Zion I takes its underground hip hop to the people
by Joe Tarr
If you don't know much about hip hop or rap, there's one thing that fans will be quick to inform you: hip hop and rap (aka, gangsta, thug) are two different types of music.
They have the same roots and stylistically aren't all that different, but the schism between the two genres' fans is vast. Although there are things about so-called gangsta rap that trouble MC Zion—of the underground Oakland hip hop act Zion I—he would rather dispense with the labels that have come to define the music he loves.
"When I was a teen, it didn't really matter what the sound was. We listened to KRS-One and Luke Skywalker would be the next thing we put in. It was all hip hop music. Now you've got one group, mostly college kids and suburban kids, and then you've got straight ghetto thug. It's all music of experience. It's all hip hop. I listen to music.
"I think the difference is people with a little bit of money or the college kids, they have more time on their hands to vibe off life and philosophize about why they're here. People who don't have money, their main concern is survival. They're most victim to commercialism. They don't have time to search out alternatives. College kids are expanding their minds."
Zion I also includes producer Amp Live and DJ K Genius. Zion met Amp Live studying at Atlanta's Morehouse College in 1995. The two formed a group that was quickly signed by Tommy Boy Records. But they signed a bad contract, which gave them little artistic control. After making several recordings that the label wasn't happy with, the group disbanded, without ever having a CD released. The experience soured Amp Live and Zion on the music industry and major labels.
"[Major labels] don't have no love for you. It's just business. When you're doing something with your soul and your existence depends on it, it's hard to have somebody over you," he says. "A lot of underground artists are broke. But you get to do what you want."
But Zion and Amp didn't give up. In 1997, they formed Zion I and released Mind Over Matter in 2000. It was a refreshing recording, combining elements of drum and bass, funk, disco and electronica with hip hop. Their sophomore record, Deep Water Slang, is due out this May.
The group has become one of the leaders of the underground hip hop movement. But being lumped into genres and categories has its limitations. As the movement has grown, it's become more insular and protective. "Right after that, there's all these rules on hip hop. You can't do this, you can't do that," Zion says. "Then it was, like, it's all white. And almost these borders put around it to protect it."
Of course, it's easy to see why many hip-hop artists try to distance themselves from the thug image. Those artists rap almost exclusively about violence, crime and drugs, and there's a strong misogynistic tone throughout.
"To me a thug is a way of being non-conformist....But I don't think people look at it like that. For most people it's the cool shit to be for the moment. I don't know what it's doing for the community.
"Dave from De La Soul told me something really interesting. He said, 'Man, the government is scared of thugs. You've got thugs in every city. If all these thugs got together, that'd be a serious force.' When he said that, I said, 'Damn that's a trip.'"
The thug image has had its repercussions on both genres. In some places, it can make it difficult for hip-hop acts to get live gigs. National acts come through only infrequently, and there are few places where local hip hop groups can perform. (Zion I is the first hip-hop act to play at Blue Cats.) But it's a standard that isn't applied to bluegrass or country music—genres that can be every bit as violent and misogynistic as rap.
"People have stereotypes of black culture. People get intimidated. They think, 'I'm going to smack you up, I've got my gun.' Of course, there are a lot of people out there who portray that," he says.
But the commercial and cultural divisions also make it difficult for hip hop to reach a wider audience.
"I think we reach the audience we're supposed to reach. But I'd like to reach more people of color, minorities, Latinos. Mostly when you travel around, the crowd is 90 percent white. When we don't have a crowd like that it's surprising....It's kind of like jazz in a way—your own people don't support what's going on. It's like, 'damn, what's it all about?'"
March 7, 2002 * Vol. 12, No. 10
© 2002 Metro Pulse
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