IPOD
RADIO
Dizzee Rascal
By Erin Broadley
Jun 11, 2008
It's 9:27 AM when Dizzee Rascal arrives in Houston, Texas from London. With rapper Bun B at his side, Dizzee enters a house and slides a wad of cash across a table in exchange for a pair of sunglasses customized with gangster vision. From beneath his shades he peers at the thuggish crowd in the living room. Mamma's boy. Strapped with gat. True gangster. Dizzee reads them all, seeing right through their tough exteriors.
"That was Bun B's idea," Dizzee says proudly about the new music video for his song "Where's Da G's." This theme of defending or disputing another's realness comes up often on the British emcee's third album Maths + English. "That song [is] just a bit cheeky, it looks at the whole thing about some people taking this shit too serious, like, you have to be a serial killer before you can be a rapper. Most people, they ain’t really been in no deep, deep trouble like that and they don’t need to force it for the sake of rapping. As far as the black community, all this shit looks good on TV but where does it really get us?"
It's a true to life observation from Dizzee, who five years ago, at the incredibly young age of 19, was stabbed multiple times in the chest mere weeks before the release of his debut Boy in Da Corner. That's as real as it gets. Thankfully Dizzee recovered and that year went on to win the 2003 Mercury Prize, becoming the first rapper to take home the prestigious trophy, shutting out rock giants Radiohead and Coldplay. Boy in Da Corner ushered grime music into the spotlight, with Dizzee front and center.
The night of our interview Dizzee takes the stage with a ferocity that completely upends the emcee's soft spoken demeanor seen just hours before during our conversation on the tour bus. The 23-year-old is already a master performer. SuicideGirls caught up with him after sound check at Los Angeles' El Rey Theater to talk about Maths + English, today's obsession with celebrity, and what to do when bloggers attack.
Erin Broadley: So how have things been going? Tonight’s the last night of your tour with EL-P and Busdriver.
Dizzee Rascal: Ah, it’s been good, man. All the shows have been lively. I’ve been away so long as well; it’s been a nice welcome. [Smiles] We’ve had mosh pits, circles, people break dancing…
EB:
Nice. One of the biggest criticisms of audiences in L.A. is that people don’t move during shows. They just stand there with their arms crossed. Fuckin’ move!
DR:
Yeah, exactly. Standing there just watching. We got that a bit yesterday in San Francisco. It’s one of the few places where the people are allowed to smoke weed in the venues. They were just stoned like, “Uh, what?” They were feelin’ it enough to stay throughout the whole show and cheer at the end. [Smiles] It’s been good, though.
EB:
You and EL-P haven’t come to fisticuffs yet?
DR:
[Smiles] Yeah, I’ve beat him up a few times. He’s a slag.
EB:
Maths + English came out a year ago in England but was just finally released here through Def Jux. You have your own label, Dirtee Stank, so what led to the decision to put it out with Def Jux instead of independently?
DR:
I really weren’t ready to put it out myself yet. I can’t put that kind of work in right now. It’s not my thing. Def Jux got chose ‘cause they’re an independent hip hop label that’s been successful at putting out different, left-of-center hip hop. Out of the few labels that we met, they actually got it. So that was a good start. There’s a lot of confused labels that can’t see a place for this music. If they can’t see it, they can’t see it. But that don’t mean I have to fuckin’ stop ‘cause they can’t see it.
EB:
What do you think are some of the biggest American misconceptions about grime music or what you’re doing stylistically?
DR:
I don’t think about it too hard. I’ll hear bits and bobs like, “Oh, he’s not street no more, he’s not fuckin’ underground,” or whatever the usual bullshit that every band, or every artist that don’t make the same songs as they made five years ago, gets. Whatever. You can’t argue with these bloggers. It’s not important, really. Get on with it. I refuse to make the same songs I made five years ago. They’re getting it twisted… what I should be doing, what I should be, and obviously the kind of people that try and decide that now weren’t around when I was really deep rooted in the underground. They caught onto it later. I didn’t see these kids at the raves.
EB:
It’s hard with the way Internet culture has really latched on to artists. I don’t know if there’s a sense of entitlement more in America than in England, but audiences feel like you owe them something… more.
DR:
Yeah! It’s true. It’s deep. Everyone feels like they’re a part of the music industry now. From the outside, they’re all critics. It’s crazy that it’s got to a point where I really have to be more ignorant than ever. Otherwise I won’t make no true music. You can’t satisfy them bastards, either. The one way you’re satisfied is by doing the fuck what you want.
EB:
What have you noticed the biggest similarities or differences are with fans here versus back home?
DR:
I don’t know. I’ve just had fun. There’s some ignorance still towards my accent or the fact that I’m British.
EB:
Really?
DR:
Yeah, I was on [a radio show] in New York a couple weeks ago and someone rung up like, “Yo, who cares about them overseas niggas man,” straight away… People still need to have their eyes open to it. With rap there’s still some people from the south that won’t accept the east, people from the east that won’t accept from anywhere, people from the west that don’t know what the fuck’s happening…
EB:
[Laughs] It’s interesting, too, when you have people like that guy who called in who say nobody cares yet they’re voicing their opinion so obviously they care enough.
DR:
To call the radio, yeah. [Laughs] It’s the revenge of the nerds, innit? Revenge of the pussy. The pussy’s got more voice than anything nowadays. Nerds, they run shit now.
EB:
[Laughs] Nerds run shit.
DR:
They do! All they have to do it sit behind their thing and become a god… king of the bloggers.
EB:
On this album though there are songs that deal with either defending or disputing “realness” and “authenticity”. And in the video for “Where’s Da G’s?” you are wearing the gangster vision sunglasses…
DR:
Yeah. That was Bun B’s idea for that video. Just scoping the people out…
EB:
This whole discussion about someone’s realness or authenticity, a lot of popular music -- not just rap or hip hop -- has become a cult of personality-type thing.
DR:
Right, exactly. The world’s a system of celebrities right now. Everyone wants to be famous for the sake of being famous. In the case of the 50 Cent personality or the Britney Spears or whatever, it’s not that they’re not good artists -- they are -- but it’s become more about the person. That song [is] just a bit cheeky, it looks at the whole thing about some people taking this shit too serious, like, you have to be a serial killer before you can be a rapper. Most people, they ain’t really been in no deep, deep trouble like that and they don’t need to force it for the sake of rapping. As far as the black community, all this shit looks good on TV but where does it really get us? The guns and the crack and the drug dealers and all that. It ain’t all as glamorous and fun as it looks on TV and in the songs.
EB:
Do you think this is a never-ending discussion in hip hop?
DR:
It is because there will always be a contradiction. I’ll write a song where I’ll fuckin’ say I’ll shoot you or whatever, just because it’s what I’m feeling. But as long as you’re a human being you’ll be contradicting yourself anyway. So fuck it, as long as you can be as serious as you can in the moment, if it at least feels real, that’s all I can do, innit? I’m not being preachy or self-righteous. Ain’t nothing ain’t been said before; I’m just saying it my way… You’ve got to just be real about it. I know some of the deepest guys, they’ve got feelings too.
EB:
You’re a self-described workaholic and have a lot of energy. Has it gotten harder to find new ways to say what it is you’re trying to say?
DR:
I always get worried before an album or when I have to make music. I always get scared, “Oh how am I going to come up with it all?” With this one I was like, “Aw, this shit needs to be fun. I don’t need to worry about critics or what everyone’s saying. Just have fun with it.” I wanted to make big festival bangers like “Sirens” and “Old Skool” -- massive shit. Tried to go for the stadium thing. Big things like “Flex”, it’s dancey. There are some deep moments on there but not like Boy in Da Corner or Showtime.
EB:
You’ve said that you like to leave a lot of room for your vocals but you’re often praised for your ability to have really straightforward, tight lyrics and delivery.
DR:
A lot of the music I came up listening to as far as rap or garage and all that was minimal. So I was used to emceeing over minimal tracks and just subliminally knowing when to stop when I’m making a track. As far as the tightness of the lyrics, I try and make it a bit humorous and I’m a pretty to the point person myself and I know it needs to be punchy in beginning, middle and end.
EB:
There’s nothing worse then people who try and over-mystique their music.
DR:
Exactly. Sometimes I get slack for being too simple! Especially at home and especially from underground people. A lot of people like the more difficult, more twisty-turny kind of style and I can do that all day long as well but sometimes, it depends on what song you make and it don’t need it. Sometimes I want little boys and little girls and their grandma to be able to say the whole every word for word when they’re in a club or pub or wherever.
Dizzee Rascal heads back out on tour June 27th. For more information go to www.myspace.com/dizzeerascal and www.dizzeerascal.co.uk. Buy Maths + English here.
It's 9:27 AM when Dizzee Rascal arrives in Houston, Texas from London. With rapper Bun B at his side, Dizzee enters a house and slides a wad of cash across a table in exchange for a pair of sunglasses customized with gangster vision. From beneath his shades he peers at the thuggish crowd in the living room. Mamma's boy. Strapped with gat. True gangster. Dizzee reads them all, seeing right through their tough exteriors.
"That was Bun B's idea," Dizzee says proudly about the new music video for his song "Where's Da G's." This theme of defending or disputing another's realness comes up often on the British emcee's third album Maths + English. "That song [is] just a bit cheeky, it looks at the whole thing about some people taking this shit too serious, like, you have to be a serial killer before you can be a rapper. Most people, they ain’t really been in no deep, deep trouble like that and they don’t need to force it for the sake of rapping. As far as the black community, all this shit looks good on TV but where does it really get us?"
It's a true to life observation from Dizzee, who five years ago, at the incredibly young age of 19, was stabbed multiple times in the chest mere weeks before the release of his debut Boy in Da Corner. That's as real as it gets. Thankfully Dizzee recovered and that year went on to win the 2003 Mercury Prize, becoming the first rapper to take home the prestigious trophy, shutting out rock giants Radiohead and Coldplay. Boy in Da Corner ushered grime music into the spotlight, with Dizzee front and center.
The night of our interview Dizzee takes the stage with a ferocity that completely upends the emcee's soft spoken demeanor seen just hours before during our conversation on the tour bus. The 23-year-old is already a master performer. SuicideGirls caught up with him after sound check at Los Angeles' El Rey Theater to talk about Maths + English, today's obsession with celebrity, and what to do when bloggers attack.
Dizzee Rascal heads back out on tour June 27th. For more information go to www.myspace.com/dizzeerascal and www.dizzeerascal.co.uk. Buy Maths + English here.
