Author Topic: The ultimate N.W.A family interview thread *magazine scans,reviews etc.*  (Read 12730 times)


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Re: The ultimate N.W.A family interview thread *magazine scans,reviews etc.*
« Reply #175 on: August 02, 2008, 12:27:21 PM »
watching it now ;)

Chad Vader

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Re: The ultimate N.W.A family interview thread *magazine scans,reviews etc.*
« Reply #176 on: August 03, 2008, 05:26:55 PM »
N.W.A recording Approach To Danger
<a href=";hl=en" target="_blank" class="new_win">;hl=en</a>


Chad Vader

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Re: The ultimate N.W.A family interview thread *magazine scans,reviews etc.*
« Reply #177 on: August 06, 2008, 12:32:25 PM »
Day of the Dre One nation under a G thang Jonathan GoldPosted Sep 30, 1993 12:00 AM

Leimert Park is the intellectual center of African American life in Los Angeles -- jazz clubs, coffeehouses, bookstores, art galleries, a theater in a fine old movie palace, the restaurants that draw people from all over town. Neatly suited Muslims stand on the street corners, offering newsletters and bean pies for sale. Reggae blasts on the record shops. Hip-hop blasts from the cars. Here, in an Ozzie and Harriet-like Leimert Park neighborhood just a few blocks from the swank black-owned mansions of Windsor Hills, rap star Dr. Dre, wearing a black Ben Davis shirt, baggy pants and a marijuana-leaf baseball cap that advertises his best-selling album The Chronic, shrugs himself into the driver's seat of a black '64 Chevrolet Impala convertible and reaches under the dash. Suddenly, the parked car leans sharply to one side, the right body panel striking the asphalt with a violent thunk. Just as abruptly, it rights itself, and the front end of the car begins to hop up and down just as you've seen it do a thousand times on MTV. Dre glances back at his entourage with the classic "Look, no hands" smirk of a guy who has always been Mom's favorite, and the Impala rears like a spooked stallion.

A tall man wearing a black Dodgers cap snorts and shakes his head "Damn," he says. "Nigga can't get enough of that shit."

Dr. Dre -- the ex-N.W.A member whose Chronic LP, eight months in the Billboard Top 10, is already the most popular hardcore rap album in history (2 million and counting), with a huge crossover audience -- is directing, producing and starring in his third video for The Chronic, which will see him through his extensive fall tour. He also produced, performed and co-wrote the song "Let Me Ride," on which this video is based. However you look at it, Dre is carrying a lot of hyphens today.

A full-on film crew, the kind you'd expect to see doing second-unit work on Terminator III or something, follows his every move with a giant camera crane and a phalanx of big lights. Dre finishes the take, springs out of the car and wanders over to the truck for a video playback of the scene. He peers in the direction of Interscope Records co-head Jimmy Iovine, who smiles and waves. Dre is apparently in control and Iovine is pleased.

"There aren't three people like him in the music business," Iovine says, stabbing the air with his forefinger. "He can rap, he can produce ... and he can direct a video with humor. Do you know how hard that is? Famous movie directors can't do that."

Dre, who signs his checks Andre Young and who is the chief architect of what is known as West Coast gangsta rap, is an enigma: Though he created one of the most profitable genres in rock & roll, he is better known for his out-of-control episodes than for his absolute control in the studio, better known for his criminal record than for his many platinum records. Mentions of Dre in the Los Angeles Times, his hometown paper, tend to include the phrase "surrendered to police," and he is perhaps the first recording artist since Sly Stone whose name shows up almost as often on the police-report page as it does in the entertainment section. Plenty of newsprint has been devoted to his thuggishness, relatively less to his artistry --which may be on a par with Phil Spector's or Quincy Jones'.

Gangsta rap tends to be a producer's medium: The talent on Dre's million-selling albums has included a pal of his cousin's, his girlfriend and a former buddy, Eazy-E, who intended to finance Dre's records instead of rap on them. Record-industry buzz has it a sure bet that the upcoming record he's producing for his kid brother's best friend, Snoop Doggy Dogg, will be the first debut album to premiere at the top of the charts. From Snoop's cameos on The Chronic and from his rap on the theme song for last year's Larry Fishburne vehicle Deep Cover, Snoop's lazy, vicious drawl has become one of the most familiar voices in rap. Dre's records make you bounce even as they scare you with their intensity.

The Dre sound is clean but edgy, deeply funky, featuring slow, big-bottomed, slightly dirty beats and powered by guitar and bass work that is not sampled but recreated in the studio, so that -- unlike East Coast rap productions -- the fidelity of the final product is not inflected by the fidelity of scratchy R&B records that have been played too many times. It is Dre's production work -- on Eazy-E, on N.W.A, on rap legend D.O.C., on Pomona group Above the Law, on Snoop Doggy Dogg, on himself -- that made gangsta rap among the most vital pop genres to come along in the last few years ... and, not incidentally, set hundreds of thousands of 12-year-old white kids to talking about niggaz, bitches and hos, 12-year-olds who may not even know what a G thang is.

Check out the junior high school around the corner, where the video shoot continues -- lights, screens, music, people and dozens of hopping lowrider cars, chugging, smoke-spewing old relics burnished to a high shine, bounding and rebounding higher and higher, tossing their passengers about like so many extremely urban cowboys. If you peek into the trunk of any these cars, you will see 14 car batteries hooked up in series and a row of hydraulic motors mounted where you'd expect to see the spare tire, but you'd better get out of the way when it starts to jump. One of these cars bounds so high that its owners operate it from the outside with a stalk-mounted remote control device as if it were a Revell model -- instant whiplash --and the crowd scatters when the car lurches sideways after a particularly wicked bounce.

Pounding P-Funk-derived hip-hop beats boil out from the bank of speakers a few yards away, and a camera-equipped helicopter circles closely overhead. Dre stands on the front seat of his convertible, glorying in the noise, surveying his flock as if he were the grand marshal of a parade, and he crosses his arms in smug satisfaction.

An assistant director hands him a megaphone. Apparently Dre is now obliged to direct. "I don't know," Dre the auteur says. "I guess everybody should do their own thing and shit."

The beat starts up, Dre mimes rapping along with the tape, cars jiggle, Snoop Doggy Dogg sleepily bobs his head, and all around are men and women, Mexicans and blacks and even a few white guys, dancing, holding car-club insignia aloft, throwing gang signs both real and pretend, passing around piss yellow bottles of malt liquor that seem to bob like zeppelins above the crowd. Over to one side, a craps game is going on; make-out couples writhe here and there.

It's kind of groovy out here under the golden late-afternoon sun, free barbeque, dancing to the ambling music, feeling like just another boy in the hood. This is the sort of idyllic, Arcadian vision of inner-city Los Angeles that everybody wants desperately to exist, were crooked C's and flashed eight-treys are less signifier than signified, where ancient convertibles bounce around the playground like fleas on a hot griddle. Abruptly, the music grinds to a halt.

"Hey, hey," an assistant director barks through a megaphone. "I've just been told that nothing we shot is usable, because y'all were throwing gang signs. MTV won't play anything with gang signs. And if y'all want to throw them, you'll have to go home."

Everything is silent for a moment, and you can feel the tension in the crowd, the good times threatening to implode. Then the music starts up again even louder than before, a couple of people start to dance, and the anger dissolves into relief. No more gang signs, no more today.

Iovine nervously checks his watch. "See that kid over there?" he asks nobody in particular, gesturing toward a boy scampering on the basketball court. "That's my 12-year-old nephew from Staten Island. You couldn't get more white and suburban than him. But Dre's record is all the kid listens to. When you sell this many albums, they are not all going to the South Bronx."

"It's my business to know these things," Interscope's promotion director Marc Benesch says later, "and there's no difference between the people that are going out and buying the Dre album and people that are buying Guns n' Roses."

To get to Dr. Dre's house, you speed west from Hollywood, past the miniature golf courses, past the replica of a French chateau that hovers over the freeway like a mirage, out over the hills at the west end of the San Fernando Valley into a dusty Western scrub-land where the old Tom Mix films used to be shot. Dre's oversize French colonial is located deep in this landscape of greasewood and brand-new condominium complexes, behind the well-guarded gate of an exclusive residential community. Dre lives among doctors and attorneys and prosperous Valley businessmen on a street of million-dollar homes.

Like any West Valley homeowner, when Dre gets home, he parks his car in the garage, hangs up his jacket and settles back with a glass of nicely chilled white zinfandel, listening to the twilight crickets and lounging in a patio chair by the pool. Dre has been playing hooky today, installing an aquarium in his house and tooling around nearby mountain roads in his Ferrari while his mastering guy was wondering where he was and, across town, the musicians were watching Cosby reruns in the recording-studio lounge. The video for "Let Me Ride" is far from finished, and Interscope is whining for the half-finished album by Snoop Dogg, and there's a lot to be done for the once-postponed Chronic tour with Onyx and Run-D.M.C., which is now less than a month away from starting.

"I can remember when I was just like about 4 years old in Compton," Dre says, gazing out at the moon, "and my mother would have me stack 45s, stack about 10 of them, and when one would finish, the next record would drop. Do you remember those old record players that played 45s? It was like I was DJ'ing for the house, picking out certain songs and stacking them so this song would go after that song. I would go to sleep with headphones on, listening to music. My mom and my pop -- they would have music so loud, loud enough to shake the walls.

"I've got a son, Marcel," Dre continues, "not even 3 years old, but he gets in one of those roller chairs at the studio and pulls himself to the board and starts fucking with the knobs, rocking his head and shit. He don't even know what he's doing, he's just been watching me, but he has crazy rhythm for a 2-year-old.

"The music is just in me now, you know. That's the only thing I can say. People ask me how I come up with these hits, and I can only say that I know what I like, and I'm quick to tell a motherfucker what I don't like and know what people like to play in their cars."

Dre takes a pull at the wine and puts his glass down on the table.

"When I was older," Dre says, "and I DJ'ed at [the Los Angeles dance club] Eve After Dark, I would put together this mix shelf, lots of oldies, Martha and the Vandellas and stuff like that, and where normally you go to a club and the DJs play all the hit records back to back, I used to put on a serious show. People would come from everywhere just to see Dr. Dre on the wheels of steel.

"A little later, I used to take Ice Cube up to Skateland in Compton -- he was in a group with my cousin at the time -- and I would tell him that with this crowd you'd better get up and rock, because if you didn't, they'd throw these full cups at your ass. I would have Cube and my cousin change the words to certain songs -- like 'My Adidas' became 'My Penis' -- and the crowd would get going, and I'd be mixing. That was the dope."

Inside the house, someone has turned on the stereo, and out in the yard, it is loud, deafening like sitting in the front row at a Megadeth concert, enough to make the fillings rattle inside your teeth before Dre has it turned down.

"Do your neighbors ever complain?" I ask.

Dre thinks for a moment. "They try to," he says, "but I slam the door in their face. I paid a mil-plus for this house, so I figure I can do whatever the fuck I want to do in it."

He gestures to either side, where the leviathan luxury homes crowd in like so many Levittown tract houses. "As far as I'm concerned," he says, "this house right here is the only house on the block."

What's important in hip-hop is to capture the pop moment, to cop the right attitudes from your peers and the right records from your mom's record collection, then put them together with the right beats. Nothing else really matters, not verbal virtuosity or deftness on the turntables, neither 48-track studios nor high-tech production skills.

Dre, tall, round cheeked and in his late 20s, a founding member of N.W.A, was until last year the house producer for Eazy-E's Ruthless Records, and seven out of the eight albums he produced for the label between the end of 1983 and the middle of 1981 went platinum. Ruthless used to be called hoodlum Motown: Gangsta rap, the funky, breathtakingly vulgar street sound inspired by the gang-infested Los Angeles suburb Compton, is the most successful California export since the Stealth bomber, and N.W.A are acknowledged as the Sex Pistols of rap. Dre pretty much singlehandedly steered Ruthless from the first gangsta single, Eazy-E's "Boyz-n-the-Hood," J.J. Fad's simple-minded novelty hit "Supersonic" and N.W.A's "Fuck the Police" to a hip-hop diva album for a girlfriend, Michel'le, and the ghetto Gotterdammerung of N.W.A's Niggaz4life, which shocked America when it topped the pop charts. Dre caught the moment pretty well.

Many observers thought gangsta rap had reached its pinnacle with the brilliant though unlistenable Niggaz4life, where side one includes a song in which a common vulgar epithet for African American is repeated nearly 100 times in the course of three minutes and where the misogynist tenor of the second side may be summed up by the titles of the first two tracks: "To Kill a Hooker" and "One Less Bitch." Inspired by N.W.A, Ice-T, 2Pac and various other California rappers wrote so many songs about killing policemen that the subject threatened to become a subgenre as pervasive in hip-hop as the she-done-him-wrong ballad is in Nashville pop.

After breaking with Ruthless over what he perceived as severe underpayment for seven platinum albums, Dre was seen by many outsiders as living out the violence that previously he had only rapped about. Rap TV-show host Dee Barnes filed a yet-unresolved multimillion-dollar assault suit against Dre after he allegedly slammed her against the wall of a Hollywood nightclub a couple of years ago. "I was in the wrong," he angrily told me not long after the incident, "but it's not like I broke the bitch's arm."

Comments like these propelled Dre to No. 1 on hip-hop feminists' hit list as well the Billboard ones, and the merry gangsta banter on The Chronic, which refers to a potent strain of marijuana, is not precisely redemptive. Even the most politically correct of hip-hop fans may occasionally, to their horror, find themselves humming such undeniable Dre hooks as "Bitches ain't shit but hos and trix," giggling when the women in his videos get sprayed with malt liquor by a couple of G's, even if they recoil at the constant gunplay and the reflexive homophobia. On Dre tracks from "Boyz-n-the-Hood" to "Let Me Ride," life is truly nothing but a G thang, a constant B-boy house party where male bonding is the rule, women are attractive nuisances, and enemies are something to wave guns at from a safe distance. Dre dismisses concerns about sexism and ultraviolence as so much media paranoia.

Last year part of his house burned down in a conflagration that injured two firefighters. Later he was arrested by mounted police in a New Orleans hotel lobby after a fracas that allegedly resulted in the battery of an officer. His former colleague Eazy-E sued him under federal racketeering laws -- the suit was recently dismissed for the third time by a U.S. district court judge. Then Dre was convicted (misdemeanor assault) of breaking the jaw of an aspiring record producer, shackled with a tracking device and sentenced to house arrest.

Dre has perfectly rational explanations for most of these incidents, and he seems believable when he tells you that his part in each of them was minor at best, but it is clear that for Dre, 1992 was a lost year of John Lennon-like proportions.

"I needed a record to come out," Dre says. "I was broke. I didn't receive one fuckin' quarter in the year of '92, because Ruthless spent the year trying to figure out ways not to pay me so that I'd come back on my hands and knees. If I had to go back home living with my mom, that wasn't going to happen."

When called for a response, Jerry Heller, the general manager of Ruthless and the white man satirized in the 'Dre Day' video, rustled some papers and pulled out Dre's 1099 tax form for the year. In 1992, Heller claims, Dre received $85,603.81 from Ruthless. Still, when Dre thinks about Ruthless, his face contorts with rage.

"I went to a lot of record companies, tried even to get a little production work to pay for rent and shoes," Dre says, "but nobody wanted to take a chance on me because of all that legal shit, all the cease-and-desist letters -- Ruthless did anything and everything they could to fuck me up, and I have hate for everybody there. Then at Interscope, I talked to Jimmy Iovine a lot, and he is like the smartest motherfucker in the business; I came to him with the album, the artwork, the concepts for the videos, everything and Jimmy made it happen."

Dre got the label, Death Row, he'd always wanted, the money to run it and carte blanche to make all the albums he wanted.

"I did record The Chronic in 1992," Dre says. "The year was not a total loss." Like this and like that and like this and a ...

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a rapper in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a posse.

There are Hugg and Nate Dogg and Kurupt around Dre, and a rapper who calls himself That Nigga Daz, also preteen Lil' Malik, a peculiarly coifed woman named Rage and Dre's younger brother Warren G, who just signed a solo deal with DefJam. Over there on the couch, playing Nintendo, that's D Ruff: David Ruffin Jr., the Detroit-born son of the late Temptations singer, who's come to California to make himself a star. D Ruff's friend Tony Green is Dre's bass player, a world-class R&B pro.

Suge Knight, it is known, is a first among equals, the soft-spoken CEO of Death Row, a former professional football player who looks every bit the part. Suge partially subsidized the Chronic album with monies he received from his ownership of certain publishing rights to the 14-million-selling Vanilla Ice LP, which would mark that artist's sole contribution to the art of hardcore rap.

The guy in the hat is Ricky Rouse, a guitarist with a quick temper and some of the dandyish flair of Jimi Hendrix; Malik is the compact, heavily muscled bodyguard who speaks in carefully measured tones; the D.O.C. is a large, graceful man who was once among the world's best rappers -- he played the English language the way Itzhak Perlman plays a Strad -- until his career was cut short by a freak automobile accident that crushed his throat and left him unable to rap.

The most famous member of the Death Row entourage is Snoop Doggy Dogg, a tall, slender young man with milk-chocolate skin and cornrows as thick as cobs, who is Robin to Dre's Batman, Boswell to his Johnson, Gilligan to Dre's Skipper. Impossible to take your eyes off of, Snoop is as endearingly awkward in front of a camera as a 10-year-old forced to model his new Sunday-school suit in front of all the aunties. Where Dre is aloof and unapproachable in public, children swarm around Snoop as if he were driving an ice-cream truck. Snoop wrote the rhymes for --and rapped on -- about 60 percent of The Chronic.

How eagerly anticipated is Snoop's album Doggystyle? Two weeks before the album is scheduled to hit the streets, Dre refuses to let even Iovine listen to more than two songs outside of the studio, and the tenacious Compton bootleggers have been stymied in their quest to pry loose more than a few rhymes, but every hip-hop fan you talk to already knows the names of the album tracks by heart: "Who Am I," "Gin and Juice," "Death After Visualizing Eternity," "G's Up, Hos Down."

The answer to the musical question "Who Am I," the first single from Doggystyle, turns out to be "the nigga with the biggest nuts," which may be a little closer to Beavis and Butt-Head than to the defiant acts of African American self-assertion postulated by hip-hop theorists. Snoop is this year's version of the teenage B-boy Everyman, not a suave fellow insinuating his prowess with the ladies, but a G just like you.

And as he perches on a stool inside a darkened studio utility room, taking in a whispered drawl and inhaling chicken wings from a bucket like a man who hasn't eaten for a week, Snoop does indeed seem more like the cutup in the back of your algebra class than the gangsta feared by millions.

"Everybody wants to know something about Snoop," Snoop says. "What is it about Snoop? What makes Snoop click? It's cool being a mystery."

Snoop peels back the flesh from a wing: "I wasn't no gangster-ass type of nigga to be starting no shit, but there's just all kinds of little ghetto stuff that's easy for a young black man to get into. The hard-ass gangbanger life ain't the bomb at all, period. The other day I was looking at an old picture from back when I used to play Pop Warner football, and like of 28 homies on the team, 12 are dead, seven are in the penitentiary, three of them are smoked out, and only me and Warren G are successful. I love my homies, but damn, I don't want to stay down there with y'all."

When he was only a couple of weeks out of high school in Long Beach, Snoop was sent up after a drug bust, and he spent three years in and out of jail. He came to the realization that rapping might be a more profitable endeavor than crime. His first single with Dre, from the Deep Cover soundtrack, included the chorus "187 [murder] on an undercover cop," rapped with perhaps a bit more gusto than one might expect, and the single spent several months on the rap charts.

"Now I do all right," Snoop says. "I feel like I'm one of the power speakers, like a Malcolm X figure now. But you know, a lot of times little white kids come up to me, and it makes me feel damn good and even better because it's the feeling of a straight ghetto man finally proving his stuff to the whole society. Sometimes I ask them if they really listen to the tape, and they know every word. I'm not prejudiced in my rap, I just kick the rhymes."

One of the places from which Dre's posse has been ejected in the course of recording the Snoop album is a large, comfortable studio complex in the deep San Fernando Valley, the kind of place where the mixing boards stretch into the middle distance, where the couches are real leather, where platinum albums from Thriller dot the walls. A freaky drum track pumps from the giant studio speakers, and Dre, headphones on, hunches over his turntables as intently as a neurosurgeon, surrounded by hundreds of records: Three Times Dope, early Funkadelic, Prince's Dirty Mind, even a tattered Jim Croce LP.

Listening to a Dre beat take shape in the studio is like watching a snowball roll downhill in a Bugs Bunny cartoon, taking on mass as it goes. Dre may find something he likes from an old drum break, loop it and gradually replace each part with a better tom-tom sound, a kick-drum sound he adores, until the beat bears the same relationship to the original that the Incredible Hulk does to Bill Bixby.

A bass player wanders in, unpacks his instrument and pops a funky two-note bass line over the beat, then leaves to watch CNN, though his two notes keep looping into infinity. A smiling guy in a striped jersey plays a nasty one-fingered melody on an old Mini-Moog synthesizer that's been obsolete since 1982, and Dre scratches in a sort of surfadelic munching noise, and then from his well-stocked Akai MPC60 sample comes a shriek, a spare piano chord, an ejaculation from the first Beastie's record -- "Let me clear my throat" -- and the many-layered groove is happening, bumping, breathing, almost loud enough to see.

Snoop floats into the room. He closes his eyes as if in a dream and extends both hands toward Dre, palms downward. Dre holds out his hands, and Snoop grazes his fingertips with a butterfly flourish, caught up in the ecstasy of the beat. Somebody hands Snoop a yellow legal pad. The rapper wanders over to the main mixing console, fishes a skinny joint out of his pocket and tenderly fires it up. He inhales deeply. He picks up a pencil and scribbles a couple of words before he decides to draw instead, and he fills the sheet in front of him with thick, black lines. He looks around the room for something more interesting to do than draw, and his sly canine leer settles on a visitor to the studio.

"You like this beat?" Snoop asks. "Think it's going to work? I think I'm going to call this one 'Eat a Dick,' about all the punk-ass niggaz who ain't down with the Row."

Daz and Snoop, who have heard this before, convulse into laughter.

Daz and Snoop and Kurupt slouch over their legal pads, peeking over each others' shoulders like the kids cheating on an exam. Daz gets to practice his new rap in a back corner away from the others; Kurupt wheels his chair over toward Snoop and says, "I've got the shit, man. I've got the crazy shit." Snoop listens to his friend rap for a bit, shrugs and goes back to his own rhyme. Kurupt is crushed. Dre comes in from the lounge, twists a few knobs on the Moog and comes up with the synthesizer sound so familiar from The Chronic, almost on pitch but not quite, sliding a bit between notes.

The people in the crowded control room bob their heads to the beat in unison, the way baby pelicans do in nature films just before their parents regurgitate a fish. It's too funky in here. Dre puts his feet up on the console.

"Everybody who walks has something he or she can do in the studio," Dre says. "Every person walking has some kind of talent that they can get on tape. I can take anybody who reads this magazine and make a hit record on him. You don't have to rap. You can do anything. You can go into the studio and talk. I can take a fuckin' 3-year-old and make a hit record on him. God has blessed me with this gift.

"Sometimes it feels good for me to be able to mold an artist and get him a hit record and to show him something that was inside of him that he didn't know about. It feels good to me. Everybody in the business has called me to try and do some tracks, but I can't see myself doing anything for somebody who already has money, you know. I get more joy out of getting somebody like Snoop. And it excites the shit out of me to see the reaction on a new artist's face when he gets asked for his first autograph. I tell Snoop all the time: He is going to be the biggest shit, Snoop is going to be the biggest thing to black people since the straightening comb."

Tomorrow, Dre will throw away this Doggy Dogg beat and start on another.

"Did you see," Dre asks, "all those reels that are in the studio?"

They are unavoidable, piled up as thickly as an adobe wall.

"There's 35 or 36 reels of Snoop in there," Dre says. "Each reel holds three songs. So far, I have five that I like. That's just a small example of how ... how deep I'm going into this album. I feel that the tracks that I'm doing for him right now are the future of the funk.

"I've never heard the perfect hip-hop album, but I'd like to make one. The Chronic is about the closest. Public Enemy's Nation of Millions was dope as hell. Eric B and Rakim, their first album, I really liked a lot, and Boogie Down Productions, Criminal Minded was def."

It is suggested N.W.A's Straight Outta Compton is a pretty good album, too.

"To this day," Dre says, "I can't stand that album. I threw that thing together in six weeks so we could have something to sell out of the trunk."

Still, Straight Outta Compton codified the myth of the urban black gangsta and sold that myth to America.

"People are always telling me my records are violent," Dre says, "that they say bad things about women, but those are the topics they bring up themselves. This is the stuff they want to write about. They don't want to talk about the good shit because that doesn't interest them, and it's not going to interest their readers. A lot of the motherfuckers in the media are big hypocrites, you know what I'm saying? If I'm promoting violence, they're promoting it just as much as I am by focusing on it in the article. That really bugs me out -- you know, if it weren't going on, I couldn't talk about it. I mean, you will never hear me rapping about Martians coming down and killing motherfuckers, because it's not happening. And who came up with that term gangsta rap anyway?"

"Dre," I say. "You did."

"Oh, maybe so." Dre says. "Never mind, then."

[From Issue 666 — September 30, 1993]



  • Guest
Re: The ultimate N.W.A family interview thread *magazine scans,reviews etc.*
« Reply #178 on: August 07, 2008, 04:58:11 AM »
good job:D

Chad Vader

  • Guest
Re: The ultimate N.W.A family interview thread *magazine scans,reviews etc.*
« Reply #179 on: August 15, 2008, 03:07:32 PM »
Jakced this from MisterX so prop him  ;)
Producer is an inadequate label for Andre “Dr. Dre” Young. In addition to personally changing hip-hop’s sound at least three time, first with N.W.A, then with his solo debut, The Chronic (Deathrow/Interscope, 1992), and then again with [Chronic 2001] (Aftermath/Interscope, 1999), he’s also shepherded three of rap’s biggest stars, ever- Snoop Dogg, Eminem, and 50 Cent- to pop superstardom. While Dr. Dre, 43, is a cultural force and a kingmaker, in his heart, he’s still a producer; from the fury of N.W.A’s 1988 “—- tha Police,” to the serpentine funk of his 1992 “Nuthin’ But a ‘G’ Thang,” to the tongue-in-cheek charm of Eminem’s 1999 “My Name Is” and the irresistible bump of 50 Cent’s 2003 “In da Club,” his music defines at least one, if not two generations. In July, Dre check in from– where else?– the studio, where he’s currently “three-fourths the way done” with his long, long-awaited Detox.

What were you doing in 1993?

Dr. Dre: Working on Snoop’s introduction album, Doggystyle.

You’ve had many hits, but you’ve also made stars of other artists. Luck, or labor?

The luck comes in by just meeting these people. These guys are talented as shit. They make me look good, you know what I mean? Once the luck passes, the labor comes in– and it’s definitely a lot of work.

Producing music, developing talent– do you draw on the same skill set?

It’s different. The music doesn’t talk back [laughs].

What’s the key to your track record?

I don’t take any shorts. I don’t say, “Okay, it’s good enough.” I try to get exactly what I’m hearing in my head to the tape, and I won’t let it move until then. In my opinion, some of the hip-hop records that come out, people are willing to compromise. I’m not.

Nineteen ninety-three was also the year after The Chronic. Did you anticipate the overwhelming response?

To be perfectly honest, I wasn’t sure. Before I got with Interscope, I recorded the entire album, artwork and everything and went into almost every label, and everybody was slamming doors on my, talking about, “This isn’t hip-hop; you’re using live instruments.” It had me second-guessing myself. I remember being on my balcony with Nate Dogg, listening to my record like, Is this shit good or not? I had no idea it would do what it did.

Do you see that as your defining effort?

I don’t feel like I’ve made my best record yet. The Marshall Mathers LP got the closest, but I don’t feel like I’ve hit that thing just 100 percent perfect, from the first note to the last note. I always use Quincy Jones as an example– he didn’t make his biggest record until he was 50 and he started when he was 14. So I feel like I have a lot of room to get that thing done.

Is “100 percent” achievable?

I’m not sure. But it’s definitely going to be a fun ride trying.

Also, the interviewer made a post on another web site and said that Dre said the Grow up song was a mistake and shouldn't have leaked.

"I interviewed him - briefly - today for this Vibe piece and in ending with the standard "so what are you up to now?" he mentioned he was 3/4ths the way through Detox (hey - his words, not mine) and I brought up the Bishop Lamont song and he told me, "yeah, that wasn't supposed to leak" and called it a "mistake" which I thought meant "the song just wasn't where it needed to be." So if people think it's weak, it sounds like D.R.E. would agree."

Chad Vader

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Re: The ultimate N.W.A family interview thread *magazine scans,reviews etc.*
« Reply #180 on: August 20, 2008, 05:30:52 AM »
“I’ma put my money where my mouth is,” says rapper Ice Cube of his decision to make his own Lench Mob Record his only recording home. While other rappers take the idea of independence only as far as some lip service or a stray mixtape, Ice Cube went all out. After years as a major label artist, Cube dropped his 2006 album Laugh Now, Cry Later, which went on to become the highest selling indie rap album of the year.

Not a bad look for O’Shea Jackson. But it shouldn’t be surprising considering his success in Hollywood’s shark infested waters and, of course, his run with those N bombs wit’ attitude. Cube is set to hit the screen again on August 22nd with the feel good football flick The Longshots, but not before dropping his eighth solo album, Raw Footage on August 19th. With rugged beats, gangsta bravado all held together with candid barbs of social commentary, the album is vintage Cube. But then again, Cube has never been one too stray too far from his gangsta rap pedigree. Read and watch for yourself. You’re always working working working, can you give us an idea of what you’ve been up to the last six months?
Ice Cube: We can go back even further. The start of the year we did a movie called The Longshots that will be out August 22. I was working on the album before we started the movie; like December [2007] a little over eight months, I started working on the album. Then I did the movie, after the movie I had to come back and finish the album. Then after I finished the album we did another movie with Mike Epps called Janky Promoters.
Soon as I finished that we went through Europe for 18 days. Played all through Europe then came back here for six days and jumped on the road again. Here I am, we tour til September 21st, keep it moving. How’s the reception been in Europe?
Ice Cube: Man they love it. They been waiting for me for a long time over there. The response was big, everything was selling out, people want me back so hopefully we’ll be back soon. You’re a Hip-Hop icon and a certified movie star, when do you find time to relax?
Ice Cube: Ya know, I get time, to relax. I usually take off three, four weeks at a time and just kick it and spend it with the fam. It look like I’m doing a hundred things but I make sure that I carve in my family time and all that, so it’s really not an issue. Was there a spark or incident that made you say, Ok, I’m going to start Raw Footage now?
Ice Cube: I knew I was going to do Raw Footage after Laugh Now, Cry Later. Laugh Now, Cry Later was more of an introduction back into the game, making sure people was aware that I could still do it. So it’s more of a record just to introduce me back into the Hip-Hop game and get people comfortable. Now since people are really open, it’s time to do a record like this, Raw Footage, to really get people back to where we were when I first started. In hindsight it was a great move because you did it independently, but running up to that point was there any hesitation?
Ice Cube: When I decided to go that route man I just went full speed. I just felt like win, lose or draw, I’ma put my money where my mouth is.  I’ma promote my record how I feel in my heart and whatever is the outcome is the outcome. With help from people like Tony Draper, Robert Red, Michael Pauly over at the Firm, Jeff Quinance, Tracy at 5WPR, that’s the team basically. Lench Mob Records really, that’s how we do.

We all sit down, we decide what we need to do and we push it. And I love it that way. Records sales really not concerned to me as much as doing it my way. And doing the kind of records I want to do. Without some A&R dude trying to tell me to go find T-Pain and get you a voice box. Ya know, all this stupid stuff that they do that mess up a lot of records, mess up a lot of artists. People think artists fall off but sometime their record company is responsible for a lot of that because they keep pushing them, more and more pop, pushing them, more and more pop. Did you get a lot of that too, despite your track record?
Ice Cube: Oh yeah, whenever you give a record to the radio team, here they come with something to say about the record instead of pushing the record. They start whispering to the A&R guys, the A&R guys start whispering to the president of the label, the president of the label, you know, want me to get T-Pain [laughing], that’s just how it go down. They always want somebody else hit. Try to do something like somebody else hit. I got sick of it, I was burnt out on it. And now I’m rejuvenated because I ain’t go to go through that anymore. Raw Footage is definitely you with the social commentary and the gangsta s**t, why drop this record now?
Ice Cube: I just think people been looking for social and political commentary in music for a longtime. Especially the real heads. Especially the ones in my bracket; around my age or even younger or older a little bit. We don’t want…dance raps is not going to do it for us. We need raps that’s real, raps that not talking about just the rapper but talking about that community and what’s going on. I just felt like people hungered for it.
In ‘93 this kind of rap was pushed to the back for more of the escapism, hanging in the club, drank, get your smoke on, cars, women. And now people know you can’t escape from your problems. People want to hear some solutions, or even damn just some suggestions. Anything to help them sidestep some of the pitfalls that’s out here. Can you talk about the creation of one of the album most powerful songs, “Why Me?”?
Ice Cube: I got the music first from Hallway Productions. I liked the music but I didn’t know what I was going to put on top of it. It’s a little more musical that I’m used to. My stuff is more beat heavy. I was sitting with it for a long time and then a homie I know got killed named Snag and it triggered something in me to write about it man; to write about all this violence, from the point of view of a victim. What if a victim could come back and talk to his shooter, what would he say? What would he say if he could talk to the man that killed you. Especially when it’s random.

It is one of the most powerful records that I’ve done in my whole career.  I put it up there with “Dead Homiez” which I did back on the Kill at Will EP back in the 90’s. I put it up there with that, one of the best records I’ve ever done. You got The Game on “Get Used To It” and there have been rumors that he’s going to join Westside Connection, is there any truth to that?
Ice Cube: Maybe [smiles]. Maybe. What’s the current situation with Westside Connection and Mack 10?
Ice Cube: Well me and Mack 10 we fell out, man, about five years ago. We just went our separate way. It ain’t no beef, it ain’t no animosity, it ain’t nothing like that. We just decided, Yo we can’t work together. I’m cool with that. I’m pretty sure he cool with that. That is what it is? As far as the fact that you have your rap image but you always having the ability to do your family friendly images, has that ever formed a conflict like, Should Cube be in this film?
Ice Cube: I don’t know. If those conversations happen, they don’t happen in my presence. I’m not really concerned about that. The people who have to wrap they minds around the fact that I do all kind of movies, just that these movies but, the people that have to wrap they heads around it is the people that have been fans from day one of the music. But everybody else can accept.

I look at it like this man, Hip-Hop is real life to me. Acting is just pretend. Movies is fake, it’s a character, it’s no way to me that you marry the two. Cause if I do a serial killer movie that don’t mean I’m a serial killer now. If I do a family friendly movie that don’t mean I done calmed down to the point I don’t know how to do hardcore Hip-Hop. To me it’s just a job, it’s fun to work on them kind of movies. I know a lot of people go to the movies to escape and that’s exactly what those movies are for, it’s an escape [from] reality. What’s your take on the Rick Ross situation?
Ice Cube: I ain’t got no take on it. It is what it is. Whether it’s him or not, he can rhyme. Anybody that’s from neighborhoods where we come from, got a story to tell. So everybody, “Keep it hood, I’m more ghetto than this one, I’m more blacker that one,” it’s bullshit. Anybody that come from the areas we come from got a story to tell. His credibility to me is intact. Your Ice Cube and anytime there is a top five list of greatest rappers, your name inevitable comes up. What does that mean to you?
Ice Cube: It’s like being put in the Hall of Fame. It’s something that you dream of, to be in that echelon, but you don’t know if you ever going to get there. You just keep working hard, you keep rhyming. If they put me there then I’ll feel like I’ve achieved everything I wanted to achieve in Hip-Hop; being considered one of the best. Ya know, I can kinda relax and keep it moving. I’ma keep doing what I’m doing.

<a href="" target="_blank" class="new_win"></a>
<a href="" target="_blank" class="new_win"></a>

Chad Vader

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Re: The ultimate N.W.A family interview thread *magazine scans,reviews etc.*
« Reply #181 on: August 26, 2008, 09:45:58 AM »
Dr. Dre & Eazy-E's Pool Party taken from the Niggaz4Life Home video. Censored Version
<a href="" target="_blank" class="new_win"></a>
If video loads slow, press the pause button and wait 1 -2 minutes for it to fully load and press the play button again

Niggaz4Life Home video

Genre: Nature
Movie Type: Biography, Vocal Music
Themes: Musician's Life
Director: Mark Gerard
Release Year: 1992
Country: US
Run Time: 60 minutes

One would be hard pressed to name a rap group who courted controversy more openly (and with greater success) than N.W.A.
From the open challenge of their name to their confrontational lyrics and the incendiary impact of their best-known song,
"F--- the Police," N.W.A. pulled no punches and made no apologies.
N.W.A.: The Only Home Video is an hour-long look at life with N.W.A.,
originally released right after their final album, Efil4zaggin, which features uncensored versions of three of the group's music videos,
"Appetite for Destruction," "Alwayz Into Somethin'," and "Approach to Danger." In addition,
this video features exclusive interviews with the members of the group,
footage of N.W.A. performing live on-stage, and an uncensored look at the
definitive gangsta rappers enjoying themselves at uninhibited pajama parties and pool parties. ~ Mark Deming, All Movie Guide

Mark Gerard - Director; Eric "Easy-E" Wright - Executive Producer

Chad Vader

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Re: The ultimate N.W.A family interview thread *magazine scans,reviews etc.*
« Reply #182 on: August 27, 2008, 12:59:08 AM »
BOX remembering Eazy-E;
<a href=";hl=en&amp;fs=1" target="_blank" class="new_win">;hl=en&amp;fs=1</a>

Chad Vader

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Re: The ultimate N.W.A family interview thread *magazine scans,reviews etc.*
« Reply #183 on: August 29, 2008, 06:14:25 AM »
***NEW Arabian Prince interview (talks about n.w.a.,stones throw,djing....)***
Longtime fans of Hip Hop embraced Fergie's "Fergalicious" not because of Stacy's rhyming abilities, but because the 2006 hit was an almost textbook recreation of Ruthless Records' first hit single, J.J. Fad's "Supersonic."

The man who concocted that track, and benefited greatly from Fergie royalties, is Arabian Prince. A pioneer of the Los Angeles that would go on to yield Ice-T, Toddy Tee and a group that Prince helped found - N.W.A. Having appeared on the first group album with Dre, Cube and Eazy alone, Arabian Prince's Electro-Funk endured in the party culture that happened against the backdrop of street politics. Releasing records since 1984, this Compton-born, Inglewood-raised legend hasn't stopped since.
Stones Throw Records and Peanut Butter Wolf recognized this. A year after recognizing New York's Percee P for a lifetime of quiet accomplishment, the L.A. label now celebrates Arabian Prince with Innovative Life: The Anthology (1984-1989), releasing this August 19th. The remastered album shows listeners old and young where it came from, and why Electro-Funk truly never left.

Just returned from Germany with longtime friend and name-sake Egyptian Lover, Arabian Prince walks HipHopDX as he readies his Gorillaz-comparable next project Funky Anime while steadily collecting checks off of ghostwriting and production. When he ends his deejay sets with the trademark Haddaway "What Is Love," you might not realize it, but the Prince hasn't lost his Raiders cap or his props.

HipHopDX: Firstly, why Stones Throw?
Arabian Prince: Oh man, it’s crazy. I’m an idiot when it comes to music, believe it or not. Like, there’s cats out there that are like music historians. Don’t get me wrong, I’m one of the baddest deejays on the planet, when it comes to vinyl, the collection and all of that, but I’m not the guy who’s really up on every little nook and cranny of Hip Hop and all the underground stuff. I’m just really into my own music. I figure the more I stay into myself, the better I have a chance of my music staying pure rather than picking up sounds from somewhere else.
So I had bumped into Peanut Butter Wolf, and man, I’d never heard that cat! I didn’t know who he was to save my life. What the hell is a Peanut Butter Wolf? He’s like, “Man, I really want to do something with you, maybe get some of your old stuff, and put out a greatest hits.” I’m like, “Who is this cat?” I did a little research and said, “Oh, that’s who that is!” So we became like best friends, and now we’re kind of inseparable in music and a lot of stuff we’re doing. So it was kind of a blessing to meet him, as somebody who really appreciates the music first. It kinda brought me back into the scene in the sense where I’m like, “You know what? I’m still in this thing.” Stones Throw has revitalized all that.

DX: This is all released material that is now re-catalogged, repackaged, correct?
AP: Right, right. And there’s two unreleased instrumentals on there as well.

DX: How do you think of the 1984-1989 era?
AP: It reminds me of the old days when there were no gangs in the clubs. [Laughs] We used to wake up, and all we was thinkin’ about was partying and deejaying and chasing women – every single day. That’s what it was, back in the ‘80s, man, in the clubs – especially in L.A. It was all about partying. You had the factions. You had your New Wave people, you had your Punk Rockers, you had your Prince people, you had your Michael Jackson fiends – everybody had their little niche. Show me some dude that thought he was hardcore gangster back in the ‘80s, and I’ll show you the dude wearin’ some spikes and a Michael Jackson jacket, you know what I’m sayin’? That’s what it was. Everything was cool back then.

DX: We all watched Colors. In 1984, when you started making regional and national noise, were the people buying your records part of the gang community?
AP: I’d say yes. The hood is the hood. I had uncles and stuff in gangs, growing up. The music was from the streets; I don’t care what kind of music it was, it originated on the streets. Electro-Funk on the west coast was a product of the streets, from hardcore to softcore people on the streets, everybody just partied to the same beat.

DX: How much of the sound of Electro-Funk was dictated by the equipment you guys were using, and how much was your own creativity?
AP: You know how it all started? When we deejayed back in the day, and even to my deejay sets to this day, I kind of read the crowd, but I’m gonna play what I’m gonna play, I don’t play the Top 40 hits. That’s how it was back in the ‘80s. Top 40 radio was everything – Parliament Funkadelic, Cameo, Bootsy [Collins], there was also Cyndi Lauper, ABC, Depeche Mode, it was also Prince, Michael Jackson, this big gumbo pot of music. When we started doing music, it reflected all of that. We were really into Kraftwerk, we were really into Prince, we were really into Funk. So if you listen to Electro-Funk, it pulls the heavy basslines of old P-Funk and Zapp & Roger stuff - Funk, it pulls the sexy side – Prince and pulls the electronic side from Kraftwerk. It was just a blend of all of that. With the equipment, yeah. The first thing we fell in love with was the 808 drum machine. After we heard that, it just fell right into place.

DX: I gotta ask. Not just with you, but in general – were drugs at play?
AP: You know what’s funny? On the west coast, no! It was a crazy thing! I’ve never done drugs. I don’t drink or smoke or nothin’ like that, which is a surprise comin’ from N.W.A. [Laughs] Back then, I drank a lot, but not no more. But even back then, dude, nobody was really on that scene on the west coast. It was just this crazy party town. People smoked weed, and maybe drank, but nah, it was the furthest thing from the ‘80s scene. You would think I would say, “Yeah, drugs were heavy.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody heavy on drugs back in the ‘80s.

DX: You mentioned N.W.A. Sources say different things. Do you, or did you consider yourself a founding member or simply an affiliate of the group?
AP: You know what’s funny, man? I am a founding member. I was there for two albums – N.W.A. & The Posse and Straight Outta Compton. The people who don’t think I was there or in the group are the people that are younger or they’re the people who get the misinformation from around. If you look at the first album, and a lot of people think that N.W.A. & The Posse is the album, that wasn’t the album; that was a bootleg that Macola [Records] put out.

DX: Really?
AP: Yeah. The actual, first ever N.W.A. album was just called N.W.A. There was no posse. There were just four or five songs, so you’d probably consider it an EP as opposed to an album. It had the same cover, with everybody in an alley. On the back, it was just two pictures of the four of us – me, Dr. Dre, Ice Cube and Eazy-E.

DX: No Yella or Ren?
AP: No. No Yella, no Ren at that point. In one we’re sitting on Eazy’s Jeep. In another, we’re standing on like a crate or something. That was it! It was very simple. Then we did the Straight Outta Compton album, and I left halfway between the release of that and when we were on tour ‘cause we weren’t getting paid, but yeah, I was definitely in the group. I was more…I won’t say behind the scenes, but more in the studio with Dre, making beats and playing music and stuff as opposed to rappin’ on the cuts. I was definitely there.

DX: Were you out there in terms of selling cassettes out of Eazy’s trunk?
AP: Oh yeah. It was all done at Macola Records. When we pressed that stuff up, our weekly or daily routine was – this was our bread and butter, this was how we made money, this was how we put gas in the car, this was how we paid our bills. Go down to Macola, pick up a box or two, hit the swap meets or hit the stores. When we toured, we’d take them around, nobody had heard of us, and we’d go into a store, “Boom. Can we give you a couple of these? If they sell, here’s a phone number, call us.” That’s what it was. We had the old school cell-phones back in the day – the briefcases with the antenna on it. [Laughs] We were definitely going to be contacted. It just blew up because of word of mouth of gettin’ it around.

DX: You got a major production credit in J.J. Fad’s “Supersonic.” That being said, what did you think of Fergie’s “Fergalicious.” Quiet as kept, I bought my girl at the time the album and saw no sample listings in there…
AP: Right. [] did the right thing and the good thing by actually saying, “Okay, yeah, I got this from ‘Supersonic,’ we’re gonna go ahead and get the publishing on this and pay royalties to me, whoever else and the girls.” So that was a good thing. Also, it actually helped to bring the sound back, because if you listen to Missy Elliott’s “Lose Control,” which is [a remake] of Cybotron’s “Clear,” or now you hear Flo Rida’s new joint [“In The Ayer”] with, which is straight Electro Funk. That sounds like they stole it out my garage when I wasn’t lookin’, back in ’87. [Laughs] It’s come full circle; it’s back! Me and Egyptian Lover were in Germany last week, and we were on the airplane talkin’ like, “Man, it’s time. We need to go and do this thing one more time before the gray hairs start showing.” [Laughs]

DX: Looking at those three records you mentioned, are you in a position or does it interest you to produce again, for artists seeking this sound?
AP: Oh yeah, definitely, man! Quiet as kept, I ghostwrite for a lot of people, so I got hits on the radio right now. I’ve done it that way over the years, because when all the animosity has gone on in Hip Hop and the violence and stuff that’s gone on, I have no beef with no one. No beef with anybody in N.W.A., I’m still cool with everybody, still kick it with everybody, so I didn’t want to get that whole guilty by association thing. So when people ask me to produce stuff for ‘em, man, unless it’s something that’s real mild, like a Stones Throw remix or something, I’m like, “Dude, whatever you want. Just put your name on it, and pay me. Give me the contract, make sure I get my royalties and my writers, and I’m cool. I don’t care what you do with it.” Yeah, most definitely. But recently, I’ve really been thinking about getting back into it 100%. I think I will be doing that this year. I just found a new girl – I really admire M.I.A. She just retired from what I hear [click to read], that’s crazy! So I just ran across some random girl, 20 years old, that does beats in her bedroom by herself, creative as I don’t know what, and has got that same sound. I’m about to produce her.

DX: If I walk into your studio right now, will I see that old equipment; do you still use it?
AP: It’s gonna hurt all the old school, analog geeks out there, but none. In my storage bin, I have 15 to 20 keyboards, eight or nine drum machines; I still have all my gear. But with technology these days dude, you can’t beat it. I travel so much that I had to go software because I’m always makin’ music in hotel room and airplanes. But what I did do, I spent a whole year with my gear, samplin’ all my analog stuff. I predominately use Reason right now and Ableton Live. You can’t tell the difference between a digital and analogy synth. I defy somebody to tell me. The last two releases I’ve done, you can’t tell. It sounds the same in the club, you’ve just got to know how to flip it.

DX: Did you remaster the anthology on Stones Throw?
AP: Oh yeah. It’s all remastered. It sounds good, man! I’m listening to some of that stuff like, “I wish it sounded this good back in the day.” But we didn’t have the technology.

DX: I’ve interviewed Rodney O & Joe Cooley too. They too, started in Funk and adapted to gangsta rap by the early ‘90s. With yourself, how do you look at the “after ‘89” and the turn your career and the art took?
AP: I did the same thing as [Rodney O & Joe Cooley] in a sense. After N.W.A., I put an album on EMI/Orpheus, the Brother Arab album, which had “She’s Got A Big Posse,” and stuff like that. It was more party music – still uptempo, more club uptempo, not Electro uptempo. Then, after that, I did another album for EMI, called The Underworld, which was more dark. My sound has always been a dark sound anyway. They were kinda scared of it. It got four or five stars, but they never released it, ‘cause they were scared. It’s still sitting on DATs. One day I’m gonna drop that out. After that, I did Where’s My Bytches? which was all sexist stuff. I had been in this relationship, man, and this girl pissed me off right in the middle of my album. I was like, “Aw man, you gonna piss me off? Here, let me dedicate this to you!” [Laughs] but it was still good music though. I’ve got through the gambit of music, but a creative style, I don’t have one; I just do whatever. My first love was always the Electro-Funk, that’s why I’ve gone back to it.


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Re: The ultimate N.W.A family interview thread *magazine scans,reviews etc.*
« Reply #185 on: September 02, 2008, 01:01:10 AM »

The Predator

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Re: The ultimate N.W.A family interview thread *magazine scans,reviews etc.*
« Reply #186 on: September 06, 2008, 08:34:04 PM »

That's a fly hat Cube rockin and i want to get a late 80's styled blue Adidas jacket just like the one in the pic'  ;D
« Last Edit: September 06, 2008, 08:35:41 PM by The Predator »


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Re: The ultimate N.W.A family interview thread *magazine scans,reviews etc.*
« Reply #187 on: September 07, 2008, 01:31:30 AM »
JJ Fad is back

Group formed in: 1988 (disbanded in 1992) / Members: M.C.J.B. (Juana Burns) Baby-D (Dania Birks) Sassy C (Michelle Franklin).
A reminder of how fleeting hip-hop glory can be, female L.A. rappers M.C.J.B. , Baby-D and Sassy C formed ‘Just Jammin’ Fresh and Def’ (J.J. Fad) in 1988.
They were a part of the Ruthless Posse headed by Eazy E and produced by Dr. Dre. The first hip-hop girl trio to go platinum.
The trio featured a youthful, heavily pop-oriented brand of rap that was non-threatening.
“Supersonic”, produced by The Arabian Prince & Dr. Dre, was 1 on the pop charts and a top 10 R&B hit, and the album went platinum, peaking at 1.
Soon after it dropped off the charts, they were a memory. Now they’re back and ready to rock the mic again, celebrating they’re 20th anniversary of “Supersonic.” They just received an ASCAP music award for co-writing on Fergies hit song “Fergalicious” and are planning to do a 2oth anniversary re-mix of “Supersonic.”
Stay tuned the Fad is Back!!
-Source: JJ Fad Official Myspace
Visit their Official Myspace:

haha..good ish dawg.

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Re: The ultimate N.W.A family interview thread *magazine scans,reviews etc.*
« Reply #188 on: September 08, 2008, 07:45:04 PM »
Here's a little bit of the recent HHC Ice Cube interview (complete it if you can with the scans Chad)

''Your 1990 solo debut, ‘AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted’, was deemed a classic. What were your goals with the follow-up?
“Doing ‘AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted’ with Chuck D changed my life. I had just left a major group to do a solo album and nobody knew if it was going to work. Nobody even knew if the world wanted me solo.
"In New York, Chuck D kinda turned me on to some his influences – Malcolm X, the Minister Louis Farrakhan, the Honourable Elijah Muhammad, Dr Khallid Muhammad – so when it was time to do ‘Death Certificate’, I had learned so much about our past in America that I was chomping at the bit. When you learn what happens to your ancestors and it’s not pretty and it’s not good, it makes you mad.”

Your engineer was a guy called Mr Stoker (The Chicken Choker). Dare we ask how he earned that handle?
[Laughs] “We was just fuckin’ with him. I believe that dude was from the UK or somewhere in that region. He was a cool motherfucker who made sure our shit was bangin’, so we was like, ‘Man, we gotta give you a nickname, you can’t just use your regular name’. So he was like, ‘Okay, alright, call me the Chicken Choker’. I was like, ‘Ah-ite, cool. That’s a good one’.”

Meanwhile, in addition to rapping on ‘Color Blind’, your protégé Kam was also on hairdressing duties...
“Yeah, well, see, when I started the album I still had my jheri curl from my NWA and ‘AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted’ days and I was like, ‘Man, with this album I gotta have a new look. I can’t just come out with this curl again,’ so he was like, ‘Let’s chop it off.’
"He already knew how to cut ’cos in the neighbourhood everybody don’t wanna go to the barber all the time, you wanna know how to cut yourself. He knew how to cut so he hooked me up.”

With lyrics like "Fuck R&B and the running man" and "It ain’t no pop, ’cos that sucks/And you can New Jack Swing on my nuts", you were clearly irritated by hip-hop’s commercial leanings...
 “I was fighting against it because when I started doing hip-hop we weren’t even accepted as music. I hold those chips on my shoulder to this day. At the time, it was becoming popular to combine hip-hop and R&B and I was protesting against that marriage. I wanted it to always be two separate things.
"I was seeing all these videos with the dancing guys and high top fades, and I felt like we were losing the voice of guys like the Poor Righteous Teachers and KRS-One to this new type of popcorn record.”

You caught a lot of flak for ‘Black Korea’. Did you feel that the mainstream media overlooked the fact that the song was penned in response to the fatal shooting of black teenager Latasha Harlins by a Korean storeowner?
“The Latasha case was kinda like the last straw. I myself, back in the day, had been into Korean stores and been treated less than how a customer should, so it was not only coming from that story but thousands and thousands of stories you heard from your people going into those stores. You get to the point where it’s an issue. You are in our neighbourhoods making a whole lot of money off of our community − you have to treat the people better. I don’t care if a few of them are robbin’ or stealin’, you have to treat everybody the same until they show you differently.
"That song may have been misunderstood by the media, but it wasn’t misunderstood by the people going through it in the community, so I was always satisfied with the response to the song because it was the truth. Then when the riots went on and you saw some of these businesses being burnt down, it wasn’t just because of one incident - it was a thousand incidents and enough was enough.....”

Chad Vader

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Re: The ultimate N.W.A family interview thread *magazine scans,reviews etc.*
« Reply #189 on: September 08, 2008, 08:09:37 PM »

^^^ I would if I could,but I don't really pick up magazines anymore. ^^^^
I still pick up Murder Dog every now then,but that's about it.
Source,XXL and HHC sucks,especially these days.
Can't you scan it? Don't you have a digital camera? Or a cell with camera? (I use a cell phone for my scans  :P ;) )


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Re: The ultimate N.W.A family interview thread *magazine scans,reviews etc.*
« Reply #190 on: September 09, 2008, 02:12:40 AM » got a MC Ren interview coming.
But you got to register to submit questions  :-\ :-[ :-X (and probably to read the interview.) What is that about?
The DubCC mods deleted AOD187´s submit questions thread here.... so I guess we got to wait till NonCentz get around to do a interview for DubCNN.


fuck that website.
they're just trying to draw the attention to their forum.

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Re: The ultimate N.W.A family interview thread *magazine scans,reviews etc.*
« Reply #191 on: September 09, 2008, 08:02:29 AM »
^^I got that sample from their site, looks like they were heavily basing the interview around on Cube's 'Dead Cert' classic.


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Re: The ultimate N.W.A family interview thread *magazine scans,reviews etc.*
« Reply #192 on: September 09, 2008, 09:36:41 AM »
This is the best topic on this board so far!

Thanks for posting all that stuff, so interesting and amazing, I'm gonna spend a lot of time of reading and watching this and that. Thanks.
It's funky enough!

Chad Vader

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Re: The ultimate N.W.A family interview thread *magazine scans,reviews etc.*
« Reply #193 on: September 10, 2008, 05:36:18 PM »
Lonzo Williams releases DVD documentary ‘Once Upon A Time In Compton’

Much has been rumored, whispered and speculated on when it comes to the true origins of the west coast rap scene and the roots of gangsta’ rap.
A hotbed of activity, spawning the likes of NWA, Eazy E, Dr. Dre, Ice Cube and most recently the Game,
the chart topping contributions from the west once dominated the hip hop scene. The west once ruled.
There is a story behind every story, however, and Lonzo Williams, long recognized as the Godfather of West Coast Rap is now, for the first time revealing his.
As the creator of the World Class Wreckin’ Crew, the group that directly preceded the birth of N.W.A.,
and gave us such eternal hits as “Turn Off The Lights,” “Cabbage Patch” and “Dr. Dre to Surgery,”
Lonzo unveils his storehouse of flyers, photos, and original VHS footage, in the Dub-Kris Media DVD release, “Once Upon A Time In Compton.”
“Once Upon A Time In Compton” proves to be the ultimate rapper’s delight, chock full of historical anecdotes’, unforgettable vintage footage and throwback rap classics as Lonzo recaps his own version of the ‘wild, wild, west.’ In true Godfather fashion, he spins an often humorous tale that holds the audience spellbound. Forget what you heard or read, he admonishes, as he takes us back, way back, to the very beginning of it all, when he first got his start as a DJ in high school. Parlaying that experience into promoting, Lonzo eventually created the group that launched the careers of hip hop’s most famous emcees,
Eazy E, Dr. Dre and Ice Cube.
Hip hip heads and trivia buffs will revel in the highlights that include:
-never before scene footage of a young Dr. Dre, draped in purple satin, when he first rocked the turntables, magically mixing “Planet Rock” with “Mr. Postman.”
Lonzo acknowledges, “I don’t know how he got on the turntables, but we all knew then, he had something special.”
-a live performance of the Wreckin’ Cru covering Morris Day and the Time’s hit single, “The Bird.”
-a young Dr. Dre on lead vocals as the group performs their club hit, “Housecalls”
Reminiscing down hip hop memory lane, Lonzo drops gems detailing what the pioneers of
hip hop had to endure and how the foundation was really laid for a genre that now sets trends around the globe.
“Hip hop is an urban musical tree that has spawned branches from grafiti to gangsta rap and is still growing,”
Lonzo asserts, “and it is not only important, but also relevant, that its beginnings be truthfully documented.
When I realized what I had in my vaults, I knew I had to share it.”
“Once Upon a Time in Compton” is Lonzo’s autobiographical account of himself as a determined
young man overcoming the odds to succeed in the predator-laden music business.
It is also the story of the personalities, the players, the haters and the beat that emerged from the threadbare streets of Compton to explode across the globe.
From his nightclub, the Eve After Dark, that became the nexus of this burgeoning hip hop scene where seminal rap figures
Dr. Dre (Andre Young), Eazy E (Eric Wright), and Ice Cube (Oshay Jackson), would congregate to putting together the World Class Wreckin’ Cru,
Lonzo weaves a story that is compelling and captivating.
He shares how Eazy E used profits from his drug sales to do his first rap tapes in the studio that Lonzo built and how he and others,
not recognized in hip hop’s history, were there when Dre, Eazy and Cube began N.W.A.,
the group that was a prairie fire introducing the hardcore, blistering sound and lyrics now known as gansta’ rap.
Lonzo shocks the house in this unflinching portrait of his life and times and continuing presence and influence in the hip hop game.
A genuine survivor and Godfather of the game, Lonzo Williams’ “Once Upon A Time in Compton”
will become a true underground classic of the west coast story that was never told.
“Once Upon A Time in Compton” can be purchased at

Should be dope  ;)


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Re: The ultimate N.W.A family interview thread *magazine scans,reviews etc.*
« Reply #194 on: September 11, 2008, 01:30:52 AM »
Ill Pics and interviews good look Yo!


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Re: The ultimate N.W.A family interview thread *magazine scans,reviews etc.*
« Reply #195 on: September 11, 2008, 01:25:57 PM »
chad, do you know what´s up with krazy d?he was about to release a dvd exposing that whole NWA-hype shit.
did he record any songs?

Chad Vader

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Re: The ultimate N.W.A family interview thread *magazine scans,reviews etc.*
« Reply #196 on: September 11, 2008, 01:32:10 PM »
^^I got that sample from their site, looks like they were heavily basing the interview around on Cube's 'Dead Cert' classic.

 OK,I tought it was you that was so kind to transcript it.  :P
Anyway,can you jack the Big Rocc interview and post it in this thread;
The Official RBX thread (Concrete Criminals) *Audio,interviews,reviews and news*
and the Ren interview (when it drops) in this thread?  ;)

This is the best topic on this board so far!

Thanks for posting all that stuff, so interesting and amazing, I'm gonna spend a lot of time of reading and watching this and that. Thanks.

Feel free to pick up on the info and what not said in the interview,reviews and articles.... and discuss them.
that's what they're here for for so you all can "learn" a little history,get shit right.. not by some hersay, ;) and for you all to get inspired to discuss.  ;)

chad, do you know what's up with krazy d?
he was about to release a dvd exposing that whole NWA-hype shit.
did he record any songs?

Didn't Styles post some info about him? and didn't he do a couple of tracks with Eazy? (I could be wrong though,that shit is like over 20 years ago....  :P :laugh:)
« Last Edit: September 23, 2008, 03:07:22 PM by Chad Vader »

Chad Vader

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Re: The ultimate N.W.A family interview thread *magazine scans,reviews etc.*
« Reply #197 on: September 23, 2008, 02:41:53 PM »
Time Bomb Interview!
Read the full interview here:
Discuss here;

-Q: How did you end up getting on the  “Chronic 2001” album? Was it Knoc-turn’al that introduced you to Dre?
Nah, it was over there that I met Knoc-turn’al.

-Q: Oh, OK.
I was fucking with a cat by the name of Mark Gordon. I did a three song demo. This was when I first got in the game. I was just fucking around in the studio and did a three song demo and that three song demo went all the way to New York to Puffy (Diddy) and shit. Puffy sent for me and shit and I went out there to New York fucking with them. I then flew to Atlanta and I was fucking with every body in the game. This was around 1999. I was still bad as fuck, going to jail every other day.

 I end up meeting (Dr.) Dre in a studio and he bought a song off me from my three song demo. He paid me $4500 for it to go on the Chronic 2001; it didn’t make the cut, but he paid me for it. I was just freestyling in my head and shit. Dre was like “ey, what’s that shit you got going on there?” Dre put on the beat to “Some L.A. Niggaz” and I put my freestyle over it when I walked in. That’s where that pause came in every time the beat stop; every body followed me with that shit and made the hook. The one song I did for the Chronic 2001 made the album. Dre had like eighty tracks to pick from. I am very grateful it made the album.

-Q: Was it that freestyle that made him want you on the album?
Nah, he already wanted me on the album. Dre tried to sign me but I was already signed to Puff’s road manager with Finish Line. I was already signed there so I couldn’t sign to Dre; he still wanted me to do some shit with him.

-Q: Take us back to those recording sessions for “Chronic 2001.” Do you have any particular memories that stand out in your mind?
We were all meeting for the first time; me, Xzibit, King Tee, Hittman and so on. It was basically competition. Everybody was just sitting around waiting for their turn to rap over one of Dre’s hot beats. Any time he put any beat on; we put the pens to the pad. He’d put on a beat for five minutes, we all had a song written for it; he’d take that beat off and put on another, we’d do the same thing for that next beat. We hung around and wasn’t really tripping. We all ended up hopping on some hot shit. We were battling each other at first on “L.A. Niggaz” and then decided to make a song for it.

-Q: A lot of people describe those recording sessions as one big family.
Dre never made us feel like our shit wasn’t hot. He always complimented your shit. Even if something was wrong, he never made you nervous in the studio, every thing was always perfectly comfortable; I’m saying us as MC’s would battle each other when we first met, but we was giving each other love over the battle. We all knew we were hot MC’s. It was the best time I ever had recording; it was the most comfortable I’ve ever felt.

-Q: Have you had any recent contact with Dr. Dre or Knoc-turn’al?
Not since I’ve been out of jail. I’ve been hearing that some cats are looking for me. I’m not doing all that extra shit like going out of town;
I have to spend time with my kids. If I do see them though, it’s all love, no love lost; they the homies right there.
« Last Edit: September 23, 2008, 03:04:28 PM by Chad Vader »

Chad Vader

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Re: The ultimate N.W.A family interview thread *magazine scans,reviews etc.*
« Reply #198 on: September 25, 2008, 02:46:16 AM »
You can listen a Recent MC REN Interview by Real Richard Radio Click on that link to listen @ his myspace.

Chad Vader

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Re: The ultimate N.W.A family interview thread *magazine scans,reviews etc.*
« Reply #199 on: September 30, 2008, 03:18:32 PM »
Hip Hop Connection August 2008

« Last Edit: September 30, 2008, 03:20:52 PM by Chad Vader »