyme slinger known best for commanding crowds to “Get the fuck up!” Yet, his conversational word choice is as intricate and seemingly limitless as any of the roaming, multisyllabic rhyme schemes now synonymous with his name. It’s calming and disarming all at once.

The Well Versed and the Queens Emcee covered much ground in this thirty-three minute interview. We discussed his writing process and “Assassins” with personalities. We talked politics and police brutality and production choices. We talked the transition from his seminal verse on “Stray Bullet” to Nas’ “I Gave You Power,” the bidding war between Sony, Bad Boy and SRC for his 2007 LP, Desire, and why he needed Jay-Z to hear it before he made a decision. We talked what still surprises him about Hip-Hop, and of course, his upcoming release 2011, We Are Renegades.

The Well Versed: “I have no dead bodies to claim. / Never been a trigger man. / Crack never penned that. / Opposite of Jiggaman / Doubled my expectancy, / Can you believe it? / And look no bullet wounds. / Not parapalegic. / Still standing like the Pledge of Allegiance.” Thats a real triumphant way to start off the second verse on “Still Standing” [off your upcoming album, W.A.R.] For me, it screams a lot about your legacy, or at least what I think about when I think of Pharoahe Monch. Your mic skills are legendary. Your catalog is otherworldly and unfortunately slim for fans who are more used to anticipating your next release rather than getting new material from you. But now you’re here at Duck Down. Is this a more stable situation? Are the flood gates open? Can we expect a lot of Monch material after this album?

Pharoahe Monch: Well, I think you can. I don’t want to make it black and white as to why [there has been gaps between releases]. I’m a thoughtful writer. I take my time writing. “Clap” for example, I got the beat a long time ago. Started jotting down stuff early in advance because I knew what I wanted the metaphor to be and then the Sean Bell incident happened. And not that I struggled writing the song, it’s that I put that down and started working on W.A.R. I started thinking about space age polymers to create capsules to fly out of space. Whatever. I toured and then the Oscar Grant situation happened and the Aiyana Jones situation happened and it fueled something real. So, what you’re kind of pausing for is to really not rhyme for the sake of riddling but to really find real emotion to be like, “I’m really angry.” I don’t have [a studio] in my crib, so I couldn’t just be angry and set something up and be angry and then fix it, you know. I would watch the news and be pissed and speak to people and be bottled up about the Sean Bell situation and felt powerless about it. And then, two weeks later, I would have to kind of rekindle that in the studio. There’s a lot of, [I] don’t want to say acting but, let’s be honest about these feelings when you’re writing these songs. Or better yet, when you’re performing this stuff that you wrote down. It’s not just “some shit, some shit, yeah Sean Bell.” I’m trying to pull that out. So, those type of things take time. I hope that you don’t only hear the words but you feel the sentiment in certain parts of that song.

And that’s really it, man. The label — we started W.A.R. Media. We did a joint venture which allows me to have freedom about my thought process going in and making songs. From a lot of different perspectives, one thing that it changed was that [this album] is mine, literally. So, there has been a little bit more care. And let’s say this is my child and I’m trying to birth it, bring it to the studio, I was very selective about people. Engineers. You had to have a degree of love. You want to engineer, fine, but let me play you some music, see if you’re into it and if you’re into it and you’re like, “I like what you’re doing,” then I want that energy on this record. This record couldn’t have been created without engineers cutting their fees, lending their services, doing favors, staying past the point. From Idris Elba, to Vernon Reid to Jill Scott being like, “I love what I heard. I want to be a part of it. Not because there’s going to be some type of monetary benefit but, I want to be a part of something that feels this way.” I hope that’s what comes across in the record and it takes time because obviously when you have a Rolodex, I can call this person, “Jump on this song,” and shit and, “Such and such did the beat. Listen to the beat. The beat is dope. Give me a sixteen.” That’s not what I was looking to do. Immortal [Technique] was strategically used. Phonte was strategically used. Styles P. Jean [Grae], although that’s the rappity-rap song on the album, I was like, “This is the point where I need these people to help me because I can’t rap my way out of this struggle by myself. Who am I going to get to help me?” So I hired these two “Assassins.” Assassins have personalities, too. Their human. One assassin might be an alcoholic, that might be Jean Grae. The other assassin might be late because he’s riding around with strippers and he has guns and shit, so where the fuck is he going to be? I’m trying to give the song personality instead of three really nice rappers just rapping on the song. And again, I don’t mean to be winded, that comes from me as a fan of Hip-Hop. As a consumer purchasing being music and being like, “What’s missing from it for me?” and being the change — I don’t mean to be cliche — that you want to see. I don’t think people take enough time to think, “This could have been thought out better.” Let me take the time to think it out better when I do my project, and that’s probably what takes a little more time.

TWV: I don’t think any of your projects fall into that, “Rhyming for the sake of riddling” mode. When you listen to “Desire,” everything is strategically placed. I think there is a reason Dwele did “Trilogy” — which is a masterpiece. And I think about the cinematic aspect of that song when listening to W.A.R. This album seems more scene based.

PM: That’s because I’m a starving, struggling script writer in my head and I see things that way. It’s the reason why Organized Konfusion [was created]: I think I’m ready to be in a group and rap and take it seriously as a career because I see something that me and Prince can implement and that’s our love for comic books and film and karate and Godzilla and King Kong and being cinematic. I think that was really our forte in what we’re trying to bring to the game so that those likeminded people, when they sat down [they could visualize it]. Will.I.Am told me one time that when he got [Stress: The Extinction Agenda] album, he went into his room or his apartment and he was chilling with his man and they put a red T-shirt over the lamp. I want people to listen to my records like that. That’s how I am. You’ve got to be what you want. If I was a consumer, I would be on the train like, “I’m going to wait until I get home [before listening to it].” That’s what I love about the shit. The Rakim and the Black Star and the albums that made me think that way. Like, “What were they thinking when they did the shit?” The [Public Enemy’s] and so forth. It’s a shame that we got away from that because it’s not tangible anymore and people do disposable music because it became popular that the quantity became more important than the quality. And I understood why that was, but I was never a mixtape dude so I couldn’t produce as fast as a lot of artists were doing it. I’m just lucky enough to have kind of passed — not saying that that’s over with — kind of passed through that period and I think people are appreciating something that’s thought out. I don’t know how quality it is yet. The people will decide that. But I can tell that they know that I put some effort into thinking about the fucking record.

TWV: You mentioned the Stress album. “Stray Bullet” is fascinating to me. When I hear “Stray Bullet” and then I hear “When The Gun Draws” — it’s kind a continuation on the same extended metaphor. Then you have Nas’s “I Gave You Power” and Tupac’s “Me And My Bitch” where they play off the same themes. And those two are probably the most well known songs using that concept. Have you ever talked Nas about the transition from “Stray Bullet” to “I Gave You Power?” Did he borrow from that or extend on “Stray Bullet?”

PM: Let me see if I can discuss this conversation in an interview…hmmm [Laughs].

READ THE FULL INTERVIEW @THEWELLVERSED.COM

Anthems Interrupted - The Downside to the 2009 Brooklyn Hip Hop Festival

“They givin‘ us the boot, man. They tellin‘ us we gotta go, man!” - Pharoahe Monch’s DJ

Pharoahe Monch’s raucous headlining performance met an unfortunate fate during the 2009 Brooklyn Hip Hop Festival. Midway into the first hook of his classic anthem, “Simon Says” - just as Monch writhed into his groove, spitting “New York City, gritty committee pitty a fool that act shitty in the midst of the calm and witty” as the capacity tent rhymed along with the Queens bred Emcee - his DJ unexpectedly cut production, bellowing “They givin‘ us the boot man! They tellin‘ us we gotta go, man!”

On a micro level, the metaphorical “WTF??” unleashed by those in attendance reflected the collective frustration behind witnessing this festival’s apogee castrated by an imposed curfew. Pharoahe Monch was the headlining performer. “Simon Says” is his most popular song and an immediate party starter anywhere in the Hip Hop Universe. A live performance of that track, karaoke or otherwise, should NEVER be interrupted.

FACT.

Where the micro view bred frustration, the macro breeds concern. Not only was Monch’s anthemic performance of “Simon Says” curtailed at its apex, but his scheduled 30 minute set was severed at the nineteen-minute-and-forty-four-second mark. Attending fans were denied ten-minutes-and-sixteen-seconds of the headlining action!

The assumption is that a series of overages in earlier performances led to the headliner’s time reduction. Similarly to Pharoahe Monch, Styles P’s DJ - exclaiming “We gotta get up outta here!” - bogarted “I Get High” like a shot clock violation. Looking back over BHF’s past, Ghostface Killah (2007) and KRS-One (2008) received less egregious interruptions (neither had their production shut off), but the same issue persisted - headlining performances were penalized by the time constraint.

The BHF packs in so many acts and artists (and politicians) that headlining acts are penalized. The build and pace of the festival is great. Generally speaking, each performer brings more energy and more fans to the event than the previous, allowing for a beautifully rising cascade of Hip Hoppery. But given The Brooklyn Bridge Park Conservancy’s curfew, any potential overage is subtracted from the acts The City paid to see. Styles P and Pharoahe both had anthems interrupted. ANTHEMS!! As a festival organizer, live music planner, or paying concert-goer, this is the most unacceptable outcome.

Perhaps this is one of the reasons why Summer Jam and Rock The Bells host festivals outside of NYC. Both events are more established in patronage, Giants Stadium and Jones Beach Amphitheater are much larger venues (than Empire Fulton Ferry State Park), and both shows rock much later than 8 o’clock. Are New Jersey and Long Island more accepting of late running concerts than Brooklyn or New York? How much higher is the cost within The City than in other cities in the tri-state area? What is the effect on ticket prices if the curfew is extended?

Or maybe Brooklyn Bodega’s proposed solution was circumvented by the rainy day. The initial two stage format - newer acts performing on the Second Stage, Main Stage reserved for the headliners - was condensed into one stage for weather related reasons . How would the 2-stage format have effected each artist’s time allotment? Would the Main Stage have been set up by the river a la 07 and 08 BHF’s and the Second Stage within the Tobacco Warehouse? Would there have been a scheduled overlap between stages allowing two acts to perform simultaneously? Would that set up have provided better time spacing allowing Styles P and Pharoahe Monch to rock longer?

Could it be that the artists themselves caused this problem? Are headlining acts accustomed to more lenient venue operating hours and longer set times? dead prez, Styles, and Monch rock longer sets “on the reg” (word to Kenny Powers). Are the artists the reason The City shut us down right as we were about to climax?

Does the BHF need an earlier start time? Should there be fewer scheduled acts or shorter set times? Is adding an extra day the solution? What is keeping NYC’s largest Hip Hop festival from extending past 8pm?

If the strategy is to continue growing the BHF as it has over the past 5 years, then Brooklyn Bodega seriously needs to find a way to give the people all of what they want (and paid to see). These questions must be addressed. No organization wants to be known for cutting the paramount performances. The headliners are the ones moving the tickets. Never should they be the one’s Sandman’d off stage Apollo-style.

FACT.

In the end, its Brooklyn Bodega's choice to address this situation. Either way, the Bodega Fam deserves props and recognition for once again assembling a mostly fantastic Hip Hop experience for both artists and fans at an affordable price. I mean, how can I complain? I’d pay $10 to witness a live set from any of these acts.

Shortened sets or otherwise, it feels like I stole something.

[Editors Note] Pharoahe Monch was allowed to finish his performance of "Simon Says"