Once upon a time, before snare drums of Miami and the whiny synth of G-Funk, the gritty sound of the boom bap was the preeminent noise associated with Hip-Hop. The boom bap of the drum evoked video images of project hallways, dirty sidewalks, the crowded storefront boedga and the concrete jungle. At the heart of that grim reality music was DJ Premier, transplanted Texan with the turntables that changed the way people outside of New York viewed the city. His Gangstarr legacy alone is enough for the Hall of Fame. Add his work with Biggie, Jay-Z and Nas, and his resurrection of KRS-ONE and it doesn’t matter who the best MC is, they all came through his door.

Now after the tragic death of Guru, work with Christina Aguilera, coming work with Chaka Kahn and other side projects, you would think the boom bap would be silenced. But Primo is perhaps its greatest apostle, and he stands ready to spread the gospel with his new label Year Round Records and new artists like Nick Javas. Blessed are those who hear the scratch of DJ Premier, for theirs is the kingdom of Hip-Hop. Here is Primo 1:1.

Planet Ill: Obviously you have an astounding legacy when it comes to Hip-Hop. I guess they can call you the patron saint of the boom bap. How do you get people to separate your legacy and your history from what you’re trying to accomplish now?

DJ Premier: My main focus now is to continue doing what I’ve already been doing which is to put great music out. When it comes to what I’m doing now, I look at it as a new chapter; a new beginning, like Guru would actually say. I’m speaking on Guru because I thought there would be a time when we would reunite and do a 7^th album which I planned to do after a few years of taking a break. And now that I know that there’s no way that it’s gonna happen, I have to accept the fact that he’s gone for real.

Like we have future projects, like I’m gonna do a Gangstarr Foundation album where we have all new material, we have other vocals that haven’t been released that I put new stuff to that he spit to where he sounds like traditional Guru and make it new, but I have to accept moving on. I’ve lost lives in the past and I’ve moved on. Headquaters was an influence on naming the studio Headquarters.

This is the legendary D&D[Studios]. My radio show that I do every Friday on Sirius/XM satellite radio is the future. It’s on Friday nights, ten to midnight. It’s called “Live From Headquarters,” dedicated to him. We take that energy and keep pushing forward and make things better and better like I always have strived to do as a DJ, artist, producer and now a label owner.

The compilation album is just a stalling album to stall while I get their [his artists] albums ready to come out for 2011. I really intended for their albums to be ready this year, really the year before, we planned in ’09 having these albums ready.  Nick Javas has been touring with me the last two years straight. Blaq Poet did the same thing

Planet Ill: That’s [MC] Poet from back in the day?

DJ Premier: Yeah, that battled KRS-ONE and made big history. He was the first in history every to be bold enough to even stand up to Boogie Down Productions and then diss them hard body even knowing there was gonna be repercussions and he still stood his ground. He spoke for The Bridge and that’s what made me discover him, back in ’86 when he did “Beat You Down.”

Planet Ill: You had a pretty extensive run with KRS as well. Was there any leftover feelings from that old battle?

DJ Premier: Yeah, Poet still had feelings with him, so did Just Ice had funny feeligns with Poet. I actually told Just Ice that I was messing with Poet and he was like, “As long as he don’t mention that we got no problems.” I was like, “Come on man, we grown now. At the time he was just standing up for ya’ll dissing him, You know what I’m saying?” Not him but dissing The Bridge.

I’ll be short with it, Poet was coming to a Rock Steady event and I said, “Yo, Just Ice is coming, so come up there.” And boom, when it happened, Poet saw Just and went right to him and said, “Yo, I’m Poet, remember me?” And He [Just Ice] was like “Premier told me he was gonna be working with you!” Now they just buddies.

And then, KRS reached out to me when he did the Marley Marl album, when they did Hip-Hop Lives, and he said, “Yo man, I want Poet on a record with me.” And I asked Poet and he was a little resistant at first, he was like this is deeper; it cuts a little deeper. You know they were really going at it; they were going back and forth with it. Scott La Rock was dissing him, like “Poet, you a crack head,” back when they were running things. All those excerpts where he was like dissing him on the radio.

I told him [Poet], I said, “Yo, this is a good look.” KRS came over here and they went out, just the two of them, and after that KRS was like. “Yo I want you to perform with me tonight at Irving Plaza.” And brought Poet on stage. And I thought that was dope.

Planet Ill: What happens behind the scenes that makes it jump from just the music to taking things real personal?

DJ Premier: Part of it’s ignorance because your honor, your manhood’s being tested and then Hip-Hop comes from a street environment so the mentality is let’s scrap let’s fight. I’m from Texas and we’re raised on fighting with our hands because everybody carries guns. Our laws, we can carry a gun in the glove compartment and I’m not used to all these laws when I moved to New York. Like damn I can’t carry a gun and keep it in my glove box? What if I’m in danger or whatever? Same thing with a rifle, as long as it’s visible in your window, you can carry a rifle. So we all have a different understanding with guns where I’m from where everybody’s raised to fight. And back in our day, like they say you live to another day. Your bruises will heal and you win some, you lose some.

On the mentality of Hip-Hop, I mean look how far, even with Boogie Down Productions. It got a little violent when they were going at it. Just Ice coming to The Bridge with a shottie looking for cats over a rap! Me and Javas was talking bout this the other day. A couple years ago, if you never been in a fight at all, and youre’ doing rap music, you’re gonna get tested on some type of level where you might have to fight some body. But he’s been in fights way before he was rapping.

Nick Javas: Unfortunately.

Dj Premier: He played football, he’s a sports guy, on top of that he’s got a temper. He’s not a punk. Even if he was, that doesn’t have anything to do with what I respect about him, musically and artist-wise, but I’m glad he’s not a punk he can stand up for himself if somebody tests him, I mean I’ve witnessed it firsthand that he’s ready to go, and other people that he’s grown up with have said the same thing, “Javas got a temper and he’s ready to take it there.”

And we’re all like that. I’m definitely not tough; I’m definitely not hard or rugged like that. I love hardcore music, I’m very polite; I’m very much a gentleman but I’ll fight anybody. And usually the bigger people is who I’d like to fight. They usually, they size be an intimidation factor. The little ones be who I look out for, cause they usually got a weapon on them; they’ll jig you with a knife or something like that. You don’t mess with the short people unless they start something.

Nick Javas: You can’t lift weights with your face.

Planet Ill: In your [Nick Javas’] song, “Not A Game,” you mention the aspect of Hip-Hop being a game, not a sport. Do you think that the fact that people call it the Hip-Hop game allows more people than necessary to think they can “play” it?

Nick Javas: Yeah. I think there’s a lot of reasons people take it lightly. People see a lot of things on TV they see, MTV, MTV Cribs; they just see all the glitz and glamor of it. They only see the upside. They don’t see all the people that failed trying to make it. They don’t see the people who make it, failing, cause they fail! You have to fail to get there.

You know how long these cats were probably stressed out before they got to MTV Cribs, before they got to the Grammys, and to the BET Hip-Hop Awards and any type of these things that you see on TV where it’s all good and it seem s like you could just make it overnight? Yo there’s a lot to go into this and if you don’t love it, and you’re not doing it for the right reason it’s going to be really hard for you to do. Especially when you start hitting the road and doing shows the way we do.

Premier’s been taking me on the road for almost a year now. I was like, “Wow, this ain’t fun and games,” all the time. You’re sleeping like two, three hours a night, doing a show in a different country every day. Shit, there’s sometimes I don’t even know where the hell I am! I was in Switzerland talking something about “GERMANY!!” They were like “Fuck Germany!” Like oh shit. Damn and I cleaned it up real quick, I had the Switzerland wristband under the hoodie so they hadn’t seen that yet, so I thought it was a good time to bring that out.

The point I’m trying to make is, yeah a lot of people take it lightly; they think it’s a quick trip to the bank. Nah, man. It’s really not; you gotta work hard at this. And now I’m just happy that I’m in a position where I know that I deserve everything that’s coming to me because I know how much I sacrificed. I know how hard I worked to get here. And if you would have checked me five, six years ago when I made my first demo, I thought I was going to be a star overnight. I thought I was just going to throw my demo out and somebody would be like, “Yo, this kid is dope let’s sign him, let’s make him a star.” The harsh reality is, this is a business. It doesn’t work like that.

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If New York hip-hop has a spiritual gatekeeper, it’s DJ Premier. Along with being part of definitive ’90s rap duo Gang Starr, Premier has balanced crafting songs for certified rap royalty Jay-Z, Biggie, and Nas with supporting the city’s more varied and underground scenes. His upcoming label compilation, Year Round Records: Get Used To Us, sticks to that credo, showcasing life-time Big Apple rhymers Freddie Foxxx, Blaq Poet, and KRS-One alongside more recent home town talent like Papoose, Saigon, and Joell Ortiz–three artists looking to re-ignite their careers after floundering on major labels. Here’s Premier’s take on where New York rap went wrong, why it needs to be destroyed in order to recover, and how he’s warming to his role as elder rap statesman, to the point where he’s creating old school mixtapes to educate upcoming rap cats.

On your new label compilation you feature songs with Papoose and Saigon. A few years back both of them were tipped as future superstars capable of re-asserting New York’s rap credentials, but their careers quickly faded. Why do you think that was?

Papoose had a million dollar deal at Jive but I knew Jive wasn’t going to let him drop all the street shit he was doing. They’re not the same Jive that had Whodini and A Tribe Called Quest and KRS-One and the Fu-Schnickens and all that. Even though they had R. Kelly and Britney Spears and N-Sync, the Jive of old was very eclectic and rooted in what we love about music. They’re not that any more. So when you have a Papoose, he can do some commercial records, but that’s not what he is and that’s not what he does to make you wanna hear more stuff from him. You can’t all of a sudden convert him into a commercial artist. They’re going to force him to make those commercial songs and when they don’t work they’re gonna drop him.

And Saigon?

Same thing — they’re not going to let the grimey, ‘hood, chase-you-with-a-knife music out. They’re not releasing that shit. Sai has more of a commercial appeal, but a street artist has to be broken in the streets first and then developed in the mainstream. You can’t force every artist down someone’s throat. Be realistic with it. I already know what the outcome’s going be when certain artists get a major deal. I mean, they did it with us [Gang Starr]! But we didn’t have to take that commercial commercial route cause we proved to them that we can move units and build up. We went from 280,000 sales of the first album to 320,000 sales to gold to gold again. Consistency was there with everything we released. Even when I produced for other artists, like Jay-Z or Nas or Limp Bizkit, the songs were popular on the street. The street is where you want to get broken at first if you want to be a hip-hop or rap artist.

Do you think that’s something the major labels will ever understand?

They did in the beginning, just cause they were allowing people to take chances. Then when it came down to the money piling in, and it was so cheap to make, the love and passion went away. Then they see the slips in the sales and they panic, like, “Don’t do that street shit, we need more commercial stuff!” No, you don’t. Public Enemy were never commercial but they were commercial as far as their sales cause people wanted it raw. N.W.A. was raw, Ice Cube was raw. Most kids in those white suburbs were out buying raw black music!

Will we ever see rap music that raw being popular on such a wide scale again

Absolutely. We’re just readjusting to the building that collapsed. Not every brick fell — it wasn’t a Twin Towers situation, cause there’s still a lot of life in hip-hop. It’s just going through the destroying phase. I don’t mind that, cause it got saturated with the nonsense. I love gangsta rap, and I have an album project with MC Eiht, from Compton’s Most Wanted, coming up, but there’s still a limit to doing anything. Who regulates it? The people in the structure of the culture. So I’m glad I’m in a position to help fix the problem.

So is there a healthy underground New York rap scene at the moment?

Absolutely, and I’m part of it. Man, it goes deep. I can play a new record on my radio show from Hell Razah, who’s down with the Wu-Tang Clan, and you probably wouldn’t even know he had an album out if it wasn’t for me! There’s a new record from Dysfunkshunal Familee, who are down with the Beatminerz, and most people are like, “Dysfunkshunal Familee? Who the fuck is that?!” J-Live has a new EP out with some hot stuff; Buckwild, who produced “Woah” for Black Rob, he’s got a new album with Celph Titled that’s hot. There’s a guy called Math Hoffa, who’s an upcoming artist, and Illmind and Skyzoo… It’s so much stuff that just doesn’t get regular radio play. Thank god you have me and DJ Eclipse, who does a similar show to me on Sundays. We don’t have a playlist — we make our own choices. If everyone was like that, hip-hop would still be a billion dollar business. Now, it’s just a million dollar business.

What has changed most about the record industry since you first came out?

I’m 44-years-old so I remember when the majors had passion and cared about music. That’s gone now, which is why they crumbled so tremendously. They want to blame the internet but that’s not the main culprit–it’s the lack of passion for what you’re signing. And there’s things like putting an age limit on rappers, like you can’t be 44-years-old and sign to a major label. Come on! When you’ve got an upcoming 18-year-old, the difference is they haven’t experienced the lifestyle of hip-hop when it was fresh and new. The kids today that are born into hip-hop don’t appreciate the history: “Those artists are old so I don’t listen to them!” But if you’re not gonna care about the history of something that’s a culture, then you’re gonna lose down the line. I see that every day. I see when they’ve gotta tour just to pay bills–I’ve been through it. I’ve had money and lost money. My experience is 23 years in the business and there’s nothing I can really be schooled on unless it’s something higher than I’ve experienced.

Why are young hip-hop artists so reluctant to learn about the music’s history?

Well thank goodness for Google you can find out on your own now if you’re curious! I feel if an artist really cares about what they’re doing, they should want to know who the people they like are influenced by, even if it’s 2Pac. There’s plenty of viral footage. There’s so much research you can find now. When I was coming up you had to hunt and look worldwide to find things. They can ask me! Like with Royce Da 5′ 9″, who’s signed with Eminem, cause his rhyming’s so ill I was like, “I know you’re into the Cold Crush [Brothers] and Just-Ice.” And he’s like, “Who’s that?” I’m like, “You don’t know who Just-Ice is? What about Mantronix?” He’s like, “Who’s Mantronix?” He said he was brought up on Redman and Ras Kass, and even though those are great MCs, I was like, “I thought you went back further.” So I told Royce I was gonna make him a CD of some stuff. I did the same with my artist Nick Javas, a white kid from Union, New Jersey, who can rap his ass off but didn’t have any knowledge of the past.

I mean, I stay up, I still study. I know who Waka Flocka Flame is, I know who Gucci Maine is, I know who Nicki Minaj is, and Fred Da God, an upcoming New York rapper. You have to do your research if you’re into your job. Even though I’m into more than just hip-hop–I’ll listen to rock, new wave, The Smiths, all kinds of crazy left-field stuff–I still stay up on rap.

What sort of songs do you put on these CDs you make for rappers?

On that one CD I put T La Rock’s “It’s Yours,” Davy DMX’s “One For The Treble,” Just-Ice’s “Going Way Back.” I put him up on T Ski Valley’s “Catch The Beat,” all the Sugarhill stuff, Spoonie Gee, Sparky D, Roxanne Shante, the Juice Crew, even the Wild Style soundtrack. These are the building blocks of what I do.

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More more more interviews!

It’s not every day you get to interview a true hip-hop legend, someone who has paid their dues ten times over and always held on to their core values despite the ever-changing musical landscape. That kind of strength and character not only made Preem’s signature drums and crisp scratches great but immortal, destined to live forever in the same vein as Miles Davis, James Brown and Bob Marley. And sure, DJ Premier has been doing more interviews as of late to promote his upcoming compilation Year Round Records: Get Used to Us, but it’s not until you hear his scratchy, deep baritone vibrating through your cell phone speaker that it really hits you that you’re carrying on a conversation with THE DJ Premier, the man responsible for crafting countless classics as one-half of Gang Starr while still snapping necks with the likes of Jeru the Damaja, KRS-One, the Group Home, Notorious B.I.G, Jay-Z, Cormega, Screwball and Nas (among many, many others).

As Primo’s voice battles the static on our phone connection, I can tell he’s excited about where his talents have been taking him lately, as he’s wrapping up his compilation album along with albums from NYGz, Khaleel and MC Eiht and Young Malay while continuing work on signee Nick Javas’ debut album Destination Unknown, DJ Premier Versus Pete Rock and a new KRS-One album Return of the Boom Bip. But right now, Premier is more hyped over what just transpired in his day. DJ Swa, a talented DJ from France, was hanging out with Premier and asked to go to Queensbridge to sit on the same park bench where Nas once sat to write Illmatic. Not only did Preem take Swa to QB, he took him to Nas’ old apartment. The current tenant, upon recognizing Premier, invited the two of them into Nasir’s old stomping grounds for a makeshift tour that reduced Swa to tears.

As soon as Premier drops Swa off at the airport, it’s back to the grind, which means answering questions that I’ve been mentally storing ever since I heard his first scratch. Thus began an interview that flowed more like a conversation that ranged from his upcoming projects to staying motivated to why Busta Rhymes hasn’t been able to find a suitable banger from the production god. Read on for the full, unedited DJ Premier HipHopGame interview.

CLICK HERE TO READ DJ PREMIER: THE INTERVIEW OF THE YEAR

A master manipulator of jazz records since the early 1990s, DJ Premier casts a long shadow over anyone who makes sample-based music. Routinely named one of the top five hip-hop producers of all-time, the Brooklynite is in an especially talkative mood when he calls the Straight, tackling a variety of topics in a rambling hour-long chat. On the subject of his own longevity, for instance, he claims he’s among the last of a dying breed.

“I wish Whodini or Stetsasonic or Big Daddy Kane would come out with an album right now,” he says. “But a lot of these guys are either mad or bitter that they’re not as relevant as they used to be. You have to know who you’re making music for. I can’t make the new generation like me, because they didn’t grow up on me. So I stick to what I know.”

To that end, Premo has established Year Round Records to showcase his productions for rappers who share his reverence for the old school. Later this year, he will release a label compilation to preview upcoming albums he’s currently producing for upstarts like Nick Javas (a fiery Italian-American spitter) and Houston’s Khaleel (a laid-back drawler) and legends like KRS-One and MC Eiht.

“I told all my artists that we’re going to be struggling together,” says Premier, who enjoyed big-label riches as a member of Gang Starr in the 1990s. “You might see me wearing the same old Big L [a deceased ’90s-era rapper] shirt all the time because I always put my money back into the company.”

A hitmaker for artists ranging from Nas (1994’s seminal “N.Y. State of Mind”) to Christina Aguilera (2006’s retro-tinged “Ain’t No Other Man”), Premier is unparalleled among boardsmen in his ability to coax great vocal performances from his collaborators. That should be the key for any producer, says the Houston native, who counts Bun B, Fat Joe, and Busta Rhymes among his most recent clients.

“I’m from the pre–Pro Tools era where you had to meet up with the artist and go over things if you wanted to record a track,” he says. “I’m real particular about delivery. You can write the illest rhymes in the world, but can you deliver it right? It’s like, we all know how to put our dick in the hole, but can you tear it up?”

One of those who routinely tore it up was Guru, Premier’s iconic Gang Starr collaborator. After the rapper passed away in February, a farewell letter surfaced in which Guru purportedly denounced Premier. The letter’s validity has been questioned by the rapper’s family and by Premier himself, who is planning a tribute concert in 2011 that will reunite everyone with whom Gang Starr collaborated, including Jadakiss and Snoop Dogg.

“I miss yelling and arguing with that bastard,” says Premo of his long-time partner. “That motherfucker is a roach; he doesn’t die. I can’t believe he’s gone. When I spoke at the funeral, I promised I’m never going to speak of him in the past tense. I won’t say he was; I’ll say he is.”

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DJ Premier playing tonight in Vancouver, but you already knew.

DJ Premier knows how to dougie. “I studied doing the dougie in the mirror so I could have it down in case any kid wants to challenge me,” the 44-year-old Primo says from his HeadQuarterz studio, while previewing his self-produced compilation Get Used to Us on his new self-sufficient label Year Round Records. Premier is using the comp to showcase signees Nick Javas, NYGz, and Khaleel and to also demonstrate he hasn’t lost a step with celebrated collaborators like Freddie Foxx, KRS-One, and Blaq Poet. As the dance of the month gathers dust, Premier is still digging through dusty crates looking for the perfect beat. Here, the living legend talks about technical and personal notes alike with a laid-back demeanor not always expected from a true living legend.

You said that you’ve gone back to the “Gang Starr way,” starting with lists of song titles from an artist, vibing off the concepts and filling them in with beats and sounds. When does your side of the work begin? Is it when you have your tools in your hand? Or are you at such a level that you walk around and hear a whole track in your head?

If I’m not planning, I can be doing anything, like sitting here talking to y’all, and at a point when we’re not really speaking, I might think about formatting tempos, and that I can grab those drums from so and so, and how I can use those and put a twist on them, then look around and start experimenting from there, matching sounds with what I think it should sound like.

I might find some Chinese music, and it might be dope, but it might not fit the song. Then I mark it and put it to the side. I didn’t used to do that but now I know how much I can get done if I stay on top of my job. Crazy Toones, Ice Cube’s DJ, said Bootsy Collins told him that even if it’s just a horn blast, record it and lay it down. Even if I don’t come back to it for a few years, I might [eventually] build off it. I always have ideas, and instead of doing one joint now I focus on three or four a day, and it’s been working. It takes up more time but it gets more done than one every two weeks. I’m glad I’m in that mode right now.

Are you conscious there’s a “Premier” sound? Is it something you can put in words?
I’m not even trying to make the sounds. It’s just a certain way I apply my samples to the drums, they have a certain bounce. I think my drums have a bounce that makes you know it’s me. When you hear “Mass Appeal,” it’s the bounce of how I make my drums and samples collide that lets you know it’s me. ”Dwyck” has this bounce, and “You Know My Steez” has its bounce, and then I can do a Jay-Z record like “D’evils,” and they all have a signature. That’s not me even trying to do that where its noticeable; it’s the way I lock up the samples. They have to be really, really tight with the drums, so the drums I use are a major issue. A dope sample is how you match it with the percussion part. You can use any kick and snare, but there’s certain ones that I use, and then I’ll go back to traditional ones and people will go, “Oh, I know that, that’s Preem.” Marley Marl would do that sometimes. He’d go back to one he hadn’t used in two or three albums, and then you’re like, “Oh that’s the ones he used on such and such, and he flipped it this other way.” I am conscious of that all the time.

When listening to say “Manifest” versus “Kick in the Door,” with the “Night in Tunisia” sample more straight-forward than the Screamin’ Jay Hawkins (“Kick in the Door”) coming in at an angle, it seems you’ve really advanced in the ways you sample, even then. Do you hear it differently now? How have you pushed and progressed in using sampling as an instrument?
I experiment more ’cause I got more analog outboard equipment like the Motif ES, the Rackmount [sampler workstation]. What I’ve had for a long time is pads [on an MPC sampler and drum machine]. I used to do my bass lines on just the pads and tune ‘em on the MP like I did on “Unbelievable.” Then I started getting more into doing bass lines on the keyboard with different types of bass sounds, and then that elevated to the Motif and then Mo-Phatt and Planet Phatt [synths], deciding these are gonna be my traditional bass sounds.

I haven’t done a padded bass line since I did the Common record “Sixth Sense.”When you go away from it for a while then come back and use those traditional ones it makes people notice. It’s fun to stray away and come back. Now I’m coming back to straight loops again, which I haven’t done. I’ve been chopping samples for a while now; straight loops are sounding better than chops right now because I’ve been chopping records for eight to 10 years straight. I haven’t done straight loops in years. It’s like when Kanye said he’s gonna back to boom bap for his new project. When you go back to it after leaving it for a while, everyone is looking forward to that, that old pure way but with the mentality that you have now rather than when you were at a younger age. But if I use, say, “Superfly,” it’s an obvious sample, it’s gonna get chopped. I’m known for being an innovator, so I’m gonna do it in an innovative way, chopping it and making it ill.

Where did you learn the dynamics of music? Did you play instruments when you were younger?
I took piano lessons, something you don’t get when you were a kid. I was like, “Mom, I don’t wanna do this. Boys don’t do this.” So I quit. But I found myself knowing where middle C is. When I was a kid I always knew where middle C was and e-g-b-d-f lines of the staff and f-a-c-e the spaces, I always remembered that. Now that I do hip-hop, I’m back to it. I do a lot of hunting and pecking but I can do chords. I play piano, too. I’m not ill or anything but I can do a little something. I play drums, I play bass, I play guitar. I played guitar in church. I played alto sax in school then strayed away. I won first chair quite a bit. I used to challenge one of my neighbors who was ill. She beat me once and I was so mad that I lost that I challenged her that next week and played my heart out just to get my spot back and won first chair. Then I got tired of it again.

Looking back to all those things, you can definitely tell it applies to the way I sample ’cause I’m catching it from a full musical standpoint, not just looking for a sound and looping it. A lotta different things are going into that, I can harmonize keys over that, or this bass line’s gonna bring it out iller, or I can put a horn there. It’s applying instruments and orchestrating the whole band without all the members.

Is it that sense of competition as it exists within hip-hop that accounts for your consistency? Group Home came out 15 years ago, and here we are now. It’s unprecedented in this genre, and maybe any other. What accounts for that?
I love competing with everybody. I believe I’m one of the illest, but I don’t carry myself like that. You‘ve gotta have that type of attitude to make it. When you play yours next to mine on a bangin’ system, your shit ain’t better than mine. That’s how I feel. That’s why I fiend to hear other people’s music. I like to listen to other people even when I DJ, and everybody wants me to play my hits, my underground bangers, but I like playing other people’s records. I wanna play rare records like Sir ABU “Holy War,” which they might not even be into.

But I’ve been blessed to be in the business where people love what I do, and hell yeah I’m competing with everybody. If Dre’s got Detox coming, I better be able to drop an album that he’ll think is dope. I know we respect each other as producers, and he’s on my mind. Jay-Z’s on my mind when I make beats. Even if it’s not intended for him, I know he knows how to judge what I do because we’ve worked together before. Everything we’ve done was good. So when I do other albums with other people, he’s still judging it based on what I do with him. So the competition part is with everybody. Young and old.

You have chemistry with Jay. Particularly with the new projects on Year Round, how do you know when you connect with an MC?
Everybody’s different. Sometimes it’s fun from the gate and other times it’s like we’re gonna get it done to where everybody’s happy. If Nas said tomorrow we’re starting on an album, I’m going super deep because I know how deep he can go. I know it’s gonna come out ill. And then if Jay says let’s do an all-Premier album, I know how deep I gotta go for him ’cause he’s on that level of having proven it. Certain artists haven’t proved it. They can’t go deep. They may be nice to certain degree, but you play them something that’s a little left field, and they don’t get it. That’s one thing I like about Freddie Foxx too. He’s never a gotten a beat from me that I made just for him, except for “Militia,” and that was for him as a special guest with him, Guru, and Big Shug. He’s done a Charlie Baltimore beat she didn’t like. He knew how to take it and make it his and still be him, and some artists can’t do that.

People like Foxx or Poet don’t always get the recognition.
I was a big Poet fan, PHD [Blaq Poet and Hot Day], into them hardbody. It doesn’t have to be hardcore only, but I just love hardcore. Not a lotta of groups really do it right. M.O.P knows how to make hardcore, Freddie Foxx, certain artists can do it, Public Enemy makes good hardcore shit and they’ll even say it. I love Onyx. Aggressive records get me more hype than laid-back stuff, but again Rakim to me is hard even though he had a laid-back mellow voice. That’s what’s fun for me to listen to, and another one of the reasons I wanted to mess with Poet even though I knew he was older. I didn’t care about his age. Is the stuff dope? That was the most important part for me.

I’m like that to this day with any artist. If it’s a Kanye I’m not gonna give the same approach to him, but I know the stuff we’re gonna do together will work. He’s another one I know I can go left field with and he’ll get it. I like people like NYGz [Year Round signees] that have their own vision; I don’t have to think for them. Some artists don’t have it, and you constantly have to shape them. Even if it’s doable or not doable, I still want the artist to see their own visions. I remember when we did the Poet album [Tha Blaqprint, 2009] he wanted just the subway map for the cover, but I asked, “What does it signify? Tha Blaqprint is like your blueprint of Queensbridge. What if it was a blueprint of the bridge when they built it?” I had a vision based on his vision of what he wanted to do with the album. What if we found the Queensbridge plans, the dimensions — I took drafting in college, that whole thing. It became not too tacky but effective in relation to his vision for the music and the title coming together.

You’re from Texas, but did you come out to New York often as a kid? Or was it the Wild Pitch demo that brought you here?
My parents and two older sisters and I, we’ve been going to New York since we were young. My mother was from Baltimore. She had that city mentality, and her father lived in Bed Stuy. We used to always go see him for Thanksgiving and every summer and Christmas, all the holidays. I was his only grandson, and he used to take me to baseball games, even Mets games when he was a Yankees fan. We were both into music, and we were really close through music and baseball. I used to go a lot of places with him while my mom and sisters went shopping. Once I came with two friends of mine from Texas. I was in the fifth grade, and I’ll never forget we were staying at the Waldorf and my boy that came with us was staying at this place called the Summit that doesn’t even exist anymore. We used to go this place called Chock Full O’Nuts — that diner from back in the ’70s — and when we went there a guy committed suicide on the train that we were riding. We saw him when he was dead, right in front of us. When you’re in fifth grade, that’s the story to tell your friends: “Yo, man, we saw somebody kill themselves on our train, and his arm was cut off and it was still moving.” I was like, “I’m coming back here. This is where I wanna live. This is exciting. I wanna see all the crazy action.”

The day before the guy killed himself we went to the Yankees game with my grandfather, and then we went to the arcade. That’s when we saw the DJs cuttin’ up, with two turntables. This other kid would stop and play the boom box, and one guy was playing “You’ll Like It Too” from Parliament. I was like, “Yo, all these records that I have that I just listen to at the house parties my sisters used to throw, the part that we like on the record, the DJ is actually playing that part over and over.” I saw all these cats breakdancing, which reminded me of locking. At the time everyone was doing that locker shit from L.A., pointing and all that shit. We were doing all the dances, too.

By the time I was 13, I started going to stay with my grandfather by myself when he moved from Bed Stuy to Canarsie. As time passed he got sick, and I met Gordon [Franklin, Premier’s friend and label manager] in college and started staying with his family, and that’s when I started shoppin’ my demos in New York. Wild Pitch [a defunct label that Guru worked with] was up on me. I was in a group with homies from college. Wild Pitch didn’t like my MCs but they liked my production and my cuts. I didn’t wanna leave my homeboys, and I stayed loyal to them until the main guy went to the military for four years. Then I was available. Guru said he wanted me to be in a group with him; he felt his DJ and MC then weren’t struggling with him like they should, so he moved on and kept the name Gang Starr. We clicked on the phone. We was just in sync with everything we was into, and we did the “Manifest” track over the phone two or three times and recorded it. It took off. I went back to New York to shoot the video then back to school, and everybody was like, “They’re playing your video on Yo! MTV Raps.” And then I decided to stay in New York permanently. I was gonna stay eventually, but I did it then. Glad I did.

You mention the body on the tracks and kids cutting up records and the impressions that made on you. This sounds like the genesis of the grimy East Coast sound as we’ve come to know it. People really consider you the living embodiment of the authentic hip-hop sound, the one who preserves it. How does that affect you? Are you conscious of it?
It’s always a conscious thing. I don’t wanna get too gassed up to the point where somebody can knock me off the hill, but inside I’m like, “I’m ill.” But I don’t wanna be looked at as an asshole. When I’m around a friend, I might be like, “No one can fuck with me,” but even they know I’m not cocky, they know that’s not my way, I’m not walking around like that. And I was raised right by my parents. My parents are still together, both in their 80s, and they have a lot to do with it. My father still checks me with my language. I say I’m grown now, but my father, he’s on You Tube and all that, and he sees his grandson with me “and Pharrell’s cursing out that Jungle Brothers guy.” I’m like, “I know, that was Kanye’s concert,” and he’s tellin’ me, “Don’t talk that way in front of my grandson.” I tell him he’s not getting everything we’re saying. We communicate in our language. You might speak Spanish around Spanish people, you might speak English around people who speak English. And I tell him we don’t do it just to do it; I justify what I say and he’ll say he understands, but he’s not with it. Still I’m conscious my pops is listening to what’s coming outta my mouth. He raised me better than that, he feels, but we don’t curse just to be cursing. Some people can relate, like some of his friends, who cursed around me when we were little kids. A neighbor, Ms. Webster, cursed probably more than anybody, but she cursed “properly.” She’d say “Shit that motherfuckin’ nigga” at the right time. She knew we were gonna hear it and she was an English teacher. To this day is I can still go see her, and I still feel like that same kid who was like, “I wanna go hear Ms. Webster curse and talk some shit.”

But the beauty of communication is that everybody has a different way of speaking language. I’m more vocal on stage now, too. I feel strong and big. I used to not be like that. I used to just wanna play the music and let Guru do all the talking, and he was one of the first people to tell me I should start talkin’ more. Little by little I got more confident. Now when I’m on stage I’m an animal. I can’t be calm. All those elements that make me love hip-hop — James Brown, Chuck D, M.O.P, Onyx, anybody that’s rowdy, RUN-DMC, all of them — all of that’s in my head when I perform. From the top of lungs I gotta make sure that those people are there with me. I’m here to put out my energy and drain myself for you. Showbiz [from D.I.T.C] was saying at a job people put things in to make something come out. He said we put things out to make people feel something within.

And hip-hop is one of the most universal languages. I’ve seen all the different people that come to the shows. I go to these different countries where there’s not a lot of black people or Spanish people, or any Latino people at all. These people are singin’ the words. The beat comes on, they go crazy, and I’m sitting there like, “Damn, this shit has taken me this far.”

When you put something out there like that, do you feel a personal connection returned? When Guru passed, fans reacted like they really knew the two of you as people. Do you get that sense, this type of relationship that people feel runs so deeply?
I’ve had more than one person tell me I’ve saved their life. That’s not in the same box as, “Oh, your shit is dope,” almost like they know me and they don’t. “I was gonna kill myself and you saved my life.” I almost wanna ask them, “How did I save your life?” Just the fact that they said that, though, I feel like I don’t need to hear more. If whatever I‘m doing is saving lives, I gotta keep doing it. People told that to Guru and me many a time. That’s a steep statement to make. And I know all the fuckin’ up and inaccuracies I’ve done with my life, and these people are feeling that way about me; it’s a different type of a wakeup call. And it’s needed sometimes. if I’m in a bad mood and I’m not feeling right and someone tells me that, I’m just like, “Shit, I’m back, I’m all right.” I don’t need someone to pat me on the back and tell me I’m dope, but when it comes down to it I’ve made them feel something.

What’s inspiring you with Year Round, and what’s gonna keep it going?
It’s always different. Running a label is a whole different headache, but I know how much I can do with it — film, video, so many things artist-wise. I don’t wanna sign anyone else outside of Nick, NYGz, and Khaleel. Just keep it specialty, do a Pete Rock and Premier album; there’s a market for that, and I can put it out and there’s no headaches of promoting it. Do the release with [MC] Eiht [which Premier co-produced]. He wanted a good channel to put it out through, and that’s it. A KRS-One and Premier album is easy to do. Kris might not go platinum or gold, but a lot of people would wanna hear it. Those same fans exist; they’re just older. I might buy Rick Ross, Soulja Boy, Wacka Flocka, but I still need another Jay album, another Tribe. I’m talking about me as a consumer. I need that. If Ultramagnetic MCs have a new album coming out, I’m like, “Oh, shit, good.” Son of Bazerk is dropping a new album and they were left, far left field, affiliated with P.E. and Chuck D and Johnny Juice Rosado, and I’m like, “Word, send it to me.” I wanna hear it ’cause I know what they left behind and where they stopped, and they should hopefully sound like they did when they stopped.

How it was with Gang Starr, every time we stopped, sometimes four- or five- or six-year breaks, the next album always sounded like it picked up where the last one stopped. All of that is just passion and love, man. I’m just passionate about the shit still. It’s still fun to go, “Oh, I’m gonna make a beat tonight that’s ill.” All of that is still a thrill to me. That’s why I do it.

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Shout out to PreFix for making a good interview with superb questions!!

How do you forget to squeeze your nose before doing an interview with the king in his castle?

You’re doing an entire project with producer Stu Bangas. How did that come together?

Well, Stu got at me over the net. He reached out and we did a couple joints. And then I was feeling his style so, you know, he wanted to do a couple joints together and he said he wanted to do some shit with me and I was like, ‘Oh, word.’ I’m always looking for new talent and new producers to fuck with anyway so we ended up doing a nice little project. We almost finished wrapping that up. It’s called B.P.S: Blaq Poet Society.

How did you guys first meet?

Oh, wow. I can’t put my finger on it. It seems like I knew him for fucking ever. I can’t really remember, man. Too much Henny! (laughs) Word! But you know, he even came out to my crib in Long Island and we shot a quick little video. Stu is just grinding, man. I respect his grind. I really respect that dude’s grind. That’s one thing that led me to his beats and shit, you know?

Your first leak is “Power Music.” Are you happy with the fans’ response to that so far?

Well, you know, he released it real quick just to tease people. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I like the response, man. It’s just a little something-something for dudes to remember it’s still dangerous in my circumference. It’s just letting dudes know it’s real dangerous with me, still. But yeah, I love the way fans are reacting to that, man. I’m trying to keep them in tune with the hardcore shit. I don’t want them to fall off the map. They have to remember what this hip-hop shit is – hard beats and hard rhymes. That’s what I love. I do what I love – power music.

Is that kind of music dying out today?

Oh yeah, for sure, man. People, you know, it’s just not there. These dudes, a lot of them are not making it. The veterans are not making no new shit, so what the fuck are these little boys gonna follow? They’re not gonna have no choice but to follow the other shit but I don’t like the other shit. The beats are soft, the rhymes are weak…I ain’t really feeling that shit, man. But yeah, I gotta keep the fans in this area, that hardcore area, so they know this is what you rhyme like. If I could teach a couple of youngsters how to do this hard shit and how to keep it going, then I’ve did my job.

Who are you feeling coming out of QB today?

Oh, everybody. I got the whole ‘hood rapping. The whole ‘hood! I got my dudes SSR popping – Show Some Respect. They’re popping and they’re grinding hard. You have the whole Dime Block Posse. Everybody get off over there. I got my dude Hood. I’m working with him. That’s one of my dudes and shit. He’s on the come up. Of course the Cormega’s. That’s my little baby boy. The Nature’s, he’s still around. And there’s a whole lot of other dudes on the come up, like Crime Family and Lord Black. It’s on and popping in the ‘Bridge right now. We got a whole lot of dudes on the come up.

Is Blitz still around?

Oh, Blitz is around. Trust me. He’s doing his thing. Blitz is fire.

I wasn’t sure if he was still around.

And of course my baby boy Ammo from ACD. He’s the first Puerto Rican nigga from the ‘Bridge rapping. That’s my dude. He’s dangerous on the mic. You’re going to hear some new shit from him. Word. The ‘Bridge is still popping. Word. The ‘Bridge is still popping.

I heard you’re working to get some big names on Blaq Poet Society too like Ron Artest and Cormega. How’s that working out?

I’ve been texting Ron back and forth for a couple of weeks. We haven’t gotten a chance to do that yet because he’s back in training and going for another ring, so we might have to put that one on hold. But back to the up-and-coming dudes from the ‘Bridge, I got my dude Matrix and Sabotage Bars and my dude Mike Delorean.

I haven’t heard anything about Mike Delorean in a while.

Oh yeah, he’s still popping. My nigga Bars from Bars N Hooks is doing his thing.

What was it like in QB when Ron hit the three at the end of Game 7 of the NBA Finals?

Oh, the ‘hood was going crazy. The ‘hood went crazy! Everybody was happy for Ron. He deserved it. I watched that boy grow up. Everybody felt like they was on the court.

With Ron’s inconsistent shooting, were you nervous when he took that shot?

You can never tell, but he felt it! Ron never stops! Ron is different, man. Ron never stops. He was doing things all game. He brought them back. He held them down the whole fucking game. I was feeling that last shot!

What was it like seeing Ron grow up?

I’m older than him. He’s my little dude. I loved watching him practice with his pops and all that. He used to always be on the block in the snow and the rain, practicing his shot on the block and all that. I always knew he was going to do things. Then he went to St. John’s and started doing things at St. John’s and then he got with the Bulls. It’s been a crazy, long ride. I’ve loved watching Ron play.

And it never gets boring.

There’s never a dull moment with Ron. You already know, don’t throw no beer at him! Don’t throw nothing at him!

Your last album Tha BlaqPrint came out last summer. Were you happy with how that project did for you?

Oh yeah, no doubt. Shout out to Premier. That was a nice little shot in the arm for hip-hop. Now I gotta keep it popping.

Are you still working with Premier today?

Oh, no doubt. You know, Primo, he be busy so I’m trying to keep it popping. That’s why I’m on the hunt for new up-and-coming talent and producers and the dudes that I’m feeling. But yeah, man, me and Primo, man, it’s just a matter of time. We’re going to get around to getting another project out there.

Does it ever take too long waiting for a mix or a song from Primo?

Well, you know, fine wine takes time. It’s definitely worth the wait. A lot of people complain that Primo takes a long time, but when that shit comes, it’s there. It’s nothing, man. You just gotta wait. That’s all. It’ll come.

“Igetitin” was one of my favorite songs of last year. What was it like putting that one together?

Oh, that was crazy. I heard that beat and I knew I had to destroy that shit. I liked that hardcore beat. I was like, ‘Oh, man, that was an easy one to do.’ I love rhyming to them hard beats like that. When I heard that I had to go in. I had to get it in!

If someone told you they were knocking off liquor stores to that, how would you feel?

(laughs) I wouldn’t be honored to hear that you’re wilding! I’d be glad that you love the song and it’s the theme music for the ‘hood and for the streets, man. You gotta have your theme music to do what you do. Just don’t say that I made you do it.

I’m a law-abiding citizen, but that song definitely takes me to a dark place.

Don’t do anything man unless you’re ready, for real!

If I get picked up, can I call you?

Let me tell you, man, let me tell you, Remember that I don’t care, let the guns blow! Ahh! I’ll send you some Newports though! I’ll send you some cigarettes! (laughs)

That means the world to me.

Nah, but I just love doing this hardcore music and that people recognize that I went in and I try to do my hardest all the time. I always like when people like what I do. Word.

This is an older question, but we haven’t talked in a while. How did the remix for “Ain’t Nuthin’ Change” come about?

MC Eiht called Premier and told him he wanted to get on that and Primo had Malay. I didn’t know those guys. They heard of me. Primo asked me if I wanted to do it with them and I told him, “Hell yeah, that’d be gangsta, from New York to Cali, let’s do it!” I did my verses and Primo mixed it up and it was a banger! Shout out to the Westside!

Have you talked to DJ Hot Day lately?

I talked to him the other day. We stay in touch. We talk almost every other day. Shout out to Hot Day! He’s doing his thing. He’s out there DJing around the U.S., spreading that hip-hop and keeping that hip-hop alive.

What would it take to get a PHD reunion?

All it would take is time. It wouldn’t take nothing. We already talked about doing a couple of joints and giving hip-hop another shot in the arm. That’s not hard to do. It’s just a matter of time. Everything comes in time, baby.

How do you feel hearing your first album Without Warning today?

Oh, man! (laughs) Without Warning, that’s my shit! I feel I’ve gotten a little better than that since then, but that was the shit right when it came out, man.

What was it like working with Cormega on “Set It Off”?

Oh, that was nothing! You know, Mega’s in the ‘hood doing his thing and I was in the ‘hood doing my thing. He was definitely on the come up and we had to do something. We did it! There wasn’t a whole lot of thought put into it or a whole lot of brain surgeries. It was me and Cormega are going to do a song and we decided let’s bang out and Hot Day was always recording anyway and he wanted to do a joint with me and Cormega and I was like, ‘Say no more, let’s do it.’

Obviously Screwball can never be the same without KL. What’s the future for Screwball music?

I’m trying to organize a little Screwball group with me and Ty Nitty. That’s Screwball’s little brother, Ty Nitty from the Infamous Mobb. And my man Skate from Boston and Kyron from the original group. We can put it together. It’s just a matter of time of getting that together and keeping it tight. Word to KL.

Would you use any of KL’s unreleased verses?

Oh, nah, man. I think there’s two joints that we have with KL. But other than that, you know, we’re not trying to exploit my man like that. But I do want people to hear his work that he did have on the come up. It’s just a matter of time before we get it all ironed out and do it correct. I just want to do it correctly.

What about Hostyle? Where’s he?

Hostyle, I don’t know what’s going on with him. He’s going through a couple of personal issues. He’s out there and he’s still doing his thing, but I’m not really in touch with him right now.

Have you talked to Marley Marl lately?

Yeah. I text Marley. We talk off and on. The last time I talked to him he told me he got a spot on Sirius Satellite now. He’s bringing his Future Flavas show to Sirius Satellite now. Marley’s still doing his thing and representing that real hip-hop and spreading the word.

What else are you focusing on in the next few months?

I’m gonna stay writing. I want this Stu Bangas project to come out. I got another project I’m working on called EBK – Everybody’s Killa. I’m trying to get all the kinks out and get shit right on that. You know, I’m just trying to always stay writing, man, and having shit to put out. Word.

Source: HHG

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