By Shelby Powell

Rappers have always rapped about drugs, primarily because many of them are from areas heavily burdened with the pain of addiction. They spin tales of dope boy lives and climbing to the money mountain top by hustling their intoxicant of choice from this corner or that one. But when you turn down the volume and look at what they are talking about, it’s not glitz. It’s not glamour. As a matter of fact, prior to March 27th 2009, if you lived in New York, it was probably a lengthy jail term without the benefit of treatment or rehabilitation. And you could thank the Rockefeller Drug Laws for that.

The laws, enacted under Governor Nelson Rockefeller in 1973, were the strictest of their kind in the country. While the intent was to catch and incarcerate upper level members of drug cartels flooding the streets of New York with their product, the net cast found a host of low level offenders and addicts. Sentencing at the judge’s discretion was also eliminated and replaced with long mandatory sentences with no regard for the offender’s situation or circumstance. By 2008, there were 14,000 drug offenders in New York’s prison system. According to drugpolicy.org, over 90 percent were either black or Latin.

As the resentment mounted over a grouping of laws that obviously missed their mark, the hip hop community stepped in. But they weren’t singing the praises of scales and pipes. They were taking a stand against laws that unfairly targeted the dude on the corner and the addict he sold to. They were taking a stand against the dissolution of urban families due to the lengthy incarceration of one parent or maybe two. They were taking a stand against the life that forced them to pick up their pen and pad in the first place.

In 2003, a group of protestors which included Jay-Z, 50 Cent, Mariah Carey, Dame Dash, Busta Rhymes, Erykah Badu, M1, the Beastie Boys and Fat Joe took their cause to the steps of City Hall in Manhattan. The event was chronicled by filmmakers Michael Skolnik and Rebecca Chaiklin and later released as a documentary entitled Lockdown, U.S.A. Jim Jones recorded a song of the same name for the event. The demonstration attracted over 60,000 people and was the catalyst for a small reform put into place the next year. The changes included a shortening of some offenders sentences and the addition of in-prison drug counseling. But the crux of the argument, the extended mandatory sentencing, was not addressed.

“The Hip Hop Community hopes that the new provisions proposed will bring retroactive relief to those unjustly incarcerated in the state prison system. This is an important step forward and we must continue to raise our voices until full justice is served to the families and communities disproportionately impacted by these laws during the past three decades,” said Hip Hop Summit Action Network President Dr. Benjamin Chavis via an HSAN press release after the revisions were signed into law.

Dr. Chavis’ sentiment is supported by a large coalition of activists, including the Drug Policy Alliance and Mothers of the NY Disappeared. Last week, their persistence was rewarded.

A deal brokered last Friday by the governor and state congressional leaders will put the ability to sentence back in the hands of New York’s judges. It will also allow for community drug treatment as well as prison rehabilitation. While this is a victory many can claim as theirs, there is no denying that the New York hip hop community is among them.

The state would also like to implement expansions in both its community outreach and drug courts. The bill is hefty; about $50 million. But there are those who believe the price is minimal when considering the cost of incarceration and family devastation. There is also consideration for those already in prison due to the now defunct laws. Possible commuting of sentences is on the table, but the details have not been determined according to the New York Times.

With this huge victory under his belt, HSAN co-founder Russell Simmons is ready to take his Network to even larger heights, possibly on a national level.

“We have achieved a great victory for the people of New York and are inspired by the courageous leadership of Governor Patterson, Senator Smith and Assemblyman Silver. However, we must now go to work around the country to end the unjust drug laws in numerous other states and on the Federal level. This is about changing the direction in this country for a more just and fair judicial system.”

So amazingly enough, the people who are chastised for glamorizing the drug culture are the same ones who righted New York’s wrong. The men who weave these stories about back alley sales and all their horrible accoutrements shed the light needed for state lawmakers to see that these rules were not helping, but hurting their communities. These emcees may attract the ire of drug opponents far and wide, but they just made New York a fairer place to live. Who knows? They may have even found a bit of absolution of their own.

The relationship between mainstream media and the optimistic elements of hip hop is tenuous at best. Constantly being tossed into an abyss of negativity that feeds off the shootings, drug arrests and jail terms; the genre rarely finds itself basking in a positive light. Not because constructive behavior isn’t practiced by the musicians; but because that behavior isn’t always seen as news worthy.

Case in point: Saigon.

With enough buzz to jump start a tree hugger’s electric compact, the Brooklyn MC is slated to act as New York’s latest Pied Piper, leading the masses back to the cradle of hip hop civilization through his much anticipated album, The Greatest Story Never Told. He is a movement in the making. He is beyond talented. He is revered by his peers. And he has as much street cred as the law will allow; and some the law won’t. However, all of his layers have not been exposed on a grand scale.

As a co-founder of Abandoned Nation Entertainment, Saigon has not just lent his celebrity to a worthy cause. He is fighting on the front lines with a group who not only wish to entertain, but also bring social change.

The full story backs us up to the late 90s when Saigon (Uncle Sam knows him as Brian Carenard), awash in street thought, found himself behind bars. While originally charged with attempted murder, the teen was ultimately convicted of first degree assault. The mental wrestling match between his past and his future ensued as he pondered the lengthy sentence he dodged, and his future won.

He joined an in-house project known as the Resurrection Study Group and became friends with one of the other participants, Omnipotent; as well as the instructor Sharieff Clayton.

“I met Saigon in 1997. And we were, for lack of a better word, classmates in the Resurrection Program. But after a while we were teaching some of the classes. And actually classmates isn’t a bad word at all because we were learning,” Omnipotent offers.

The study group, a meeting of minds to build tools for avoiding the the pitfalls of urban life, not only cultivated productive mind-sets in the trio; it also fostered a desire for transformation. Once all three were released, they took what they accomplished inside and unleashed it on the streets of New York.

Abandoned Nation/In Arms Reach’s founders include Terrence “T-Wheels” Stevens (left photo, with Russell Simmons) and Omnipotent

The split personality of Abandoned Nation Entertainment has two very separate sides. There is the entertainment side which includes Saigon and two other up-and-comers, Rough and Atrocity. They not only pride themselves on their lyrical abilities, but also on the topics they consider. Obligatory and common elements of testosterone driven braggadocio are present, but eventually met and dominated by the emcees demands for clearer hood thought, regaining lost lives and dismissal of solely materialistic goals. These young men care for their streets and bring more thought to their care than the average rapper.

Then there is Abandoned Nation (The Foundation). It works in tandem with In Arms Reach, an organization which serves children in the New York area logistically orphaned by their parents’ incarceration.

In 2004, Saigon was introduced to Terrence “T-Wheels” Stevens at a party hosted by Russell Simmons. Mr. Stevens founded a strikingly similar non-profit called In Arms Reach in 2002. But the two had something else in common. As the recipient of a mandatory sentence born of the controversial Rockefeller drug laws in New York State, Stevens was another product of the state’s correctional machine. He was staring down the barrel of 15 to life for five ounces of cocaine when his sentence was commuted in 2001 by then Gov. George Pataki. Understanding the power of teamwork, the organizations combined, giving birth to the In Arms Reach/Abandoned Nation collaboration.

From its home on the campus of City College of New York, In Arms Reach/Abandoned Nation provides a plethora of children’s services, including creative letter-writing classes, transportation to and from correctional facilities to engender regular family visitation, and tutoring and counseling sessions. The kids visit the campus every two weeks, where pre-med students from CCNY’s Sophie Davis School of Biomedical Education tutor them. Their report cards are monitored and the program tracks their academic improvement.

Social workers are available to the program participants 24 hours a day. It’s almost like a parent-away-from-parent-program as In Arms Reach steps in to fill the empty spot left by the incarcerated guardian. In Arms Reach encourages participation from the children’s jailed parents as well as correctional facility administrations to break the cycle.

“We just want to get to the kids before they end up in jail. We were all locked up before we realized our mistakes,” says Omnipotent. “It’s about prevention and we target high risk black youth. The music is an important component because we use that to entice them. We just want to keep them from going down the same path we did.”

In Arms Reach/Abandoned Nation takes in hundreds of thousands of dollars per year, thanks to donations and the group’s celebrity connections. Omnipotent says the group is considering expanding south, and is currently looking at getting non-profit status in Atlanta.

“Saigon is part of this organization. He is the face and he brings in a lot of our donations,” he says. Omnipotent adds that the children have had the pleasure of being visited on the campus by several celebrities, including former New York Giants linebacker Carl Banks and Bill Cosby.

In almost ironic fashion, the children receiving the help are also encouraged to help. The organization suggests the children participate in community service projects ranging from donating time at geriatric facilities to working with the homeless. The idea of giving back, it believes, will develop their social awareness as well as a stronger connection to their communities.

According to its website, www.abandonednation.com, “In Arms Reach/Abandoned Nation represents a repatriation of the community of impoverished ghettos everywhere.” So as you count down the seconds until you can cop The Greatest Story Never Told, understand you will not be buying another hip hop CD. You may actually be contributing to the welfare of a child some have already counted as lost, abandoned. And all of this comes courtesy of the latest, greatest New York ex-con turned rapper. Now how’s that for layers?

– Shelby Powell

www.abandonednation.com
www.myspace.com/saigonthayardfather

Charlie Murphy would be proud.

In an interview with Plug One, Therapy, one-fifth of the ABs (or the Alias Brothers, formerly known as Asamov), quoted the “Chappelle’s Show” comedian when describing this year’s A3C Independent Hip-Hop Festival, set to take place from Thurs., April 12 to Sat., April 14.

“It’s a celebration, bitches!” says Therapy.

Brian Knott and Kevin Elphick, co-founders of Arc the Finger Records, the Atlanta-based independent hip-hop label that hosts the annual three-day event, feel the same way. Last year, 800 strong turned up for A3C — enough to officially sell out the venue. This year, Knott and Elphick plan an even bigger turn out, enough to not only sell out the venue, but piss off the fire marshal.

Given 2007’s lineup, Knott and Elphick just may be getting a call from the Atlanta Fire Department. A3C is, foremost, a local music festival — nearly a third of those performing during the event are from Atlanta. But unlike years’ past, ATF Records is flying in some of the biggest names in independent hip-hop from across the United States.

“It will be our first show that we’ve ever done on the East Coast,” says Newman, emcee for LA trio Giant Panda. Cool Calm Pete from New York, Black Milk from Detroit, Sol.illaquists of Sound from Orlando and Souls of Mischief from Oakland are some of the other cross-continental heavy-hitters performing this weekend.

“[A3C] is good for West Coast artists and, you know, artists from New York, or somewhere up northeast, to come down and be able to see what’s going on [in Atlanta],” says Newman. “And also have everybody check out what their doing.”

Because all the artists on the bill are independent, few have the budget to fund an extensive U.S. tour. A3C is an opportunity for these musicians to meet those who they have, up to this point, only admired through their headphones. “It gives cats a chance to network and build,” says Therapy, “not only with other artists but with the fans as well.”

Another reason the 2007 A3C could be the biggest yet is that it brings 30-some musicians to a single venue for only $32 over three nights. It helps that the Loft in Midtown Atlanta isn’t particularly big. “It’s just a more intimate situation, and it draws the fans in closer and it makes them feel like a part of it again, you know,” says Therapy. “Especially the disenfranchised fan that can’t seem to find anything they like on the radio.”

The 2007 A3C is also hosting a hoard of other side-show spectacles. Local beatboxer Dres tha Beatnik hosts the stage each night, and DJ Rasta Root, Rob Wonder and Dirty Digits rock the ones and twos. An exclusive preview of the documentary Wu: The Story of the Wu Tang Clan will be shown on Thursday at 6 p.m., and a before-the-party BBQ will be held Saturday at 1 p.m. at Dumpsterdive Records. (Per the A3C website: “Free food and a monsoon of cheap beer.”) Saturday will also see the “Jam on the Spot” B-boy/B-girl competition, which promises ten $50 prizes to the best breakdancers.

“It’s going to be a good vibe. My guess is there won’t be much violence; my guess is there will probably be a lot of good vibes,” says Therapy.

The A3C festival has epitomized independent hip-hop for three years running. Since its inception in 2005, it has embodied everything that fans love about the genre. Really, it’s a celebration, bitches!

– Christopher D. French

For more on A3C 2007, visit www.a3c2007.com.

February 7 would have been James Yancey’s birthday. Instead, one of hip-hop’s great producers died three days after his 32nd year on Feb. 10, 2006 and then achieved a most bittersweet triumph with two posthumous albums: The Shining and Donuts.

Who knows if J-Dilla’s name would continue to be remembered if not for the new material that continues to spring forth, from the ever-reliable Stones Throw (a reissue of Ruff Draft packed with unreleased material that’s due next month) to his many friends (Phat Kat, among others, will issue J-Dilla tracks over the next several months)? Certainly hip-hop — and popular music in general — does a poor job of remembering its fallen idols. Even the dead are subject to the same trends, peaks and valleys in popularity as the living. That’s why we celebrate Tupac Shakur and not Big Pun; and Big L and not Cowboy.

J-Dilla remains in our thoughts because his music is more relevant than ever. The future soul locus that now occupies much of the black music underground, with its mixture of heartfelt neo-soul, tentative leaps into house music and broken beat, and occasional yet unapologetic thug-ism was anticipated by J-Dilla and his village of the slum. It is important, too, that we are celebrating his birthday. Unlike Tupac and Biggie, we aren’t celebrating his death-day with magazine covers and tributaries to the moment he was slain and burst forth into the mainstream public’s conscience. We’re hailing his life and music.

You can visit Stones Throw’s website and learn more about its activities, from tribute parties and a special podcast to the aforementioned Ruff Draft. This site’s efforts are much more modest, but no less heartfelt. Below you’ll find an essay I wrote on the day I learned J Dilla passed. RIP James “Jay Dee/J Dilla” Yancey.

Photo by Rafael Rashid from the book Behind the Beat. Taken from Stones Throw’s website.

Two hours ago, an alert email from allhiphop.com landed in my Inbox, announcing that James “Jay Dee” Yancey passed away this morning. I’ve been bouncing around the web since, looking for community.

Back in 1999, Q-Tip called Slum Village the inheritors of A Tribe Called Quest’s legacy. His claim led to intense debate among hip-hop heads. How could he compare the indelible Tribe to a Detroit trio that didn’t even know how to rap? Slum Village — Jay Dee, Baatin, and T-3 — weren’t lyricists, per se. Instead, they improvised hooks, or scatted, over Jay Dee’s beats. I used to call it “scat rap” with some derision.

But now, almost a decade later, Q-Tip’s premonition rings true. There are only a handful of producers who defined the post-Tribe evolution of soulful underground hip-hop: Premier (particularly his Moment of Truth years), the Roots collective (Questlove, Scott Storch, James Poyser, and others), and Jay Dee.

Meanwhile, Fantastic Vol. 2, Slum Village’s first widely available and best known album, is considered a hip-hop classic. I’ve always had trouble with that term, mainly because it’s often applied to albums that, while bearing sonic traits that influence other artists, may not necessarily possess enough consistently great songs/themes/ideas to earn that distinction. (Lil Kim’s Hardcore and NWA’s efil4zaggaN, anyone?) Fantastic Vol. 2 isn’t one of the greatest albums of all time, but it is a very good one that has only grown in stature since its June 2000 release.

Jay Dee’s musical legacy is a complicated one. He first gained renown by producing some classic numbers for the Pharcyde (”Runnin’ Away”) and De La Soul (”Stakes Is High”), then apprenticed with Tribe, forming the Ummah production team with Q-Tip and Ali Shaheed Muhammad.

In 1996, Slum Village independently released a CD, Fantastic, that snagged them a deal with Interscope. Then, famously, the label dropped the group just before the release of Fantastic Vol. 2. The relationship yielded only one commercially-released record, the graceful “Get Dis Money” for the Office Space soundtrack. (Panda One eventually issued it on his Good Vibe label.) In 2000, Jay Dee and the Roots masterminded Common’s Like Water for Chocolate breakthrough. Jay Dee also produced one of my favorite 12-inch singles ever, Phat Kat’s “Dedication to the Suckers b/w Don’t Nobody Care About Us.”

The years following Jay Dee’s 2000 MVP year brought mixed efforts. He announced that he was leaving Slum Village, then seemingly changed his mind, saying that he was only going to produce the group. He issued a solo album, Welcome 2 Detroit, which crystallized his contradictions: the sensitive beat junkie with the same jones for thugging it out and fucking hoes that seemingly every rapper has. Some artists have embodied those opposing fantasies with aplomb, but to me Jay Dee expressed them uncomfortably, partly out of his own deficiencies as a rapper.

I have heard rumors that Jay Dee was difficult to work with, not because he was an egotistical asshole, but because he was flaky and difficult to pin down. In light of his history of medical problems, which he didn’t publicly reveal until recently (notably in a cover story for URB magazine trumpeting his Jaylib project with Madlib) such allegations (which came from reputable sources) are a poignant reminder that there are usually legitimate reasons behind anyone’s behavior, no matter how bizarre or antisocial that person’s actions may be.

Some of my favorite late-period Jay Dee records include his “Fuck the Police” single, his blazing remix of Four Tet’s “As Serious As Your Life,” the incredibly sad “Do You” track on Slum Village’s Detroit Deli, his joints on Common’s Be album, and the recent instrumental opus Donuts which, ironically, just hit stores last Tuesday. Until he passed away this morning, his long-delayed solo album The Shining was scheduled to hit the streets via BBE in June. It may now be his swan song.

One of my favorite hip-hop memories took place over five years ago at 111 Minna Gallery in San Francisco. I lived in Sacramento at the time, but often drove down to SF to network and go to nightclubs. That night, I went to go see Peanut Butter Wolf. Other DJs spun that night, too, but I can’t remember their names.

At one point, PB Wolf dropped this amazingly soulful record on the decks. It was this heavenly epiphany so indescribable, I couldn’t believe I was hearing it. It had an eerie, haunting vocal — “don’t let yourself go fall in love/…things you do” — that sounded like a reverie. After PB Wolf’s set ended, I asked him what the name of the record was. He told me it was “Fall In Love” by Slum Village.

Peace to the Stones Throw family.

Photo by B+.