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PROUD ‘BAMA WORDS: MAURICE G. GARLAND PHOTO: JARO VACEK
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irst-hand experience is always better, and more accurate, than simple research. There’s only so much a text-book, newspaper, website, or [gasp] magazine can tell you about a city and the people who live there. Its not until you are able to touch a person’s hand, hear their voice, walk their streets and breath their air that you really get a full understanding of what they’ve seen and what they’ve been through. Birmingham, Alabama has seen a lot since it was founded in 1871, after the Civil War. It flourished widely during the Industrial Era, and suffered greatly during the Great Depression. While outsiders were reading about notorious segregation proponent Bull O’Connor and watching the Civil Rights movement develop on television, the people here lived it first hand and have the scars to prove it. On the lighter side, Michael Jordan played for their Minor League Baseball team during his brief stint in the sport. The city is also home to two American Idol winners, Ruben Studdard and Taylor Hicks. But still, the city carries a struggling, underdog attitude. “The times are real hard right now,” says Aquil Abdur-Rasheed, CEO of Kottage Boy Records and owner of landmark retailer Music & More. “People out here are either rapping, doing drugs or in jail. Things are slow for everybody.” That simple research we mentioned earlier would tell you differently. To have www.wikipeia.org tell it, Birmingham is becoming a “major medical research center and a regional banking and publishing power.” That may be true for some, but not for all. “This is a robbing city; everybody trying to get paper here,” bluntly states Kottage Boy recording artist Birmingham J. “By the time I turn 35 I think there will be more junkies than successful people here. I’ve had a lot of homies go to jail at 16 who are getting out now and going back to what they do.” Of course, that is no new trend to urban America. Crime and desolation have always been neighbors to the inner-city. Especially in places like Birmingham, where 74% of the population is black. And like most metropolises with a predominant African-American presence, hip-hop is the main outlet for expression - and alternative for trouble.
Alabama. They were listening to LL Cool J and Run-DMC during the 80s just like the rest of the country. And yes, they got to see them live too. So be careful the next time you throw around that word “Bama” to hint that someone is stupid. Unless you’re adopting its new meaning courtesy of Mobb Tied’s hit, “Beat A Muthafucka’s Ass.” “People are stuck on that crap the comedians be saying on television about us,” smirks DJ Serious, who holds down shows on Birmingham’s WBHJ and Huntsville’s WEUP. “It takes people coming down here to see that we’re getting it just like them. Ten, fifteen years ago all the clubs was playing hip-hop. People don’t think we played Eric B and Rakim and New York hip-hop down here, but we did.” Of course, every hip-hop loving youngster imitated their favorite rapper in the bathroom mirror, scribbled a couple rhymes at school or even performed in a talent show or two. But it wasn’t until the early 90s when groups like Legion of Doom and R.O.A (Reality Of Alabama) came on the scene that Birmingham got something that they could call their own. Initially both groups were recognized more for their street reputations than lyrical prowess, but R.O.A managed to become a presence musically. Feared as a “gang” or “movement,” the primary members rappers Loc and Monk, producer Kano and executive producer Andre Murrell released their first album, G’s 4 Life, on Creeppstyle Records. The immense popularity of songs like “Giggiddy Bang” and “Nina Nina” made them local stars by the time their sophomore effort, Ready 4 Anything, came out on Chip Records. In addition to nearly signing with Rap-A-Lot Records, the group’s album sold 1,000 copies a week in local retail and was picked up by national retailers like Sam Goody, Blockbuster and Camelot. “We had to be pioneers and learn how to do shit on our own,” remembers Kano, mentioning that they had a buzz all over the Southeast and as far as Chicago. “It was the fans that made us who we were, we was just making hood music and they took it in.” Unfortunately, Chip Records could not supply the demand that the
Contrary to popular (close-minded) belief, hip-hop did not skip over
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(l to r): Big A, Aquil, Calvin, Rome K, D, DJ Serious, Silkk, CJ Tha Stickman, SLP, Pinky, BTDT, Don Dada, MP, Bill Gunnz, JD, Norris Webb, DJ Lee, Attitude, Larry Mosley, Ron White, Murc, Pepper Hamilton, DJ Stickuhbush, Rap God, Big Magic, Super King, Mista Mal, Dirty D, Young Streetz, Caino, Lyrisis, Absoloot, OZONESincere, Nikki Wells, Modesty XO, Yapoet, K Smith, Chi Chi, and Uncensored