# data[].attributes.headline
Before Pun Went Platinum: The Unsung History of New York Latinx Rap

# data[].attributes.subject
Before Pun Went Platinum: The Unsung History of New York Latinx Rap

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
By now, any hip-hop fan worth their kicks ought to know where this music comes from. But for the uninitiated (or those too young to remember whenlocal crew Boogie Down Productions heralded it in song), the South Bronx invented a genre that became a movement that became the biggest sound in the known world. Even the Google Doodle people recognize DJ Kool Herc's August 11, 1973 "Back to School Jam" at 1520 Sedgwick Avenue as the birthplace of hip-hop. But the real story begins years before that landmark event. In the Bronx (as well as upper Manhattan and other outer boroughs), white flight to the suburbs, a dearth of economic opportunity, and the effective ghettoization of Black and Latinx New Yorkers from the 1960s into the 1970s left the city's neediest communities in dire straits. Street gangs largely organized around ethnic and racial lines engaged in territorial battles. Fights between rival groups were typically bloody, and the violence limited the ability of young Black and brown people to between - or leave - these neighborhoods.

Following a particularly violent series of incidents that led to the 1971 murder of Cornell "Black Benjie" Benjamin, a prominent Puerto Rican leader in the socialist-minded gangGhetto Brothers, a peace meeting was held at the Boys Club on Hoe Avenue in the Bronx. And while it certainly didn't put an end to violence in the city, the multi-gang treaty that emerged from this unprecedented gathering allowed for something like the Back to School Jam to be possible. That party, and other similar uptown functions, brought together both Black and Latinx gang members along with their friends, siblings, and cousins. An attendee of the event, local DJ Luis Cedeño aligned with his friend Grandmaster Caz and formed the Mighty Force crew. Half Cuban and half Puerto Rican, he became Disco Wiz, the first Latin DJ in hip-hop.

Despite the undeniable history of Latinx contributions to hip-hop, the visibility of Latinx people in the 1980s NYC hip-hop scene was surprisingly limited. Prince Whipper Whip and Ruby Dee - both vocal members of Grandwizard Theodore's seminal Fantastic Five - represented with pride at the start of the decade on 1980's seminal single "Can I Get A Soul Clap." DJ Charlie Chase of the Cold Crush Brothers would regularly infuse the sounds of Latin music into his routines and later on his vital WBLS radio broadcasts - though his most visible contributions to Charlie Ahearn's 1983 rap film Wild Style and its soundtrack were about scratches, not salsa.

Many of the original crews splintered (as was the case of the Treacherous Three's Kool Moe Dee), fizzled out, or were supplanted by comparatively newer acts like Run-D.M.C. (Disco Wiz, tragically, was charged with attempted murder in 1978. He spent four and a half years behind bars and lost much-needed momentum at a critical point in hip-hop history.) With known roots in the gang known as the Black Spades, Afrika Bambaataa and Soulsonic Force pushed a more Afrocentric vision of the genre via the standout singles "Looking For The Perfect Beat" and "Planet Rock" (though his Universal Zulu Nation organization did include Latinx members, most notably on the breakdancing side). Their takeover meant that the public face of hip-hop often looked exclusively Black, especially to white outsiders.

Nonetheless, in these early stages, as the genre began to grow beyond the confines of block parties and public park jams, Latinx people naturally remained an essential part of the listenership and support network even if they weren't represented by the prevailing artists of the period. As a member of the Fat Boys, Puerto Rican emcee Prince Markie Dee served as one of the few exceptions- though the Brooklyn group's massive crossover singles with the Beach Boys and Chubby Checker didn't exactly play up his background. Still, the sound of hip-hop boomed through the streets of New York City, especially in neighborhoods where Black and Latinx residents lived.

As the 1980s transitioned into the 1990s, rappers Kid Frost and Mellow Man Ace began to establish themselves in Los Angeles with their respective albums Hispanic Causing Panic and Escape From Havana. Regrettably, the coastal rivalries between East and West - beef that was sometimes complicated by gang affiliations - tended to silo these artists and their peers' potential for national recognition. Though likely unintentional, Gerardo's 1990 Billboard Hot 100 charting hit "Rico Suave" slighted these sincere and street-wise contributions to the hip-hop conversation with Spanglish-reinforced stereotypes. Compared to his prior food-based singles, comedian Weird Al Yankovic's 1992 parody version "Taco Grande" felt less like a tribute than it did an outright insult. Even as Cypress Hill proved with their multi-platinum 1991 eponymous LP and its even-more-successful 1993 follow-up Black Sunday that mainstream acceptance for non-novelty Latinx hip-hop artistry was in fact possible, New York lacked a comparable parallel.

Now a solo artist moving past the novelty of the Fat Boys' Disorderlies-era peak, Prince Markie Dee dropped the aptly titled Free as his 1992 debut. Though not shying away from his heritage, his savvy rebrand as the overweight lover type with a thuggish streak defined both that album and its 1995 successor, Love Daddy. Around the same time as Free, Afro-Latinx rapper Chino XL was only just starting to make some noise as half of Art of Origin with Rick Rubin's post-Def Jam sub-imprint, Ill Labels, within American Recordings. Meanwhile, a Queens-based duo called the Beatnuts had begun making moves behind the boards. Comprised of JuJu, who is Dominican, and Psycho Les, who is Colombian, the pair would eventually drop a project of their own. But their production touched two incredibly important recordings of the time which, while not tremendous sales successes, set the stage for the decade's eventual platinum-certified Latin rap superstar, Big Pun.

The Beatnuts' rugged rhythm behind "This Shit Is Real" sits on the back half of Fat Joe Da Gangsta's 1993 debut Represent for the Sony Music-acquired Relativity imprint. With lyrics that affirm both his South Bronx bonafides and his Puerto Rican heritage, the track showcases the then-23-year-old Diggin' in The Crates rapper's raw and profane style (as does the rest of the largely Diamond D-helmed album). His rhymes across Represent exist as a darker and more youthful yang to Prince Markie Dee's contemporaneous pop-wise yin, though the future Terror Squad majordomo certainly wasn't opposed to hollering at the ladies on "Shorty Gotta Fat Ass."

Though Represent didn't make big waves on the Billboard 200, the single "Flow Joe" charted on the Hot 100, peaking at No. 82. If nothing else, it reflected a public appetite for the kind of hardcore hip-hop Joe was slinging. Indeed, New York was flush with like-minded, street-oriented music. 1993 gave us albums like Onyx's Bacdafucup, Black Moon's Enta da Stage, and the Wu-Tang Clan's Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers). But Represent refocused things on the reality of the city's Black and Latinx cohabitation and the ways in which the various cultures within these communities - and their criminally minded subsets - were inextricably linked. That would prove a hallmark of Joe's subsequent, and more commercially successful, recordings.

To a lesser extreme, Puerto Rican and Cuban rapper Kurious had also seen some success when he threw his Harlem-worn cap into the ring the year prior, in 1992, with another Beatnuts production. Released as part of a partnership between Columbia Records and Hoppoh, the imprint of DJ Bobbito and 3rd Bass member Pete Nice (an auspicious pair), his "Walk Like a Duck" single talks smack from the block the way only someone from the block can. With a jazz-flecked beat closer to Prince Paul than RZA, he made a good first impression ahead of the following year's A Constipated Monkey. Dropping mere months ahead of his labelmate Nas's Illmatic, Kurious's full-length debut owes more to the Beatnuts than Fat Joe's Represent did. There's a lyrical whimsy in his rhyming style, well-suited for a jokester who can also out-rap anyone in his immediate vicinity. Accessible without compromising his authenticity, "I'm Kurious" and "Uptown Shit" swung with the best of what appeared on the radio at the time, though A Constipated Monkey couldn't quite get to that RIAA gold threshold.

Nonetheless, when Big Pun emerged just a couple of years later on Fat Joe's Jealous One's Envy standout "Watch Out," it was hard not to tell where he came from in the hip-hop tradition. Inheriting the labor of his immediate predecessors, his proprietary blend of innately gifted humor and hood-hardened heft echoed Kurious's and Fat Joe's respective skill sets - as well as their commitment towearing their ethnic pride on their sleeves.In subsequent decades, the Latinx presence in hip-hop continued to bloom. Reggaeton would become a movement of its own in the 2000s, and Latin trap made such an indelible dent in streaming in the 2010s that even English-speaking superstars would enlist their talents to get a piece. But make no mistake: The Latinx community was a part of New York City hip-hop from the start.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Before Pun Went Platinum: The Unsung History of New York Latinx Rap

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
By now, any hip-hop fan worth their kicks ought to know where this music comes from. But for the uninitiated (or those too young to remember whenlocal crew Boogie Down Productions heralded it in song), the South Bronx invented a genre that became a movement that became the biggest sound in the known world.

# data[].attributes.headline
3 Kings: Diddy, Dr. Dre, Jay-Z, and Hip-Hop’s Multibillion-Dollar Rise

# data[].attributes.subject
3 Kings: Diddy, Dr. Dre, Jay-Z, and Hip-Hop’s Multibillion-Dollar Rise

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
Zack O'Malley Greenburg. Little, Brown, $28 (320p) ISBN 978-0-316-31653-8

More By and About This Author

Greenburg, a media and entertainment editor at Forbes who focused on the business success of Jay-Z in his previous book, Empire State of Mind, here widens his scope for a detailed look at the rise of the financial empires built by Jay-Z and his hip-hop contemporaries Diddy and Dr. Dre. Incorporating interviews with such early hip-hop pioneers as Fab 5 Freddy and Starski, as well as many of his subjects' current business partners, Greenburg follows the growth of hip-hop from New York City's "dysfunctional housing projects" in the 1960s and 1970s to Diddy's Revolt network, which brought hip-hop "to fifty-million people between cable, Web, and mobile." Greenburg provides sharp looks at the intricate ways in which Diddy, "the flashy impresario"; Jay-Z, "the brainy lyricist"; and Dre, "the quiet perfectionist..obsessed with sound quality" parlayed their unique skills into hugely successful business deals, such as Dre's cofounding of an electronics company, Beats, that Apple bought in 2014 for $3 billion, and Jay-Z's investment in the NBA's Brooklyn Nets. It's an excellent look at hip-hop that combines cultural and financial history to show what Greenburg, referencing rapper KRS-One, calls "the hip-hopitization of corporate America." (Mar.)

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Nonfiction Book Review: 3 Kings: Diddy, Dr. Dre, Jay-Z, and Hip-Hop's Multibillion-Dollar Rise by Zack O'Malley Greenburg. Little, Brown, $28 (320p) ISBN 978-0-316-31653-8

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Zack O'Malley Greenburg. Little, Brown, $28 (320p) ISBN 978-0-316-31653-8 More By and About This Author Greenburg, a media and entertainment editor at Forbes who focused on the business success of Jay-Z in his previous book, Empire State of Mind, here widens his scope for a detailed look at the rise of the financial empires built by Jay-Z and his hip-hop contemporaries Diddy and Dr. Dre.

# data[].attributes.headline
Founding Fathers: The Untold Story of Hip Hop

# data[].attributes.subject
Founding Fathers: The Untold Story of Hip Hop

# data[].attributes.headline
3 Kings: Diddy, Dr. Dre, Jay-Z, and Hip-Hop's Multibillion-Dollar Rise

# data[].attributes.subject
3 Kings: Diddy, Dr. Dre, Jay-Z, and Hip-Hop's Multibillion-Dollar Rise

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
Founding Fathers: The Untold Story of Hip Hop

More

A great documentary that showcases the major contributor to the birth of Hip-Hop - the DJ.
A must-watch for those who really want to know the history of the art form.

More

An attempt at something comprehensive. Includes experimental, animation and short film work alongside features from early cinema through current releases....

Rap and Hip Hop aren't only two genres of music but they are a culture and a way of life...

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Founding Fathers: The Untold Story of Hip Hop (2012)

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Unsung DJs who contributed to the foundational principals of the music known today as Hip Hop. This documentary transports you back to the early underground disco days of the streets and parks throughout New York City. Narrated by Chuck D, with plenty of primary interviews and slammin' beats.

# data[].attributes.headline
Un-rapping the hip-hop scene in Syracuse

# data[].attributes.subject
Un-rapping the hip-hop scene in Syracuse

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
There's a stigma to being a Syracuse rapper that Tosheem Stroman says is hard to shake.

"If you're in Syracuse because it's small, they look at it as you're not really a real rapper," the 24-year-old Stroman said.

With the exception of an early childhood connection to Post Malone who was born here, Syracuse has not made much of a mark on the hip-hop musical map. Hip-hop is one of the most popular genres in the music industry, representing more than 21 percent of all music consumption, according to Statista.

So local rappers like Stroman are soldiering on by booking studio time, promoting live shows and pushing out their tracks online - all in hopes of being discovered.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Un-rapping the hip-hop scene in Syracuse

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
There's a stigma to being a Syracuse rapper that Tosheem Stroman says is hard to shake. "If you're in Syracuse because it's small, they look at it as you're not really a real rapper," the 24-year-old Stroman said.

# data[].attributes.headline
Why hip-hop in Syracuse gets an unfair rap

# data[].attributes.subject
Why hip-hop in Syracuse gets an unfair rap

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
2013-01-30-mjg-Fusion4.JPG

UncleLilJohn takes the stage at Club Fusion in North Syracuse
(Photo by Mike Greenlar | mgreenlar@syracuse.com)
About a hundred feet off Route 11 in North Syracuse sits a bland building with black tinted windows and an ominous façade. The dark, one-story joint is Club Fusion, one of a small handful of below-the-radar havens for underground hip-hop in Syracuse.

On a Friday night in January, the club appears closed, save for a few young men in gray hoodies smoking cigarettes in the parking lot. Outside, there's no noise, no flashing lights and no marquee announcing the evening's lineup.

But inside the dim showroom the air crackles with the bone-shaking bass and piercing lyrics of Syracuse MCs.

Roughly 50 people - mostly young men - packed into the sweaty club to celebrate hip-hop guru UncleLilJohn's 28 th birthday on Jan. 18. Many, UncleLilJohn said, came from Brewerton, Liverpool or North Syracuse. Only a few came from the city.

UncleLilJohn is vague about his own roots.

"I've lived everywhere, man," he said. "But I was born here and I'll die here."

The crowd of flat-brim-topped kids in basketball jerseys, over-sized Polos and baggy T-shirts wedged in around a shallow stage bustling with rappers. On hand Friday were artists like Ty Dolla, Mickey Main and Y.E. If you haven't heard these names before, don't worry, you're not alone.

Live hip-hop shows like this are rare in Syracuse because most venues, for whatever reason, book little to no hip-hop. UncleLilJohn says this is because hip-hop has an undeserved reputation for violence and unruliness.

"Most places don't want us," the meaty 28-year-old barked between performances, his
voice worn and his brow sweaty. In addition to performing and hosting the showcases, he books most hip-hop shows at the club. "Sure, there are some guys who bring trouble, but we don't book them. These cats are part street, but they're musicians first."
On the airwaves
On the weekends, UncleLilJohn and Mickey Main host an hour-long hip-hop radio show called "Syracuse Locals" on 95.3 FM - a Christian station whose weekend programming is a hodgepodge of eclectic music. The show is the only local hip-hop program in the area.

Until last spring, Z89 hosted a Sunday night show called "Off the Hook" with DJ R Source. The show went on "hiatus" in May and its return is "very uncertain," R Source said.

Today, hip-hop can be heard on a number of radio station's in Syracuse (even

has adopted Macklemore's "Thrift Shop"). It's seeped into our social fabric via television, movies and even the

, which have multiple categories for hip-hop and rap. It's one of the most commercially viable genres in the music industry-Jay-Z and Kanye West's 2010 album "Watch the Throne" has sold more than 1.5 million copies since its 2011 summer release.

But on a local level, hip-hop is barely surviving.

"We want to put 315 on the map," UncleLilJohn said. "This city isn't known for hip-hop. We're going to change that."
A dearth of local venues
Adam Gold is a local musician with a unique perspective on the scene. The 29-year-old SU alum plays keys and bass with the funk / hip-hop trio Sophistafunk. He also owns Funk 'N Waffles, another of the few venues that consistently books local hip-hop. Gold says shows at the waffle and funk joint are extremely well attended because the market isn't being filled by anyone else.

"We have to put extra staff on whenever we have a rap show, but not because it's rowdy," Gold said. "Mainly because it's so busy. A lot of people show up, and that's a sign that there's a need for stuff like this in Syracuse."

Gold notes, however, that Funk 'N Waffles doesn't serve alcohol, which helps minimize trouble at any show.

"If someone's drunk we don't even let them in," he said. "It's more a liability issue than anything."

But at Club Fusion, the bar serves cheap bottled beer and plastic-cupped cocktails to rappers and revelers alike. Many of the MCs prefer to perform only after imbibing for a few hours.

"Is everyone as drunk as I am?" shouted Mickey Main from onstage. The crowd responded with a smattering of hollers and applause. Despite the flowing booze, Fusion owner Sam Sposato said she never has trouble at hip-hop shows.

"These are good kids, and I've never needed extra security or anything" Sposato said. "I don't do DJs because they sometimes bring in a bad crowds, but these guys just want to come have fun."

The hip-hop events at Fusion provide an opportunity for local rhymers to showcase original material. UncleLilJohn invites anyone brave enough to take the stage to test their material in front of a supportive audience of fellow artists and fans. But it's hardly a profitable endeavor for the musicians.

"They pay me to use the room and my sound guy," Sposato said. "They don't make a dime."

While Fusion and Funk 'N Waffles seek out hip-hop, most places don't. Most downtown establishments only host live music once or twice a week, and it's almost never rap.

"It comes down to the root of all evil: money," said Langston Masingale, who helms hip-hop group
The Goonies
along with Peter Cappelli. The two formed the group seven years ago, and used to play regular gigs at the now defunct Half Penny Pub in Armory Square. Despite releasing an album in December, it's been months since they've played a live show, and not for lack of trying.

"There's less live music in general in this city than there was five years ago because things are tight. With the exception of places like Dinosaur and Shifty's, few clubs are bringing in nightly music."
How to make hip-hop work in Cuse
It might seem that the best way to make it as a hip hop artist in Syracuse would be to leave Syracuse. Like many locals, rapper Caylon Newby, a.k.a. C-Nube, has had ample opportunities to leave and pursue his hip-hop dream. He's recorded albums in Phoenix and Atlanta and had a record deal offer in Massachusetts, he says, and he has frequent gigs in his hometown London, Ohio. But despite the hurdles in the Salt City, C-Nube stays.

"I'd rather struggle than be a quitter," C-Nube said during an interview at SubCat Studios, where he does some recording. "Quitting is easy. Trying is hard."

His primary reasons for staying local include an 11-year-old daughter and a fiancée. But, he says, Syracuse is a tough town to make it as a rapper.

"I do shows in Ohio, Buffalo, Albany and Rochester," he said. "But Syracuse... there's not much for hip-hop in Syracuse."

With limited options for live performance, most local artists rely on studio work and online promotion. But the most persistent musicians have found ways of getting in front of a crowd.

Brian Freeland, a.k.a. World Be Free, teamed up with SU to record "We Got This," the theme song for men's basketball games. He used the biggest stage in Syracuse to promote his music: the Dome. His lyrics are clean, tight and highlight stars like Brandon Triche and C.J. Fair.

Rapper Michael Heagerty, better known as "ToTs!", unearthed a bizarre niche to fuel his success: he raps about potatoes. In the last few years he's played some of the area's biggest stages - including Taste of Syracuse and the Buffalo Wingfest - and downtown joints like Al's Wine and Whiskey.

On Feb. 26, he will play with Los Angeles rapper Murs at the Westcott Theater. By signing on to open for Murs, ToTs! ensured his music would be heard by Warner Brothers - Murs' label.

According to ToTs!, getting live gigs in Syracuse comes down to marketing, branding and creating your own opportunities.

"ToTs! is a brand," he said. "And it's a good brand. I've built a huge network in Syracuse and now, people bring shows to me. Everyone wants to see a guy who raps about potatoes."

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Why hip-hop in Syracuse gets an unfair rap

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
2013-01-30-mjg-Fusion4.JPG UncleLilJohn takes the stage at Club Fusion in North Syracuse (Photo by Mike Greenlar | mgreenlar@syracuse.com) About a hundred feet off Route 11 in North Syracuse sits a bland building with black tinted windows and an ominous façade. The dark, one-story joint is Club Fusion, one of a small handful of below-the-radar havens for underground hip-hop in Syracuse.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Create a new document and edit with others at the same time -- from your computer, phone or tablet. Get stuff done with or without an internet connection. Use Docs to edit Word files. Free from Google.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Create a new document and edit with others at the same time -- from your computer, phone or tablet. Get stuff done with or without an internet connection. Use Docs to edit Word files. Free from Google.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Create a new document and edit with others at the same time -- from your computer, phone or tablet. Get stuff done with or without an internet connection. Use Docs to edit Word files. Free from Google.