It's August 25, 2025, 01:24:38 PM
Thus far the production reminds me of the last A Tribe Called Quest album. Not a bad thing
LL COOL J ‘had no idea’ he’d invent one of the most-used meme phrases of all timeIt’s very rare you’ll ever catch LL COOL J not smiling — and there’s a good reason for that. The legendary New York rapper, who began his career 40 years ago at the tender age of 16, lives a blessed life courtesy of his pioneering contributions to hip hop as the culture’s first solo superstar.Not only has he carved out one hell of a career in music, film and TV, for which he’s earned numerous platinum and multi-platinum-selling records, a tonne of awards and accolades, and a string of impressive acting credits, he’s also a business mogul, philanthropist, and a loving husband and proud father of four.And he’s now got something else to smile about… his first new album in over 11 years.Deciding it was time to dust off the mic after what has been his longest break between albums — his last full-length release was 2013’s Authentic — LL (real name James Todd Smith) tells us the reason for his return is because he still feels he has a lot to offer today’s music fan and doesn’t ever want to be branded a ‘part-time artist.’‘You can’t be an artist in your spare time,’ he says, speaking over Zoom from New York, before going on to explain that he never actually stopped making music. “Musically, the pilot light was always on. I’d always be going in the studio and touching things here and there.’ It wasn’t until CBS action crime drama series NCIS: Los Angeles — in which LL COOL J stars as Special Agent Sam Hanna — started to wind down ahead of its May 2023 season 14 finale, that he was able to get back in the studio and focus on recording.‘I had no idea it was gonna become a worldwide phrase and statement,’ he said of coining the term GOAT ‘I just got into a place where the TV show was coming to an end and I was becoming more and more serious about wanting to do new music. Then at a certain point, I realised that there was a new challenge there, and that was: can an artist that’s been out for many, many years make a record that has some serious impact in a new era? That became a fun idea for me.’ This resulted in the creation of new album The FORCE (an acronym for Frequencies of Real Creative Energy). Produced entirely by Q-Tip of A Tribe Called Quest, the 14-track project arrives via Def Jam Recordings, the legendary hip hop label where the 56-year-old started his career back in 1984.Leaving the label after the release of his 12th studio album, 2008’s Exit 13, citing creative differences with the execs who ran Def Jam at the time, LL says his decision to re-sign all these years later is down to a different energy he feels is now present at the label — which today is home to the likes of Rihanna, Justin Bieber, Big Sean, Coco Jones, Jhené Aiko and many others.‘I wanted [the album] to be great, and so I called up [CEO of Universal Music Group] Lucian [Grainge]. I was like, “Yo man, I want to do a record.” And he was like, “Well, come on. Let’s figure it out.” So we did a deal with Def Jam.‘The energy around the label felt different to me. I felt like time and care would be taken to make sure that the record was treated properly. And I think I was right. Just the fact that we’re on the phone [doing this interview]. Something as simple as this, these are things that need to happen. It just felt right to me.’ Featured guests on the album include Snoop Dogg, Nas, Busta Rhymes and Fat Joe. But one collaboration that sticks out — and one that LL COOL J fans have been waiting years for — comes on the track Murdergram Deux, where the Mama Said Knock You out hitmaker trades bars with Eminem.‘Me and Em were in the studio together,’ LL says of the track, the vocals for which were recorded at Dr. Dre’s studio in California. ‘I would write my rhyme, then I’d leave the studio. Then he would write his rhyme, I would record my vocal, then he would write and record his and leave. We went back and forth and then sat in the studio together and did that last piece together.’ In rap, it’s not uncommon for collaborating MCs to rewrite their bars after hearing what their counterpart has laid down. Kanye West famously rewrote his verse on Drake’s 2009 blockbuster anthem Forever after hearing Eminem’s verse, admitting: ‘I went back and rewrote my s**t for two days. I cancelled appointments to rewrite [that]. I f****n ’care!”Given Eminem’s reputation as one of hip hop’s best lyricists, did LL have to rewrite any of his bars on the rapid-fire cut?‘Nah, I didn’t have to rewrite nothing,’ he says, composing himself after laughing hysterically for almost 30 seconds straight, making it very clear just how comical the suggestion he would ever rewrite his lyrics is.‘Artists that are not really used to rapping with great rappers, they get into a lot of hang ups about rhyming with guys that can rhyme,’ he explains. ‘But if you notice, I have Nas on the album. I have Em on the album. I’m getting the best guys. So for me, that’s just par for the course. I’m rhyming with a guy who can really rap good. Okay, great. That was the whole point of when I got into hip hop. The whole point was when you put a group together, find the guys that can rap the best.’ When it comes to rap G.O.A.T.s, there’s no question that Eminem and LL COOL J are cemented names on the list. As far as the ‘Greatest of All Time’ acronym itself, which is regularly used to describe transcendent athletes, entertainers and other talented entities, you might be surprised to learn that it was actually LL who coined the term. ‘There’s no question I came up with that!’ Explaining that the inspiration for the G.O.A.T. term and acronym came from ‘smashing together’ Muhammad Ali’s famous ‘I am the greatest’ quote and the nickname given to street basketball legend Earl ‘the Goat’ Manigault, LL used the moniker for the title of his eighth studio album, G.O.A.T. featuring James T. Smith: The Greatest of All Time — which coincidentally or not is his only album to top the US Billboard 200 album chart.‘It’s pretty wild that it turned out how it did,’ he says, reflecting on how the inescapable term became a cultural phenomenon and is now a permanent fixture in the global vocabulary. ‘I had no idea it was gonna become a worldwide phrase and statement.’ While he wishes he had trademarked the phrase, instead of dwelling on a missed opportunity, LL wants to be more positive and optimistic about his creation, using it as inspiration for his potential future endeavours.‘To be able to touch the world through my art like that is pretty dope. What it says to me is that I can do more creatively. It says to me, if I’m capable of creating terminology for the entire globe, I can do some big things.’When it comes to his acting resumé, the list of film and TV projects LL COOL J has been involved in is solid. With over 35 acting credits to his name, his most memorable roles are probably those in the aforementioned NCIS: Los Angeles, and then movies such as Any Given Sunday, S.W.A.T., Charlie’s Angels, In Too Deep, Mindhunters and Deep Blue Sea.The latter, now a cult classic among shark and horror fans, celebrated its 25th anniversary last month. Remembering the impact it had on his career — and how it broke the problematic movie trope that Black characters always die first in horror films, or just never make it to the end — LL takes a moment to give the Renny Harlin-directed film its flowers.‘I loved doing Deep Blue Sea. I have a lot of important movies that were cool for my life, and that was definitely one of them. Even the fact that I survived in the movie, I think that’s hysterical — first Black dude to survive.’ Despite his love for film and TV, though, LL admits that making music is where his real passion is. ‘I just love the music,’ he explains. ‘I don’t limit myself. I do enjoy doing these films and television shows, but I just love music more.’Having flirted with retirement a few times throughout his career, does this candid and seemingly unconditional love for music mean there will be more to come after The FORCE — or will this be his final album?‘I definitely would like to record more,’ he says with a smirk, before adding one caveat. ‘As long as I’m inspired, I will always want to record and release more music.’ LL COOL J’s The FORCE is out now via Def Jam Recordings.
Amazing album LL is back! Some of the production is a little busy sometimes but when I listen on headphones it's much better (Did Q-Tip make these beats on headphones? lol)
Album Review: LL Cool J, The ForceSoul In StereoEdward BowserThe Force (released September 6, 2024)LL Cool J owes us nothing.Without a doubt, James Todd Smith is one of hip-hop’s greatest architects. As a teenager, he was one of hip-hop’s most recognizable voices (his debut, in my opinion, is one of rap’s first five-star projects). He became the master of the so call “girl tracks,” able to shift from hardened lyricist to smooth loverboy with the flip of the switch, becoming the blueprint for scores of hardcore rappers who temporarily softened their edges for radio play. He survived a half-dozen battles and beefs that would have destroyed most rappers’ careers while seamlessly transitioning to both the small and big screen, taking hip-hop to Hollywood. I mean, this is the guy who is credited with bringing the GOAT term from the sports world to rap lexicon.LL = living legend. A lot of y’all wouldn’t be reading this post right now if not for the foundation that LL laid.But when I heard way back in the late 2010s that LL was planning a new album – his first after bowing out of the game after 2013’s Authentic, my first question was … why?In my eyes, his legacy was already secured. Trying to return to a game to appeal to a younger fanbase that only knows him as an award show host with a lip-licking addiction seemed like a losing battle. The years of false starts and promises of an album that never materialized didn’t give me a lot of confidence.But as news of The Force, LL’s 14 LP, began to solidify, I saw the vision. He enlisted fellow hip-hop architect Q-Tip to handle production. He taught his peers how to properly promote an upcoming project by being ever-present on blogs and interviews. And the singles he released? LL clearly wasn’t pandering to modern audiences – no autotune, no afrobeats, no trendy features from out-of-place artists.This was unfiltered hip-hop.That’s when I got it. He’s not here to win us over again – he spent four decades doing that. He’s back for the love of the game.The Force isn’t a comeback album, it’s more of an affirmation album. Just like when we were infected by the magic of Nas’ king’s disease these past few years, LL seems more content exercising his lyrical muscles than harping about his legacy. Nas was having fun, and you can tell LL is doing the same.And he’s doing it at the highest level.“The Spirit of Cyrus” is the most jarring album opener of the year – in a good way. Right out of the gate, LL, with the help of Snoop Dogg, portrays a Black vigilante, whose guns are pointed directly at the corrupt cops that target Black communities. LL is brazen and ferocious: “blinded by my Black skin, now your head is see-through.” It’s a long way from “Accidental Racist.” That take-no-prisoners approach is felt throughout the project.The album’s title track showcases an aggression I haven’t heard from Uncle L since 2000’s “Ill Bomb.” Tracks like “Passion” and “Runnit Back” are outright bar fests, especially the latter, where he coyly runs through some past accomplishments before resuming his mission to decimate the competition. Speaking of past glory, “Post Modern,” one of the best offerings, sees LL recapturing the bombastic energy of his “I’m Bad” heyday as he bellows over Q-Tip’s off-kilter production. It shouldn’t work, but it does wonderfully.The Force isn’t just a 45-minute sprint. LL takes time to slow down for more poignant moments. “Black Code Suite” is a sweet celebration of Blackness: “mama when she’s dancing, uncle when he’s trippin/the spirit of Stevie Wonder when ‘Superstition’ was written.” Also, it wouldn’t be an LL album without an oversexed track on the setlist. Saweetie is the latest in a long line of female co-stars LL does it well with on “Proclivities.” Sure, we’ve heard LL share his sex fantasies for decades, but this type of track is a rarity in today’s landscape. Countless artists talk about sex, very few use this level of storytelling to get their point across. The two wind up sharing surprising chemistry.On that note, one of the few complaints I have with The Force is that come of the collaborations don’t work as well as they should. “Saturday Night Special” seemed like magic in the making – Tip’s production is great and LL approached the track with a great concept. But Fat Joe and Rick Ross just do their usual Fat Joe and Rick Ross thing. Rawse abandons the track’s “advice from the OGs” theme entirely to ramble about yachts and Maybachs or whatever (props to L for trying to tie things back together immediately after). Also, I was extremely excited to hear that Nas would appear on “Praise Him,” highlighting two legends experiencing career renaissances together. But Esco’s contribution felt rushed and ends up forgettable.Never fear, because Busta Rhymes more than made up for those missteps with “Huey in the Chair,” which plays out like a pair of rap titans oozing with blaxploitation energy. And while almost every Eminem verse is met with divisive banter these days, “Murdergram Deux” is a must-hear. I enjoyed Em’s contribution but LL’s breathless delivery will leave you speechless. I’ve been listening to this guy for almost 40 years, I can’t think of another time where his delivery was so fast and so intense.LL has had his critics over the years – including me, and I consider myself a huge fan. He’s a huge part of my early rap fandom But The Force leaves no room for doubt. It may sound cliche but at 56 years old, LL is rapping better than ever. On “Basquiat Energy,” when he effortlessly spit: “you know we litty in the city, back on fire like we hit ’em with the stimmy, we be getting to the bag, hear me?” I had to pull the lil’ scroll button back at least three times to catch every syllable.The breath control. The delivery. The intensity. He’s better than he’s ever been. You’d be crazy to doubt him.Don’t call it a comeback, call it confirmation. The GOATs are immortal.Best tracks: “Post Modern,” “Huey in the Chair,” “The Force”4 stars out of 5
LL Cool J Proves Traditional Hip-Hop Can Be a Pretty Good Thing on ‘FORCE’With Q-Tip modernizing his sound, the grandpa and NCIS: Los Angeles star isn't looking baxkwards as he delivers boastful brags, lover-man vibes, and old-school rap storytellingSeptember 6, 2024https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-album-reviews/ll-cool-j-force-review-1235096890/Chris Parsons*Scant months after Q-Tip publicly debated the dubiousness of an “adult-contemporary hip-hop” category on social media comes a completely Tip-produced new album by his Queens neighbor LL Cool J—the 56-year-old rapper-actor’s 14th since his 1984 debut as a teenager. In a year when both Rakim and Masta Ace released new projects, when Common teamed with producer Pete Rock for a stellar throwback album of Nineties-spirited hip-hop, LL’s new effort joins a trend. “Call it traditional hip-hop,” Q-Tip tweeted.The FORCE doesn’t nod to modern drill or trap, nor are there vintage boom-bap beats to be heard. Still lyrically competitive after 39 years of rhyming, Q-Tip modernizes LL’s sound for those who’d actually want to stream a new LL Cool J album and gives them what they came for: boastful brags (“Murdergram Deux” with Eminem), lover-man vibes (“Proclivities”) and some old-school rap storytelling (“Spirit of Cyrus”). Pairing the still musclebound MC responsible for sexy classics like “Doin’ It” with the producer of A Tribe Called Quest come-ons like “Electric Relaxation” seems almost too on the nose. And yes, in 2024, LL is a long-married grandpa. But we hardly even need to suspend our disbelief as he twists seductive rhymes around a synth line recalling Gary Numan on “Proclivities,” flirting with Saweetie about tonsil hockey and making panties drop. The FORCE is hardly LL’s grown-up 4:44 album. He’s the same Farmers Boulevard superhero he’s always been and the album is better for it.But LL does look back in the rearview. His first single launched Def Jam as a hip-hop label in ’84 — he name drops the label’s co-founders Rick Rubin (on “Basquiat Energy”) and Russell Simmons (on “Runnit Back”). Like Captain America revived from suspended animation, LL returns from 1994 to a contemporary world he never made on “30 Decembers” (“this world ain’t like I remember,” he laments). When Nas guests on the spiritualist “Praise Him,” the Queensbridge rapper brings up the golden-age hip-hop fashion of sheepskin coats and Cazal eyeglasses.The titular “FORCE” stands for “frequencies of real creative energy” and the NCIS: Los Angeles star arguably gets his most creative on “Black Code Suite.” He embodies a litany of African-American bona fides (“I’m the sound of Miles Davis, it’s impossible to bury me/The slow pimp walk, it’s impossible to hurry me”), including the spice in hot sauce and tastebuds savoring sunflower seeds, ending with the repetitive declaration “I’m Black.” Title references to Huey P. Newton, Jean-Michel Basquiat and Cyrus of The Warriors fit the program. If LL has done nothing but craft his blackest album possible within the confines of pop-leaning hip-hop for oldsters, his mission is well accomplished.
Exclusive Digital Cover: 40 Years Of LL Cool J & Def Jam Recordsby George Garnerhttps://www.musicweek.com/labels/read/exclusive-digital-cover-40-years-of-ll-cool-j-def-jam-records/090395Welcome to a milestone moment. This month, LL Cool J releases his first album in 11 years. Not only is it produced entirely by A Tribe Called Quest genius Q-Tip, it also boasts appearances from superstars like Eminem, Nas, Busta Rhymes and Snoop Dogg, and marks the living legend’s return to the label where it all began: Def Jam. As both commemorate their shared 40th anniversary, here the iconic MC and Def Jam chairman/CEO Tunji Balogun guide us through the celebrations… When it came to making his first album in 11 years, LL Cool J knew exactly what he required. The man born James Todd Smith practically starts choking on his own excitement as he begins hurling descriptors at Music Week. Or perhaps, more accurately, flavours. “Man, I wanted that hot sauce, pickle juice,” he buzzes as his canary yellow jumper-sporting torso starts rocking in his chair. “Yo! Just the crispy skin chicken!”Here his sonic recipe comes to an abrupt stop as he catches his breath. His face, framed by a crisp white NYC cap, breaks out into a massive grin. “I just wanted the most specific, culturally relevant, Black, crazy album…” he carries on, enunciating every word with maximum vigour.That vision has resulted in The FORCE, a milestone record for the hip-hop icon. It’s his best since 2000’s G.O.A.T. (why, yes, he was the person to coin that term). It’s produced entirely – and immaculately – by A Tribe Called Quest legend Q-Tip. It boasts a star-studded guestlist that sees him trading bars on songs with Eminem, Nas, Snoop Dogg, Busta Rhymes, Rick Ross, Fat Joe and Saweetie among others. But that’s not all. The FORCE also marks the 40th anniversary of the time a teenage LL Cool J provided Def Jam with its very first official release via his 1984 debut single I Need A Beat. A full-circle moment, The FORCE sees the star signed back on Def Jam, having previously parted ways in 2008. Don’t call it a comeback, call it a celebration. Getting to this point wasn’t easy. Having long pursued a successful acting career (“I thought I was going to do the [NCIS] show for two years, it ended up being 14,” he laughs) LL was long overdue a return to the studio. Dr Dre had already armed him with over 30 “lush, amazing beats”. The problem, he says, candidly, was that his own verses were “lame”. He knew it. Dr Dre knew it. And someone else knew it, too. “So, I have this dream of Phife Dawg from A Tribe Called Quest,” says LL of the late MC who tragically passed away in 2016. “Phife says to me – and I’m getting chills as I say this – ‘That new album you're doing with Dre is going to be dope.’”The hesitant ‘Yeah?’ with which LL replied was met with an expression that is still burned into his mind.“The way he looked at me…” says LL, imitating Phife’s stare. “That Cheshire cat look, that doubtful nod he gave me, it resonated. And then he faded away.”When LL woke up, he knew what he needed to do. With Dre’s blessing – and the knowledge that he could return to those beats when his pen-game was ready – he needed to start over. He had to find a way to rap again in a manner that could – and so often did – take on any and all challengers throughout his career. Lest we forget, this is the same person who once cunningly twisted Canibus’ own line of attack against him to demoralising effect during their epic beef: ‘Ask Canibus, he ain’t understanding this, ’cause 99 per cent of his fans don’t exist.’ A day and a half after Phife visited him, LL picked up the phone and called Q-Tip. “What’s up, bro?” the A Tribe Called Quest talisman asked, answering on the first ring.LL explained his dream and said he promptly required Q-Tip’s expert beat-making services to get his album back on track.“Say less,” Q-Tip replied. “When you gonna be in New York?”Going into The FORCE, LL Cool J was, he says, an artist in search of his “Santana moment” – to do what the guitarist had done with his multiple Grammy-winning, career-reinvigorating 1999 outing Supernatural. That’s a lot of pressure, but so too is living up to his own musical legacy. Ever since selling 100,000 copies of his debut single I Need A Beat as a teenager, LL become the first rapper to rack up 10 consecutive platinum-plus albums and to earn a Kennedy Centre Honour, all while also being inducted into the Hollywood Walk Of Fame, Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame, winning Grammys and more. Card-carrying LL super-fan Eminem summed it up best in an episode of VH1’s Behind The Music: “He was the first rock star of rap.” That said rock star was determined to make The FORCE a statement isn’t a surprise. LL’s last album, 2013’s Authentic, didn’t go how he wanted it to. “I did this experimental record, it was okay,” he shrugs today. “It didn’t feel great. I did it on a small little label, and it just felt out of character.” Overriding any worries of falling short of his past was LL’s frustration of hearing great rappers talk about being overlooked by new generations. He didn’t want his achievements to reside solely in yesteryear.“I really wanted to show the world the artistry of LL Cool J,” he explains. “It’s been a long time since I had a real heavy impact on music, and I wanted to do it in a way that was like, ‘Wow, it’s really possible for guys in hip-hop to keep going!’ It’s different to just being beloved, super-famous or having an amazing catalogue and then putting out C-plus new material. All of that is pretty much par for the course. But to creatively have something as impactful as some of your best work? That’s a different challenge. That, to me, is the fun: going for the 10th championship or that fourth gold medal.”Sitting in his LA office, with a classic boom box behind him, current Def Jam chairman and CEO Tunji Balogun is unequivocal on how LL fared in this endeavour.“He’s rapping his ass off on this album,” he beams. “It’s actually quite uncanny. LL has the same passion, hunger and energy that he had when he got signed at 15 and became that first iconic hip-hop star. That he’s been able to sustain a 40-year career and still be sharp, innovative and imaginative? It’s very, very, very rare.”It’s not necessarily a prerequisite for a CEO to be enamoured with a label’s glorious past in order to succeed at driving it into the future. But in Balogun – who took over the reins in January 2022 – Def Jam have a leader who, in his own words, “grew up on the label”. Ask him to cite the records that personally define its illustrious 40-year history for him, and what starts with references to Jay-Z, DMX, Method Man & Redman, Slick Rick, Beastie Boys, Public Enemy, Foxy Brown and Kanye West soon spirals into a fascinating, encyclopaedic trip down memory lane. Such is his passion, you half expect him to start reciting album catalogue numbers. “The LL record we all listened to when I was in high school was [1995’s] Mr. Smith, and those are still some of my favourite songs,” he says. “It’s crazy because now I talk to this guy on the phone every couple of days. It’s very surreal!”Right now, Balogun's focus is firmly on bringing his sharp A&R instincts to bear on the label.“We’re really doing the work to break a new generation of artists that can carry Def Jam’s legacy,” he explains, citing how proud he is of the organic growth of signings such as Muni Long, Coco Jones and Friday.So where, you might reasonably ask, does the return of a veteran like LL fit into that masterplan? Balogun’s answer speaks volumes. When you go into Columbia you’re going to see a Bob Dylan picture, he says. He wants Def Jam to respect all the pioneers that made the label what it is. To be proud of everything from “the magic of Rick Rubin” to legendary executives like Lyor Cohen and Kevin Liles. “The execs have felt larger than life and a part of the story as well,” he salutes. “But I won’t claim that I’m one of those [laughs].”LL being back on Def Jam carries real cultural weight.“The saying around here is that LL is the ‘D’ in Def Jam,” Balogun says. “He sparked the success. He’s the reason why other iconic original artists like the Beastie Boys and Public Enemy felt comfortable signing. He was the example, not just for Def Jam, but the whole genre. Not to disrespect anyone who came before him, but he was the first one who became a fully-fledged superstar. LL being back on Def Jam reconnects the dots. It’s important to have a really wide spectrum of music and show that hip-hop artists can age gracefully and put out albums in their 40s, 50s and or 60s that are compelling, intelligent and pushing things forward. The FORCE defies age and time – he sounds as fresh as he did in the ’80s and ’90s.”LL Cool J himself has been working hard at this endeavour on behalf of others with his Rock The Bells enterprise. Its goal? To ensure that the legends that paved the way for hip-hop are granted the same reverence, respect and opportunities that rock affords to, say, the Rolling Stones. In 2023, RTB and Live Nation Urban put that into practice with a huge arena tour, including Slick Rick, Rakim, Run-DMC, Queen Latifah, De La Soul, Redman, Salt-N-Pepa and more. This feat of survival and legacy maintenance applies to Def Jam, too. It inspired countless hip-hop labels and outlived them – even ones that at, different times, crept ahead of them in the market shares during the West Coast’s ascension in the ’90s. “There’s a number of reasons for that,” Balogun offers. “Number one, there’s just so many iconic albums, songs and moments from the ’80s until now. Second, and this is really important, it built a universe beyond music with Def Poetry Jam, Def Comedy Jam and video games like Def Jam Vendetta. When I talk to people under the age of 25 and they hear ‘Def Jam’, they immediately think about the video game. It became more than a label, it became a lifestyle brand – especially if you include the clothing collabs. There are places that you can go with this brand that I don’t think any other major label can. It’s always been at the cutting edge of where Black music is, and then you see it progress even further to international pop stars like Justin Bieber, Alessia Cara and Rihanna. If you think about it, three artists who went on to become billionaires came out of this label. There’s a 40-year consistency of artists.”With that said, and without further ado, we sit down with the living hip-hop legend that kickstarted that remarkable 40-year legacy. Here, LL Cool J reflects further on everything from his early days, to writing with Eminem and the key to surviving the music business…As The FORCE marks 40 years of LL Cool J and Def Jam, can you paint a picture of who you were in 1984 at the time you were making I Need A Beat?“Being in the studio, with my Kangol on, a little sweat suit, I was just so excited. The way I viewed that opportunity, it might as well have been like us being present for the Big Bang. It was the opportunity of a lifetime: like winning the World Cup, the Super Bowl, graduating from college, hitting the lotto with a clean bill of health and meeting the girl of your dreams all in the same day. It was amazing.”Everyone talks about 1987’s I Need Love as the first hip-hop ballad, and how its influence can be traced all the way through to artists like Drake in the present day. But more than just an R&B crossover song, has your decisive role in helping hip-hop centre an emotional inner life and shed some of its machismo on that track been overlooked? “I think what you’re saying makes a lot of sense. That sensitivity and that vulnerability is something that people have noticed, but I don’t know that they’ve coined it the way you honed in on. That vulnerability was definitely something that was confusing to the audience back then. But that requires the most courage, right? You have to be willing to do stuff that no-one has done, and to understand that there are consequences associated with that creatively. That has been par for the course for me. Even something as simple as making a song that sounds almost like I can’t really rap just because that’s what’s best for the song. That’s why Headsprung, with me saying all of those silly lines, ended up lasting. That was the point: it was dumb, but that made it fun. I loved it. So, going back to your point, that vulnerability just felt natural to me. I didn’t care about who thought what. I looked at it like, ‘This is my music, I can do anything.’”You don’t get to the stage you’re at in your career without going through some tough moments – you once said the divisive reaction to your 1989 Walking With A Panther album “kept you honest” ever since. How have you learned to deal with setbacks? “What you learn is that it’s like sports: just because you don’t win the World Cup, Super Bowl or World Series every year, that doesn’t mean you’re not a champion. Maybe the stars just didn’t line up, maybe you had a bad day, maybe you rested on your laurels a bit creatively. It’s okay. It happens. Whatever the case may be, you realise that you still have it in you; you know the level you can go to. In other words, LeBron James, Steph Curry and KD don’t have to win the championship every year for us to know they’re great ball players. And I don’t have to have the biggest album or biggest tour every year for me to know that LL Cool J is a force to be reckoned with. I’m a world-class hip-hop artist, whether I get the Grammy that year or not.”In terms of your legacy, there are still a lot of people who don’t know that the term GOAT can be traced back to your 2000 album. Given how that term has transcended music, do you see that as a major part of your legacy now? “You know what it reminds me of? It’s A Wonderful Life. I say this selfishly, but it’s true. Sometimes for me it doesn’t matter if people totally give me credit [at the time], because I know that if I subtracted myself from hip-hop, I know how that would change things.”Ah, the difference one life can make…“Dude. People don’t even realise. Something as simple as the song My Adidas by Run-DMC, that doesn’t happen if I don’t make My Radio. I could take you through unbelievable amounts of things that would change. So to me, it’s like, ‘Wow, so maybe people don’t always point a finger [of recognition], you’re still happy.’ I feel fulfilled, recognised, appreciated, respected and loved.”When it came to A&Ring The FORCE and corralling superstars like Eminem, Nas, Snoop Dogg and Busta Rhymes, is that just a case of you picking up the phone and saying, ‘LL needs you’?“It is exactly that. It’s amazing because they all got on it, but the flipside is that you also want to do right by the guests. I want them to be a part of something great. They were called because what they do as a musician really worked with what we were doing, they weren’t called purely because of their fame. Yes, they’re some of the biggest hip-hop stars ever, but sonically, it made sense. I didn’t call Eminem to do Proclivities, I called him for Murdergram because, sonically, it sounded right.” Murdergram Deux is a sequel to a classic from Momma Said Knock You Out, but was it you or Eminem who decided it was time for a follow-up? “That was me, but we were in Dr Dre’s studio together. Em is the best, man. He’s so dope, so cool – such a good guy. He came through for me big time. We made a dope song together that’s worth all of the social equity that he’s put out about [our friendship in interviews over the years].” A lot of his collaborators no doubt have Nas’ classic line ‘Eminem murdered you on your own shit’ echoing in their minds. Was that a concern going into the recording?“No. It’s like playing on an Olympic basketball team: you just bring your A-Game, and get to work. It really is that simple. The question just becomes, how are you playing that day? And are you ready [laughs]?” You’ve said your fans can be divided into two camps: the ‘Don’t call it a comeback!’ hardcore crowd, and the ‘Oh, he raps!?’ audience who only know you from acting. How do you make sure the latter crowd discovers your musical legacy? “At the end of the day, if they press play and like it, they’ll Google for more. I’m not gonna push away from a younger audience, but I’m also not consciously trying to chase them and be the oldest dude in the club [laughs]. With the Proclivities video, I didn’t go in trying to pretend I was 20 with my clothing. If a 22-year-old is into it? Cool! If they’re not? Oh well! I’m not looking to be that guy. But I love working with young artists, with Saweetie we did a song together and it makes sense.”As your acting career grew, was there ever a point where you thought you might be done with music?“No, not at all. I believe there’s always something new to talk about. The first award I ever got for acting was a Blockbuster Future Star award when I was deep into my hip-hop career. I remember being sad when I got it because I felt like it was gonna somehow stop me from doing music. People are born to do certain things; I was born to do hip-hop. You can’t start Def Jam and 40 years later still be doing it at this level and not be born for it. It just doesn’t work like that. I can't fool people for 40 years.”In your film career, you once killed a mako shark using an exploding oven in Deep Blue Sea, but what’s the biggest obstacle you’ve personally had to overcome in your music career?“If you want me to be totally, brutally honest with you, bro, the toughest thing has been feeling like my music, while obviously very successful, wasn’t always given the shot that it could have been. That’s been tough sometimes. How was it recognised by the media? By the world? I’ve done extremely well and I’m very thankful, don’t get it wrong. But sometimes there were points in my career where it felt like I was doing it in spite of [things], as opposed to having a free lane. You would want the channel or station to automatically play your song, or invite you. But sometimes it was kind of like, ‘Oh, yeah, [LL] is in this category.’ I just feel like I could have been considered for broader categories.”When you started Rock The Bells you said, ‘The way rock treats Bono, I want people to treat Run-DMC.’ Why did you feel you needed to take supporting legendary acts into your own hands?“I’m out of my fucking mind, bro. I just believe in the higher power, love and good of lifting up hip-hop culture and seeing artists get treated the right way. They’ve got to have an advocate; somebody has to step up. It’s foolish to a certain extent, because I would probably do a little better just focusing on me only, but I want to see other artists get treated the right way, bro. I want to see Run-DMC, Big Daddy Kane and Rakim treated right. To see these artists elevated and go on worldwide tours. Not just two guys, not three guys, not whoever’s popular on the internet this month, but everybody. I just want to see the culture thrive because I love hip-hop that much. As a fan, I want to see my heroes continue to be my heroes. Imagine it as a Marvel comic and you love the Avengers, but then you’re seeing all of them lose their powers. You’d be miserable. I want all of them to be doing well. And is it the easiest path? No. Is it even the most fun path? Not always. But does it make me feel good as a human being, in my spirit, in the deepest, deepest part of my core? Yes, it does.”So what help can the industry give you in order to achieve that goal of celebrating artists who paved the way for hip-hop music?“If people embrace Rock The Bells and lift it up, the rest will take care of itself. We’ll be able to raise the money, do the deals, and all of that will fall into place. But it’s really about people showing up. I loved seeing a giant crowd for Travis Scott on the internet, but I also want to see that for these classic artists because I know those fans exist. The same way Tina Turner, may she rest in peace, was able to command huge crowds as she matured, the same way Bono does, I want to see hip-hop artists play at that level. I want to come to London and play whatever the biggest venue is with my friends. It’s obvious that I know how to update my sound and make sure my thinking is contemporary. But come on, man. What’s the point of me improving what’s possible for LL if I’m not going to bring my friends along and let them benefit?” Finally, then, in 1988 you famously told the world that, ‘LL Cool J is hard as hell.’ What does LL Cool J have to say about himself in 2024 as you release The FORCE?“Wow. Well… Now? He’s cool as hell!”LL Cool J’s The FORCE is out now via Def Jam
LL Cool J: ‘I was hanging out with some of the most dangerous characters in New York’The hip-hop star’s acting career led to a 11-year musical hiatus, but despite one major false start, he’s back with a new album. He talks to Stevie Chick about vulnerability, longevity and the call he got telling him to stay off the streets4 hours agoThe walls of LL Cool J’s office in his New York home groan under the weight of framed gold and platinum discs. But these trophies aren’t mere self-celebratory décor – they serve a serious, inspirational purpose for the rapper, actor and entrepreneur. “When I look at these discs,” he murmurs, humble as rap’s finest braggart can be, “they remind me that everything is still possible, that I can do more. They’re symbols of ideas and dreams I had that came true. And they remind me I can do it again – I can make a huge, impactful record again.”It’s a dream the man born James Todd Smith has been working towards for over a decade, one that finally reaches fruition with The Force – his 14th album, and first in 11 years. The reason for the long lay-off? His role as special agent Sam Hanna, the clown-fearing hero of TV crime procedural NCIS: Los Angeles. “I signed on to the show and, quite frankly, thought it’d be over in a couple of years and I’d be back doing my thing. But it took off.”Indeed it did. But as LL enjoyed 15 lucrative years apprehending onscreen baddies, off screen he pined for his true love, hip-hop. He’d tried juggling the two, recording 2013’s “experimental” Authentic while NCIS was filming but, sodden with unlikely guest stars, the album was a rare critical and commercial dud. “You can’t be a part-time artist,” he says now. “I was on set, making creative decisions over the album by phone. It didn’t work.” He stored his rap ambitions in the closet, strapped on his fake firearm and walked back in front of the cameras (with one eye out for the clowns). But as NCIS: Los Angeles finally began to wind down, the erstwhile rapper “got that itch again”.LL first caught the bug during hip-hop’s infancy. His childhood in Long Island, New York was marred by violence – in one altercation, his father shot LL’s mother and grandfather (they survived, just), while later his mother’s boyfriend regularly beat the boy. But rap offered an escape: when he listened to early stars like the Treacherous Three, the Crash Crew and The Fearless Four, he says, “I felt peace. Hip-hop gave me bliss, and I wanted to follow my bliss. I went all in: I put pen to paper, and I kept writing and rewriting until what I was writing gave me that same feeling.”LL cut a batch of primitive demos, which fell into the hands of Russell Simmons and Rick Rubin, then founding Def Jam Recordings. LL’s first single, 1984’s “I Need a Beat”, became the label’s third 12-inch release. His second, “I Can’t Live Without My Radio”, hit No 15 on Billboard’s R&B chart, followed by Def Jam’s first album, LL’s 1985 full-length debut Radio. While the industry still considered hip-hop a novelty, LL’s success – shifting 500,000 units in months, eventually going platinum – changed all that. And he quickly decided he wouldn’t fall into the trap of becoming a one-hit-wonder, like so many of rap’s early stars had.“Run-DMC was talking about making their fourth album, their fifth album – and, one day, their ninth album,” he remembers. “And it clicked in my head: I could keep going, too. Nothing lasts forever – but it can definitely last a lifetime.” He drops into the braggadocio mode that characterised his early records. “I have the courage of a thousand lions: if I believe I can do something, you won’t be able to convince me otherwise.”His work grew more sophisticated, adulterating the fierce swagger with role-play, storytelling and, on “I Need Love” from second album Bigger and Deffer (1987), hip-hop balladry. He didn’t fear the mockery of his peers for momentarily ditching the machismo and displaying his softer side. “Only weak people are scared of appearing vulnerable. I was hanging out with some of the most dangerous characters in New York, the guys they made [hard-edged 2002 drug-running thriller] Paid in Full about – hustlers, gangsters. I could make a vulnerable song like ‘I Need Love’ because I was supremely confident in who I was and what I was doing.”Bigger And Deffer went double platinum, and LL’s pockets swam with cash, much of which he spent on cars and thick gold chains. He squandered a fortune, but quickly earned it back, grounded enough to avoid the career-ending mistakes of many of his peers. “My mother told me, ‘Todd, you’re a handsome boy – anything you put your mind to, you can do it,’” he grins. “But my grandmother said, ‘if a task is once begun, never leave it till it’s done. Be thy labour great or small, do it well or not at all.’ She’d holler at me, ‘You’re not little Lord Fauntleroy!’” He dissolves into laughter. “She taught me humility. Cockiness, confidence, even arrogance – it all had its place: on the record. But you leave that behind you once you walk off the pitch – you got to keep things in perspective and not take yourself too seriously.”As his contemporaries crashed and burned, LL Cool J nurtured a long, diverse career. There was the occasional speed bump; 1989’s Walking With a Panther was coolly received by critics and “only” went platinum. Again, LL’s grandmother stepped up, advising him to “knock out” the naysayers; he returned the following year with perhaps his greatest album, the pugilistic Mama Said Knock You Out. Its title track opened with the command, “Don’t call it a comeback”, but the double-platinum album was just that. “I was in the mud a little bit then,” he nods now. “There was definitely pressure to silence the critics. I just wanted to show what I was capable of.”Further hit albums followed, including 1995’s Mr Smith, which played his lover-man persona to the fore, and 2000’s GOAT featuring James T Smith: The Greatest of All Time, which, despite its woefully unwieldy title, became his first chart-topping full-length recording. Simultaneously, the rapper was diversifying. He’d made his onscreen debut in 1985’s Krush Groove, loosely based on Def Jam’s early days, but by the Nineties was starring in his own sitcom, In the House and scoring lead roles in crime thriller In Too Deep, shark movie Deep Blue Sea and Oliver Stone football drama Any Given Sunday, in which he starred opposite Jamie Foxx.This latter pairing exploded into fisticuffs, as LL allegedly walloped Foxx in the chops after director Oliver Stone amped up tensions between the two, to get the onscreen relationship he wanted. “[He] revved it up,” Foxx told Howard Stern in 2017. “I was a huge fan of LL, and Stone kept saying, ‘That’s gonna hurt you and my f***ing film if you still think this guy’s your hero.’ It got kinda crazy. We were clocking each other. LL’s a big motherf***er. But at the end of it, I said to him, ‘No matter what, you’re still my hero, man.’”“Jamie and I was just having fun,” LL says now, not wanting to revisit the scene. “We had a ball.” But as his new career took off, LL felt conflicted. “The more successful I became in acting, the less I wanted to do it, as it was taking me further away from music. I later realised I could find the right balance, that I could do all these things I wanted. But it took time.” Things will work out. Democracy will have its place and America will survive, at least until we go out like the dinosaurs in a mass-extinction eventThe road to The Force was long, and not without false starts, including an aborted dry-run with Dr Dre. “My songwriting wasn’t up to standard – my Bernie Taupin wasn’t living up to Dre’s Elton,” he says. Then Phife Dawg, the late rapper from New York legends A Tribe Called Quest, came to him in a dream. “Phife’s like, ‘Yo, that new record with Dre is gonna be dope’,” LL remembers. “But he gave me a look – like the Cheshire Cat swallowed a canary – that made me feel like he was bulls***ting me, that what I was working on was s***.” Spooked by the dream, LL called ATCQ’s erstwhile leader, rapper/producer Q-Tip. “I told him, ‘I want us to work together on an album. I want pickle juice, hot sauce, crispy skin on the chicken. I want pimentos in the potato salad – spice flavours.’”That’s exactly what Tip delivers on The Force; LL describes his productions as “a sonic landscape I could sink my teeth into”. The music inspired him to be more adventurous in his lyrics: “to talk about new things, not just girls or romance on every track”. The album’s uncompromising opening track, “Spirit of Cyrus” – a collaboration with Snoop Dogg – certainly redraws LL’s paradigm, a chilling chronicle of a “black vigilante” settling scores with his AR-15 and M-16 rifles. It’s a dark fantasy, inspired by real-life events that hit a little too close to home.“This cop, Christopher Dorner, went on a rampage killing people because of racism he felt he’d experienced within the LAPD,” LL explains. Dorner’s rampage lasted for nine days in February 2013, and saw him murder four people – three policemen and the daughter of a retired captain he believed had wronged him – before he took his own life. As the police manhunt heated up, LL received a call from a friend “in law enforcement, who told me, ‘They’re after this killer cop, and he looks just like you. They’re not looking to take him alive, so you best stay indoors, or you could get caught up in something.’”“After Dorner died, I read up on his ‘manifesto’,” LL continues. “I really went down the rabbit hole. A lot of what he was saying was like a metaphor for stuff that was happening at the time, a deep, interesting story people could relate to. I was inspired to take the gloves off and write the track.” It is, by some distance, the hardest, edgiest work of LL’s career, a snapshot of an America fragmenting into bigotry and violence, LL muttering, “they pushed me to my limit/ Racism’s a disease, it’s only right that I kill it”.LL won’t be drawn into commenting on this year’s vote. “I’ve decided not to have my activist hat on,” he says. “I really want to focus on my art.” It’s clear he’s drawing a line under making any further political pronouncements for the present, although he believes “things will work out. Democracy will have its place and America will survive, at least until we go out like the dinosaurs in a mass-extinction event.”Elsewhere, The Force finds LL rapping of hustlers and killers (“Saturday Night Special”), musing on identity (“Black Code Suite”), reflecting on his remarkable career (“Runnit Back”, “30 Decembers”) and indulging in the occasional sex rap (the X-rated “Proclivities”). It’s a dark, satisfying, sophisticated record, and he’s rightly proud of it. “I wanted to show you could continue to make dope stuff and mature as an artist in hip-hop,” he says. “Because – to speak really candid – we’re used to artists coming out with mediocre offerings that aren’t as impactful or innovative as their first few records.”“I wanna show you can be creative in your 40th year of hip-hop, just like a film director can be creative 40 years in,” he continues. “There’s no reason why an artist in hip-hop can’t continue to be innovative, so long as they stay curious and keep caring and coming up with new ideas.” LL says he feels like he did just before Mama Said Knock You Out dropped: “I love the low expectations, playing from behind. It inspires me.”He sees himself almost as an underdog now, an odd position for so successful and beloved an entertainer – one firmly embraced by the mainstream, the first hip-hop artist honoured by the Kennedy Center, an inductee of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, recipient of four NAACP Image awards – to assume. He says that his mainstream status doesn’t compromise his edge as an artist – a statement The Force’s forthright content bears out. “You just gotta be true to who you are,” he says.When he wrote The Force, he took inspiration from Stevie Wonder, Marvin Gaye, Bob Dylan, “artists that wrote about the things that are important to them. I’m not gonna be a prisoner to some mainstream image of myself – what ages well is making what you mean to create. So I said, ‘you know what? I’m just gonna write me some cool s***.’” He looks up to his wall of shiny discs and grins wide. “Imma come from the heart, and let the chips fall where they may.”‘The Force (Frequencies of Real Creative Energy)’ is out on 6 September via Def Jam Recordings/Virgin
LL Cool J on the Best and Most Misunderstood Music of His CareerBy Christopher R. WeingartenA Vulture series in which artists judge the best and worst of their own careers.“I just completely screwed that one up and didn’t mean to. Honestly, it was like losing the playoffs.” Forty years into being America’s Poet Laureate of Braggadocio, LL Cool J’s legacy remains unparalleled. As a teenage firebrand claiming to outwrite Edgar Allan Poe and offering to make Madonna scream, he released his tectonically hard debut Radio in 1985 — the first release on Def Jam records — before becoming a full-fledged superstar with 1990’s Mama Said Knock You Out. Though countless rappers have since vied for his title as the “Greatest of All Time,” nothing could stop the always-magnetic LL from delivering, whether R&B crossover (1995’s “Hey Lover”), hardcore battle rhymes (1997’s “4, 3, 2, 1”), Southern-fried bounce (2004’s “Headsprung”), or vintage rap-rock (2013’s “Whaddup”). Somewhere in between, he found time to become a seasoned film actor, a five-time Grammy host, and a television icon across 14 seasons of NCIS: Los Angeles.Still on Def Jam, LL Cool J is now making us face an unlikely but totally believable reality: One of 2024’s best rap records is by someone who was stealing scenes in Krush Groove before Kendrick Lamar and Drake were alive. Due this Friday, LL’s The FORCE — masterfully produced by Q-Tip at a midpoint between contemporary NYC minimalism and the frayed edges of vintage Dilla — features the once and future Ripper in full blackout mode, off limits to challengers and putting suckers in fear. In essence, R.I.P. meatballs.In a lengthy Zoom call, he broke down the biggest, deffest, and most misunderstood parts of his storied career. However, the undisputed king of scorched-earth wax battles couldn’t pick one of his many lyrical TKOs. “They don’t really occupy a lot of space in my head,” he says. “The one thing about me with the rap shit is that I’m an MC first, and I don’t take it personally.”Greatest SongI would say “Doin’ It.” I think the beat, the lyric, the flow, the collaboration, the moment, the visual — it’s perfect. It was a different time, so the explicit version isn’t even really explicit in this day and age. But at that time it was risquéLL’s wife Simone saw the steamy video for “Doin’ It” after coming home from the couple’s honeymoon in 1995. She told Oprah she didn’t talk to her husband for two weeks. . I mean, it’s sexy, but it’s pretty mild compared to what’s going on now. You know, they talking about brown booty holes now.Baddest BarIt would have to be “Don’t call it a comeback.” It’s not just about hip-hop and LL. It transcends all that. People go through things and switch their lives up and use “Don’t call it a comeback.” It just says so much. Tiger Woods had that moment — he came back and said, “Don’t call it a comeback.”It was technically Tiger’s friend who texted the LL lyric during the golfer’s 2011 run, but the point stands.At the time, people had essentially written me off. Me wearing the diamond chains and the fancy cars and the fur coats and having the girls on the cover — all the things that would become synonymous with hip-hop, I was introducing those elements to the game, and I was paying for it. That was a song that was written out of frustration. I was clawing my way back. I was snatching victory out of the jaws of defeat. It was like a buzzer beater, you know? I remember I was in a room full of guys and they had the Olde English out and the SP-1200, and the beat was playing. It came to me. A lot of my lyrics just come to me. When you get out of the way, they just pop in your head.Most Misunderstood SongI mean, I damn near don’t even want to bring it up, but if I have to it would be “Accidental Racist.” Yo, I completely blew that one. Like, in terms of my intention versus how it came off to people. Oh my God. Like, I missed the mark crazy. And it always bothered me because my intention was absolutely not how it came off. I feel like it was like having a hot date with a vegan and setting everything up wonderful and the first thing the chef brings out is a big, juicy steak. But you think it’s vegan still, you know what I mean? I completely screwed that one up and didn’t mean to. It was the worst kind of miss because it’s one thing to fail; it’s another thing to fail when you’re looking to do the right thing and you’re looking to say the right thing.And then it goes Gold, which is really fucking bizarre. I don’t even have a copy of the plaque. I never even asked for one. Like, I made songs that just weren’t great songs. Okay. I can live with that. But to have a song that garners that much attention and actually negatively impacts the way people perceive my intention was the worst. That shit was the worst. I think it was just the idea that, somehow, I was looking to appease racists. Yo, bro, that is not what I meant. To put it in simple terms, I was trying to say, “First of all, just leave me the fuck alone because of what I look like. Let’s start there. And then we could see what else can happen from there.” But instead, I said the iron chains and the durag … It just was a bad metaphor. It was just all wrong.Best Music Video“Going Back to Cali” aged really well. It’s a very cool video, bro. The bikini small, heels tall, the ocean, the fish bowl. I learned how to drive a stick on that video. I felt like I was in a foreign country, man. I felt like I was on another planet. I was fresh out of Queens and I’m running around on Venice Beach. That may not seem like a big deal now, but when you in the hood your whole life, and you go out to Venice and you driving Corvettes, this porn star’s rubbing my chest … It was wild.That was a time when MTV didn’t really play many rap videos. I thought Martha QuinnA former MTV VJ. was cool. We were like, “Yo, let’s get her in the video to give it some energy and to make it a little bit cooler and maybe they’ll take a look at this song.” I had the “I’m Bad” video. That one was really good too, but it didn’t get the same play. At that time, being a young Black rap artist — and I’m not saying this in any bitter way, but I gotta call it what it is — I wasn’t getting the same treatment as the Beastie Boys. I wasn’t getting those same looks, so it was a little bit tougher for me. Like, can you imagine if Ad-Rock and them made “I’m Bad,” and they were spinning around like that and doing all that shit, what that would’ve been?Toughest Battle OpponentCanibus. Him and Moe Dee both came at me really hard. A lot of them guys were more interested in coming after me than I was interested in going after them, to be honest. Canibus came at me the hardest. He just couldn’t tackle me. Moe Dee did as well with “Death Blow.” You know, with the “L lower lack, living in limbo, laborious …” [Laughs.] I remember being a little kid listening to this shit, like, The fuck is he talking about? Just turn that shit off. And then Canibus getting Mike Tyson on “Second Round K.O.” was strong. That was slick. Me and Mike were cool. But they gassed Mike up and he didn’t even know what he was doing, you know what I’m saying? He didn’t know what song he was getting on. At least that’s what I’d like to think. It was just Team USA in South Sudan, that’s all. [Laughs.] I still got the point. I still walked away with the trophy.Best Squashing of BeefBringing Canibus onstage at Barclays. I got a sold-out show with Run-D.M.C., and I bring him onstage to do “4, 3, 2, 1.” For me, that was big. I just reached out and was like, “Yo, I’d love for you to be a part of it. Come out.” And, you know, he agreed to do it, and we took a picture and everything, and I thought we was good. Another time was when I shouted him and Moe Dee out at the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. But then I seen the guy making comments and he was unhappy with me shouting him out. I thought it was patched up. But I guess people take things the way they take things — I don’t know. For me it was just my way of trying to show respect to competitors and just give love and keep it moving.The one thing about me with all of those battles is it was never a personal thing. It was more like Steph and LeBron playing against each other. It wasn’t me not liking them personally and hating them or having any real ill will toward them. It was just like, we did what we did, we said what we said, cool. We could shake hands after the game. It wasn’t that deep. But, you know, for some of these guys, I guess they lay awake at night staring at the ceiling sharpening they toothbrush and shit. [Laughs.]Song That Should Have Knocked Them OutIt’s on a little indie album I didAuthentic, released in 2013, was the only rap record on 429 Records, a label that also put out post-majors albums by Robbie Robertson, Los Lobos, Joan Armatrading, Camper Van Beethoven and Meat Loaf. . It’s the only album I did that wasn’t on Def Jam. “Not Leaving You Tonight.” Yo, that song right there is amazing, with Fitz and the Tantrums and with Eddie Van Halen playing that guitar solo. That should have been bigger. It should have played on every station in the country. That is the only song out of all of the songs in my career that I look at and say, That song is supposed to be Diamond.I had my toe kind of halfway in the water as a musician ’cause I was doing a TV show. And I just was in a bubble. I made that experimental album and I didn’t focus. So I’m not blaming anyone. I can’t really point the finger. This is kind of a little corny and presumptuous, but it should have went on its own. It’s just that good to me. “These lines on my face are a sign of the times.” Like, come on, bro — talking about growing older and maturing, and the sound of that. I remember playing that song for Rick Rubin and he was like, “Wow, that’s really special.” That’s a song that I’m really, really proud of even though it didn’t have the commercial firepower that some of my other songs had. One day, somebody will be smart enough to remake that song and it will go through the roof.Most Fun He Had in a Film RoleIn Too Deep. Playing the villain. Just being able to let loose and put guns in people’s mouths and put ’em on pool tables and torture ’em and all that. Like, that was right up my alley. I loved everything about it, man. It was loose, it was street, it was ghetto. It was enjoyable playing a completely different person. And working with Robin Williams on Toys was super-fun. Matter of fact, I’ll give you three: Halloween H20. Jamie Lee Curtis was great. She was so fun to work with.Cringiest RoleProbably Rollerball. At the end of the day it’s like, The fuck was I doing on that motorcycle in that racetrack, man? Like, Where are you going, bro? What are you doing? Why are you and Chris Klein in a fucking van? That shit was ridiculous, man. But you know, I didn’t know no better. I look back on it like, “Not your best work. Todd.” [Laughs.] I watched that shit at the premiere and walked outta that motherfucker like, “Welp, that happened.” Me and Chris Klein should apologize to each other for that bullshit. [Laughs.]Wildest Place “G.O.A.T.” Has Entered the LexiconThroat goat. That’s real wild. [Laughs.] Yo, G.O.A.T., that went everywhere, B. The fact that it made it all the way there, that’s kind of bananas.Moment on The FORCE That Does It to These Meatballs“Murdergram Deux,” for sure. Q-Tip played the beat. I actually watched him create a lot of it. It was absolutely amazing to me. Because of the choppiness in the tempo, I felt like Eminem would be perfect for it. We ended up going to L.A. to Dr. Dre’s studio. We recorded together. I would go in and write my verse and record mine in the booth. He would go in and write his verse, record in the booth. We would never watch each other record, except for the very ending when we kind of went back and forth a little.It just came out crazy to me. I think it’s the perfect example of what I was saying when I made that comment. And I remember how many people were like, “Oh, we don’t need this.” But that’s Twitter. That’s the nature of the beast. It is what it is. But I think that it definitely delivers. I think that song is that moment when you see there is a difference between people really into the craft of MCing and people who are rapping because they can. Like when, in the original “Murdergram” in 1990, I said, “the big showdown, the display of skill,” right? I think this took that idea of the display of skill to another level. The way Em is tripling up at the end and the way we go back and forth, and … it just feels right to me. We sound like a rap group.Hardest Song to WriteI’ve never had a hard song to write. Yeah. [Laughs.] I never had one of those.
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