Schoolly D

For weeks I’ve been agonizing over a clever, knock your Timbs off, intro to this piece. And I still got nothing. Seriously, I’m dry. It’s been a long ass year, but I don’t have to tell y’all that. In the last several months, I think I’ve spoken enough words to last me a lifetime. Who knew virutal work meetings would be so exhausting? This month you won’t be blessed with a series thoughts and opinions from E. before getting to the meat of the conversation with said hip-hop great. I’ve decied to pass the mic and let my guest do the majority of the talking. Trust me, you’ll be more interested in what he has to say. And he has much to discuss. So, without further ado, I present a conversation and history lesson with a man who needs very little introduction. Enjoy BVB’s exhange with musician, artist, and hip-hop’s original gangster, Schoolly D.

BVB: So, tell me how the Sotheby's hip-hop auction went. I read about it, I saw videos the day of, but I'm excited to have a firsthand account. How do you think it went? 

Schoolly D: I was excited. I was excited about it. I watched it live and I watched all the things that were selling and I watched my paintings go, more than what they thought they would go for it. I was surprised to find out what, like only three, maybe four of the art that was sold was created by the artists: me, Fab Freddie and Egyptian Lover. And that's all. It could have been maybe one other person, you know, and that just totally took me back to, like, I got to remember that everybody's not like me. You got people who write lyrics with other people, people who make the beats, you know what I'm saying? Some people have kind of complete machines around them because, you know, that's how most of any kind of entertainment or anything goes. Most people have a whole team around them, but I'm a complete rarity. But that whole first or second wave of hip-hop, I remember it being that we were treated like artists. I mean, we came out of avant-garde kind of music, new wave and punk funk and punk rock. It was Prince, you know what I'm saying? It was Basquiat, you know what I'm saying? So, we were looked at as artists because we came from an artist community, you know [...].  

I was going to be a recording artist and a fine artist and a sculptor. I knew that at the age of three, you know what I'm saying? But having that avenue was totally new. And the people who created that art that was sold, they looked at it as an art first. And we didn't know it was commerce, but we knew it was a voice. We knew we were doing something totally new, that nobody's ever done before. We knew that but we didn't know how big of a commerce it was going to be. I'm doing exactly what I thought I could do. I thought I could paint. I thought I could make music. I thought I could perform music. I thought I could DJ. I thought I could do film. I thought I could film compose. Those are all the things I thought I could do when I was a kid. This is how my grownup life is gonna look. But to see it, [hip-hop] should be accepted that way [...]. Looking at it, like how it's being treated now, it's not being treated as an art form. It's just a commodity. So, I'm not surprised that [in] the first and second wave that the art went like that, because in anything, the first and second wave of anything, it's just not going to find anything that beautiful ever again. 

BVB: It gets watered down a little bit. 

Schoolly D: (Laughs) A little bit?! 

BVB: A lot a bit, huh? 

Schoolly D: A lot a bit. But you know, it's sad that that's what happens, but that's what happens. But sometimes that's what has to happen because without funk and rock and all of the other mainstays of our parents and uncles, without them getting watered down a lot, you wouldn't have punk, the whole English wave, we wouldn't have Prince and we wouldn't have made the Beastie Boys, Public Enemy, you know what I'm saying? We wouldn't have Def Jam you know, so yeah. But I guess speaking of today, I guess I gave up hope. I thought something new was going to come about 15 years ago because of the computer age. But it just seemed like it just got really, really...like it just took what we did and watered it down and made it more, let's say commercial. And to hear me say that, because hardcore gangster and gangsta rap was like such a fucking no-no. It was just like, no, man, you want to be like, trust me, you want to be like "Bob MC" or Heavy D and the Boys. You don't want to go that route. And for me to stay there and for me to look at record companies and distributors and all kinds of people saying like, "Oh, you're such a cute little Black boy [...]." Somebody's gotta be fucking with your pride, n**ga, shut the fuck up. One of us gotta be Richard Pryor. 

To have it, to have what I did, what it was like, you know, I had people, they had people protesting gangster rap, hardcore. But now that's the main thing. I'm kind of laughing and crying at the same time. I'm like, HA! And for kids to still be using the style that I came up with, like you know what I'm saying? And it kind of makes me happy, but I'm still surprised, but I'm just like, HA! And then when I hear the lyrics, I go, oh man. It's not gangster or gangsta or hardcore unless you're scaring Madison Avenue, you know. When you become a part of Madison Avenue, you're part of Madison Avenue. And I hear kids say, "Yeah, well you did it when you did it and live with it." We did it for different reasons. It's like of course, after a few years, it was like, okay, alright, alright. But I had my own record label. But people who didn't, it was like people were making money. They was making money from LL. Of course LL wants to get paid. You know what I'm saying? Then it became more of a job, of course, because people took our art and made money. But we made the art first, not the money. We wasn't thinking about the money to create the art, we were thinking about the art and the art is the money. So that's the difference, I would tell kids. That was a long ass answer. 

BVB: I appreciated that though. There's no long answers. 

Schoolly D: If it was back in the eighties, that tape would've ran out. 

BVB: (Laughs) Well, thank God for technology. So, you were talking a little bit about there being no shock value. Do you think that's because there's so much of everything right now? 

Schoolly D: I know it's so easy to produce right now. It's like, you know, my grandmother who's been passed for 30 years, she can wake up right now to produce a hit rap record because when you go buy any computer or any phone or any iPad or notepad, you get a music program on there with music already in it, you understand what I'm saying? And that's the music that you hear on the radio. So, what good is that shit? [...] I remember my daughter, when she was like 13, would make these videos. And she would just go into my video files and pick out music; some music was on Garage Band and some music that I created. It's great for like home videos, but to take it into the professional arena?  

And I'm not like an old prickly, old dude that's just kinda like, rah rah rah. But like it used to be like a cool thing to say you're a producer. You know, who the fuck cares about who produces anything [now]? Apple produced those beats, motherfucker. So, it's a good thing to be in the 21st century and it's a bad thing. I think the bad thing is that it's like they made the new hip-hop artists not appreciate the hard work that went into creating all those great sounds that somebody samples and put it in the loops that you use. So, you don't have any creative input. I used to love hearing, when I went down South, hearing Luke. Boom, boom, boom. When I went out to Houston, I heard all this Southern guitar. When I went out to fucking West Coast, I heard all those fucking keyboards. I loved going up to New York and hearing all those break beats and shit. Everybody digging in crates and shit. I loved Philly cause Philly was all about the drums; hearing those fucking drum programs that people did on the 909s. And we was into house music and we'll go to Chicago just to hear good house music, come to Philly just to hear good house music, go to New York just to hear good garage and where it was produced. But now it's just kind of just like all across the board, it's like one producer. And so, yeah. 

BVB: Why do you think we don't incorporate more live instrumentation in hip-hop? 

Schoolly D: Because I'm going to say a lot of cats drank the Kool-Aid. Well, this is what happened when the disco era [came]. Before the disco era, everybody was in the band. Everybody. You couldn't play bongos, you wasn't getting no pussy. That was it (laughs). "N**gas can't even play bongo, you ain't getting no part of this pussy. You can't even shake a tambourine, motherfucker!" But when the disco era hits and Earth, Wind & Fire wasn't touring anymore, they took the stages and the discotechs and made them into dance floors. So, it was just like, huh. The whole next generation of cats didn't know how to play instruments [...]. And there was a separation because first of all, the first hip-hop records was created by bands; all the Sugar Hill shit. But then when you got away from that, the cats that were in the bands, (I'm lucky I can play more than a few instruments) they thought they was better than us [...]. And then when they came in, they didn't look at us as the same type [of artist]. If you said you were a hip-hop producer, they rolled their eyes. You know what I'm saying? They came in and said, naa, I want you to sound like the kid on James Brown. "You should do it like this." 

Miles Davis used to say, "Man, most musicians got noteitis" (laughs). You know what I'm saying? "Motherfucker, I know you can play!" But I came from a musical family. So, I just played what I call rap bass and rap guitar. And I did it myself, but then it just forced [me to learn] because [musicians] looked down on us. And it took years. It took, I don't know, ten years or so for musicians to actually listen to hip-hop producers. So, then you had that and then you had the other hip-hop [producers] saying, well, fuck it then. I'll just sample my guitars. Then the third wave of hip-hop producers [were sort of] just like, "We played instruments?" It happened that fast. It happened in ten years. All of a sudden, we forgot how to play instruments. But then you had that and then you had the other hip-hop [producers] saying, well, fuck it then. I'll just sample my guitars. Then the third wave of hip-hop producers [were sort of] just like, "We played instruments?" It happened that fast. It happened in ten years. All of a sudden, we forgot how to play instruments. But we did play instruments. And I remember, that summer, I was doing something, it was a hip-hop talk show or some shit like that. And they had me come in and they had the guitars on stage. And it was some group from New York and [one of them] was just kind of like, "What are these guitars and drums shit doing on stage? What does that got to do with hip-hop?" I swear to God I almost choked that motherfucker. I said, what?! Where do you think all those fucking sounds come from? [He answered], "I didn't know that." How the fuck can you not know that? 

How could you not want to know that? Again, like I said, cats like me are very unique because I'm just like, huh, where did that come from? Well, most people are just kind of like, "Pass the weed." I was like, pass the weed and where'd that [sound] come from? So, I think all that happened all at the same time. It just happened all at the same time. So, creativity just went straight out the fuckin window. It came in through the window, it came through the left window because we had to do what we had to do. And it was fucking awesome, but it went right out the window. Our history just went out the window. 

And I'm going to say something about history. First of all, America has a horrible relationship with history, horrible, horrible relationship as a whole. And I think if you white, and if you Black, we have totally different disregards for history. On the white side it's like, they don't want to talk about the Trail of Tears. And on the Black side, we're talking about like, what's happening tomorrow. We don't want to know. We don't study our history. It's painful, but then it's like, I don't want to talk about that. I don't want to talk about slavery, I don't want to talk about when we used to do this. I just want to talk about what's next, what's now. And the people who control our history and the people control our music and our entertainment history would have us believe [that] every new generation, every ten years, nothing happened before that. If you Black and in this country, they tell us, "Yeah, we're going to do a movie." But really [it's a movie about] a pimp and a slave. That's it. You have Black people, these kids growing up thinking that all we were were pimps and slaves. And the music [industry] is the same way. It's like, we played instruments? But the fourth wave [of hip-hop], which is like the Roots and on [was different] because those kids, they went to art schools. But still, [the industry] just cherry-picked stuff. But I remember getting some of the early stuff from Eazy-E and it was using those keyboards and stuff. And people in the Northeast laughed at that shit. And to go even deeper, Gucci Time was once my drum beat. I played that [on the drums] and people were just like, "Schoolly, people don't want to hear Black people play drums anymore." And so that's why I programmed it on my 909. It's so crazy. 

BVB: I think we move too quickly in 2020 in every aspect of life, including this. People don't take the time to go back and study their history. And I think that's important when you're an artist. 

Schoolly D: It's super important when you're an artist. It's super important. It's super important to be contemporary and progressive, but it's also so important to dig, understand and take in where you came from. 

BVB: I want to go back to the early years and the beginning of your career. You talked about not being able to fully recognize the financial impact that hip-hop would have on a larger scale, but were you able to see the kind of influence the culture was having on the world when you were in it, starting out? 

Schoolly D: I knew I was rich before I knew it was influential. I was touring mainly on the East Coast, from Boston to Florida and every now and then I did Chicago, like the first three years. So, my bank account was rolling. My records were selling in LA. My records were selling in London. My records were selling in Japan. You know what I'm saying? It was my record label, but I would go through the distributor [and] distributors would send me my money [...]. There's a withholding of information. Even with my record label, I was still collecting the money and the check. If the distributors knew that I knew that on the East Coast, that I could bypass them and go and license in London, or with Japan or France or Germany, or go to the West Coast and do work with distributors up there...it was kind of like, let's keep this information from this guy. So, I knew I was rich before I knew I was influencing people all over the world. But by the time I got back from the first tour in ‘85, ‘86 (late ‘85 or early ‘86), when I did those tours in the UK, I knew I was famous because when I came back, it was like a whole other thing. I was getting calls from, like all over the world, all of a sudden. And it was kind of just like, oh, huh, I'm famous. And then people started showing up in Philly and following me around. The Dutch filmmakers came and did Big Fun, Big City. And you know, some guys were calling me for movies. "Can I license your stuff for some movies?" And then when people started calling me like Eazy-E and Dr. Dre, just talking, and then Luke, they told me, "Dude, you're famous." 

So, I'm going to say early on in 1982, ‘83, somebody told me that the two critical words [were] “working” and “artist”. Become a working artist. I knew I was going to make money. I just didn't know I was going to be a millionaire, you know what I'm saying? I knew about art, but art is kind of just like, you know, you never know when someone's going to say that's a great artist and all of a sudden, everybody wants your shit. But I knew I could make a living at it because I just had a feeling of like, if this is going to go the way of punk, if this is going to rock and roll, sooner or later no matter what, no matter what's created in the ghetto, no matter what’s created in the trailer park, it's like Madison Avenue comes calling. 

Or if you're a Black artist and you just remain Black, white America is going to come to you and they're going to be your fans. But that's the way and it went that way so fast. I knew I had a career in music, not just music, but art. Then, you know, when Abel Ferrara called me up, that was the dream of being a film composer, you know what I'm saying? Those things happened in five years. But I think hip-hop in a whole, when I heard [what] Russell Simmons sold Def Jam for, that was the shocker. That was a shocker when he did that. Then, all of a sudden, everybody started selling. I'm not gonna say selling out, I'm just gonna say selling. Cause I don't even think they knew that, (they sold it for a hundred million) you know, they didn't know it was a billion-dollar thing. Russell Simmons didn't know it was going to be a billion dollars in four years. I don't think he would have sold Def Jam, you know what I'm saying? And I did not want to sell Schoolly D Records, I was forced into signing with Jive because distributors kept calling me like every week. Like, "We heard you're signing with Jive, so we're not going to pay you." 

So, I knew, right after Luke and those guys told me around 86', that I was becoming famous and rich. But I knew early on that I wanted to make this a lifelong career. I'm going to say artists like LL and those guys were making great fucking records. Maybe somebody told them that they could do that for five years and then take the money and open up a couple of McDonalds. They probably didn't see the money regularly, you know what I'm saying? They had the wait to say, okay, I can make a career out of this. 

BVB: Are you ever disenchanted by hip-hop, especially the industry side of things? Your art has always extended to several different outlets. So, I'm wondering if you ever thought about walking away from hip-hop because of all the bullshit. 

Schoolly D: I did in ‘93. I was just like, fuck y'all, fuck everything. I went to stay the night with my mom and she didn't know I came in the house; went to my old bedroom. And she walks in [and says], "What the hell are you doing here? I thought you was out on tour." And I was just like, ahhh, I'm giving it up. And she looked at me and said, "Really?" And, you know, she wanted me to be more of a sculptor, painter. And she wasn't really that thrilled with the news report. And I don't even know why [...]. But anyways, went and got me a couple of 40s and shit, just hanging out with some homies and shit. And they was just like, "Now that your life is over, when you moving back to the hood?" I was like, son of a bitch, motherfuckers was just waiting for me to quit?! 

I called up all those motherfuckers to buy my shit back, man. It was like, "Yeah, we'll sell it back to you for a $500 profit. Some cats sold me the shit and some of them were just like, "No! I got drum machines and shit from school [with] keyboards. I'm going to sell this for thousands of dollars when you die." Or some shit. "We're not selling." So, it was that moment and then I was talking to Chris (Schwartz) about it and [he] was just like, "Why don't you just do something new? Why don't you just come work with me?" And that's when he got his deal with Sony and he owed me some money anyway. So, it was just kind of like, let's just do a deal with Sony and see if you want to make records again. And you know, that's when I did the Welcome to America album. 

And then Abel called me. And he was just kind of like, "What do you mean you quit? What the fuck is wrong with you? I got a movie for you, come up to New York." And then it was like, that same year, I just bought all my publishing back from our lawyer and all of a sudden people started sampling me. I was like, oh my God, what the fuck was I thinking about? But as far as today, I don't spend enough time hanging around anything to get disenchanted. Like I don't spend enough time in music because I could be working on a film. I don't spend enough time with film cause I could be painting. I don't spend enough time painting because I could be [going] down to the fucking woods, and chop down a fucking tree and drag the stumps home and make lamps out of them. I don't spend enough time in that [because I'm] hanging out with my daughter. You know what I'm saying? 

And like, I don't spend enough time doing that because you know, I'm performing live. So, I don't think I spend enough time [on one thing] to get disillusioned, but I do when I go out and I hear young guys and they just like, got all this shit to say. And I'm like, now that shit is dope. And then when they send me the demo, it's stripper music. I'm like dude, what happened to all that dope shit you was talking about? "Naw, I'm scared man. Nobody might not buy it." I'm like, nobody's buying this shit this either! How's this bullshit gonna sell? You know what I mean? So, then I get disillusioned, when cats are afraid to be Black in a sense. And I tell cats, it's like this Black shit that you're doing, that's just some n**ger shit they think all Black people do: murder, kill and rape. You know what I'm saying? "Well, that's great! That's awesome! Just keep murdering, killing and raping." When you try to be KRS-One or Public Enemy or Queen Latifah, "Oh hell no, we don't want that kind of Black shit. We want the Black shit when you're killing each other. That's the n**ger shit. We want the n**ger shit." So, I get disillusioned with that part of it. I think they just misunderstand what hardcore and gangster rap was all about. And they just think that they just glorify like, you know, killing 75 Black people, raping 60 women in one song and I'm surprised that motherfuckers go for that shit. So, I get disappointed in that part. But other than that, it's just like, I don't spend enough time in one area to get really disappointed. 

BVB: I want to ask about what you think about the criticism of hip-hop at large, particularly when it comes from white audiences and peers. Historically, art has been one of the only places that Black people have been able to freely express ourselves. So, for me, it can often feel intrusive when criticism comes from people who can't fully appreciate what we're capturing through this outlet because they haven't lived the experiences. And I've heard you talk similarly about this, when you received feedback specifically about How a Black Man Feels. So, it made me wonder, how do you generally feel when Black art is evaluated by people outside of the community? 

Schoolly D: Well, I started really thinking about this a couple of years ago and I was thinking about it when I was young and it was just like, wait a minute, white people don't check with us when they bout to do some shit. Why Black people always have to check with y'all motherfuckers? It's like, do y'all justify all the movies and television shows and books and shit that y'all write, that y'all produce with murdering, robbing, raping and killing? And they say, "Oh, that's just entertainment. And [Black people are] not that deep to just make entertainment? You know what I'm saying? So, [with] that part it's like yeah, shut the fuck up. And another thing for me, I never expected anybody white to buy my music. It wasn't even considered. And then when white people bought it, the people that were my fans who weren't brown or Black like me, they appreciated the absurdity and the reality of my music and my lyrics, you know, but they was smart enough to get it. 

They wanted to hear the real story. They wanted to laugh with me, they didn't want to control it [...]. So, the early white fans [appreciated my music]. [And] some people just wanted to dance, which was cool too. And I was thinking about it and it's like, me personally, I was just expressing myself with people who knew why I said those things. It was like, now you want me to change because you want to buy it? Fuck no! Fuck you! I say a big fuck you to that shit. I don't think I have to clear myself with any white man. I don't give a fuck, you know what I'm saying?  

But there's certain things that I have taken out of my music. Like I don't say f*ggot anymore because it's just like, you know, I have friends and [some of them are gay] and you know, today, that seems really offensive. I don't beat women up in my songs, you know what I'm saying? Certain things that I said, it's like you know what, it's just kind of like that part of you has to grow up. But to not be as Black as you want to be or say the things that you want to say to the people who appreciate your music? Because the second that you change and you say, is this great? "No, that's still not good enough." Well, how about this? "No, that's still not good enough." And then, you know, you don't know who the fuck you are. You don't know who the fuck you are if you start doing that shit. I tried to do something like that when I was [on Capitol]. I used a different vocal style. They was like, you need to be more forceful and I tried that new vocal style. It was kind of like, ugh. [How a Black Man Feels] is such a good record, but some of the vocals, I didn't like myself. But so, no, I don't feel like...I couldn't give a shit if some white dude was just like, you know, you can't do that, you have to do it this way. Me personally, I couldn't give a shit. But I knew earlier on that if I said that, and once I did say that, I got blackballed a few times. But you know, I'll be 60 in a year and it's just like, I still love what I do and people still love that I love what I do. 

BVB: Control of your art and the freedom to express yourself are things that have always been really important to you. Who instilled those values in you? 

Schoolly D: My parents, you know. My mother always said that no woman can tell you how to be a man. My father said, well, and no white man could ever tell you how to be a Black man. So, it was like growing up in the sixties (I was born in ‘62), it was kinda just like, shit, it was still Jim Crow. We just got the right to vote. You can't even comprehend that. My brother was being shipped off to Vietnam. It was a lot of riots, the Black Panthers in Philly, you know what I'm saying? And we were taught not to be afraid of any other man or any other woman's opinion of you. Or, you know, my father was just like, I ain't raising no punks or no pussies. And I grew up in a neighborhood that everybody was like that, you know what I'm saying? I didn't consider anything else but that [...]. 

[My new] album was actually called Cuz That N**ga's Crazy because of Richard Pryor's album, That N**ger's Crazy. And it was being played on the radio [when I was a kid] and I saw him on television and I remember seeing him on Johnny Carson and Johnny Carson introduced this record, That N**ger's Crazy. It was a school night and my mother let me stay up. And I was just like, that's what I want to do when I grow up, mom. But I want to do that with music. And he found a way to be who he was and have people accept him. 

I was that smart and that ignorant. Ignorance in the way was kind of just like people saying [to me], “Well, you can't say that on the radio.” When I did a song called Smoke Some Kill, people wouldn't play it because I was talking about weed. I was like, wait, what? Are you kidding me? Jive's like, people are not going to play it. So, it was like, well, you know, fuck it then. If they're not going to play it, let's make it more fun. And Mr. Big Dick was the next single (laughs). But it has worked, right? It has worked for me. And I had too many people [I looked up to], whereas though it worked for them. It worked for Bootsy Collins. It worked for James Brown. It worked for George Clinton. It worked for Miles Davis. It worked for Jimi Hendrix. You know what I'm saying? You know, it worked for Moms Mabley, it worked for Flip, you know what I'm saying? It worked for Fred Sanford (Redd Foxx). Watching Sanford and Son, that was the Blackest show on television at the time. I was only into Good Times for the art cause Ernie Barnes was my man. I love the art. And Thelma. I thought J.J. was a fucking coon, I'm sorry (laughs). All you needed to do was put white gloves on that motherfucker. You know what I'm saying? I saw right through that shit. And when they killed off the dad, we knew what that shit was about. He was too Black, too strong. I wasn't into Jay, only small parts when he came in like, "Mama! It's party time!" That was enough for me. No more J.J. through the whole thing. Show Thelma's fat, beautiful brown ass. 

BVB: J.J. was corny. 

Schoolly D: Oh my God. I wasn't into [it]. I was more into Sanford and Son cause that shit was just funny. 

BVB: So, tell me about Cuz Schoolly D is Crazy. What can we expect from the new album? 

Schoolly D: Well, it took me ten years to make. Because when I started it, I didn't know [I was bipolar]. And I hate saying this because everybody's bipolar now, like everybody. "Oh yeah, I shot that motherfucker cause I'm bipolar." You know what I'm saying? [...] But I didn't know I was [bipolar], but I knew what I was that because I remember, when I was in the second or third grade, my art teacher had my mother come to school (maybe the fourth grade) and said like, you know, your son is manic depressive. And [my mother] would say, well, how do you know that? [And my teacher would say], he'll complete stuff faster than anybody in the class. Then after that you gotta watch him cause that motherfucker might burn the school down (laughs). I swear to God. And I did try. 

But anyway, you know, I remember that whole thing, but it was getting worse as I got older. So, I had to like stop for a couple of years. And then I was recording and I had like all the [Apple G5s]. And I was recording it and it sounded too [much] like I listened to the radio or internet radio. I was like, wait a minute, it sounds like everybody else shit. And then I had decided that this record was going to be a tribute to Richard Pryor's That N**ger's Crazy. So, I had to work some great jokes on the record. Then it was like, I wanted to perform each song like I used to do back in the eighties cause I want it to sound like the eighties[...]. So, it took five years and I think I recorded each song at least 20, 30 times. I performed all these songs out and I was changing my whole performance, so it took five years to get all the songs. And once I got all the songs, I had to throw away everything again, because then I was like, you know what, I'm just gonna use all my old drum machines. So, I went and got all my old drum machines and I got a crappy, old (but it wasn't too old) computer laptop, and said, I'm going to do everything outside the box and put it in this so I'm not even tempted to use anything new. 

And then fucking like people would come over like, you're recording your album on that shit? It came out fucking awesome because it was the computer. And I swear to God, the computer, she's probably just like, can we stop now? Me and Code, we never got a chance to do that top of the hill record. Like LL did, PE did, like 2 Live Crew did. You know what I'm saying? They got that one record with the cherry on top of the hill. I went off and started working with [Abel Ferrara]. And Abel was right. He was like, no record company was gonna like, you know, put out another Schoolly D record because it's too real; it's too fun, it's too real, it's too Black. So, this record is that record. A friend of mine said it's just like, you know, when I listened to it, it felt like being at Studio 54 and hearing hip-hop for the first time; that transition from whoever was djing to Kool Herc. He said that's what your record sounds like. It sounds like a transition from the disco era to the hip-hop era. But it's not stale. I'm not on my lyrics. I'm not slanging any crack or, you know, cause I know what I do. And it's real. I talk about any references to that, I talk about what it was like for me in the eighties. And I purposely had everything at least 100 BPM cause I didn't think people were dancing enough to hip-hop these days. And it was just like, I wanna make something. I wanna make some shit that people are going to dance to. So, everything is purposely 100 BPM, (between 101 and 103). 

And you know, when I said that, nobody was getting it. I had to trick Code Money. I'd just have him come over [and I’d say], give me some scratches on this beat. And he was like, what is this for? "Nothing, don't worry about it." Cause he didn't get it. Nobody got it. When I said that, it was just like, why would you want to go back and do something from the eighties? They thought it was going to sound like, "To the bridge, everybody, I'm Schoolly D!" They thought it was gonna be that, not the shit that we got. So, when it got towards the end and I told Code and everybody else what I was doing, it was still hard because it was like, I couldn't find who I wanted to master it. When it took these studios in Philly, it was still the same story, just like, "Yeah, how about we just add some beats like some from my nephew?" Man, I don't give a fuck about your nephew, n**ga, shut the fuck up. And I was talking to Chris Schwartz and he was like, why don't you just go back to Studio 4 and mix and master it. So, he gave Phil (Nicolo) a call. It was like, yeah, cause that's where you (Schoolly) did the stuff from the eighties. And so why don't you just come back there? So, I went back there. It was different. They was like, no weed being smoked, no 40s being popped. It was different. But we made it fun. We made it fun. And I got Chuck D and Ice-T. Me and Ice-T did a track and people been waiting for that shit for like years 35. 

So, me and Ice-T is on a track together, finally. It's called The Real Hardcore. And that was so easy to do. And me and Chuck D did a track together, which was so easy, you know what I'm saying? So those two tracks, you know, my daughter plays bass on one track and one was just like shit just happened organically and it sound like it's an organic record. And you know, I didn't do like the vocals that I did at the studios and like, they would sound like Stevie Wonder. So, I just hooked up my mic and you can actually hear the door is closing and opening [...]. But it became part of the song and part of the record. And if I never told anybody, when you hear that (creaking noise), that's the door itself, like some shit that I did from percussion shit. It just sounds like part of the song, so this is part of the personality. 

BVB: Yeah, but that's real. I think a lot of times albums now sound too polished and really mechanical; robotic. 

Schoolly D: Yeah. Because it's like, people forgot to tell the computer what to do. You know what I'm saying? Computers help, most people, you know. And everybody's so fucking worried, you know, everybody's worried about their vodka deal, you know what I'm saying? You know, nobody's really saying anything. It's like, "I'm worried about my vodka deal. So, I got to sound exactly like this." But I'm going to say with this record, and I've just heard the new Public Enemy record and the Cypress Hill record, you know, I'm just like, there's hope for us yet! Just having me, Public Enemy and Cypress Hill, three different styles right then and there, it's like there's hope for us yet, you know. I saw Public Enemy the other night on Steven Colbert and I'm still smiling, you know what I'm saying? It's time. 

And um, who else? I think Method Man (someone out that crew). I heard something, I don't know if it's a commercial. There's a new Wu-Tang Clan shit out. I don't know if that's new, but I heard something on a commercial for a new record and it was just like, holy shit! So, there’s hope for us because I think what people forgot is that people in their 50’s and 60’s still like music and we still like the music that we grew up to. Hip-hop was the second coming of our youth. 

BVB: It's such a lift for the culture. 

Schoolly D: It is. And Chuck said, just like they have classic rock, we got a form of classic hip-hop. And it's just like, I think what happens is it's like with Americans, everything has to be young and youthful. And I think that's just like a bunch of old dudes trying to like fuck teenagers (laughs). You know what I'm saying? I look at some of this shit on tv, sometimes I'll watch TMZ and I'll watch Harvey and the other dudes talking about how much they love these new artists. I'm like, come on, dude, y'all listen to that shit? You don't listen to that shit. Talking about, "You're so great." I'm just like, shut the fuck up Harvey. You know you don't listen to that shit. And if you do, shame on you. 

BVB: Yeah, I agree with you. Do you think once we learn to live with COVID, you'll perform? 

Schoolly D: I've done two performances and I've been asked to do some more like all over the internet, but the thing is, it's just like, I don't know. I don't know. I don't know what it sounds like on the other end, because I did like three concerts and I got mixed reviews. Like if someone has a shitty sound system, you sound shitty to them. "Schoolly, you sound shitty, you shitty motherfucker!" If somebody got a nice sound system, "Schoolly, man, you kicked that shit, homie!" So, I don't know. I mean, they wanna do some kind of virtual tour kind of thing. But you know what? I'm might just wait until next year to figure it out because you know, yeah, I just don't trust it. You know what I'm saying? Some of the stuff I’ve watched it's the same thing. Half of it was, "Man, that shit was killer." The other half was, "Man, this is bullshit." So, we'll see, you know what I mean? You know, this earth, well, we'll come up with something. We always do.