Issue #005 (September 2003) Mr Lif Email this article to a friend Interview by Ozi Batla With the release of Emergency Rations, Mr Lif's instantly recognisable nasal tones and intelligent wordplay have set him apart from the majority. His defiantly conscious stance evokes the educator's poise of Chuck D, his effortless flows a less blunted Q-Tip, his choice of beats grant him a seat at the front of the class at the experimental new school. Hailing from Boston, he burst onto the scene there in 1994, winning an annual local competition for being the best upcoming talent for that year. Many of his experiences from around that time are touched on in his anthem ‘New Man Theme’. They include scraping together money for demo recordings, sleeping on floors and ultimately dropping out of university. ‘Did I make the right decision? Well my folks don't think so...’ Hopefully they have come to their senses, as Lif has gone from strength to strength, touring the US and establishing himself as one of the most conscious of his generation. His one-man show was born out of necessity. ‘I now live in California and my original DJ Fakts One lives in Boston still, so it's usually just me going from state to state with that record bag of mine...I kinda like it. Shakespeare back in the day used to show up...all the players would be there and he'd just hand out the scripts...’ At Mr Lif's shows around the country this year, you would have seen a local backing up on the turntables. In Sydney, DJ Bonez was handed Lif's well-travelled record bag to interpret, and all over the US and the rest of the world, Lif has played dozens of gigs with different DJs. It is indicative of his approach to lyrics and making music in general. ‘The only way you can translate your life experiences is to speak on them openly, so it depends on what you use your music for...at the moment it's all about the “semi-sensitive thug”, whereas my music is my therapy.’ Lif's reflective lyrics and original flows are right at home within the Def Jux family. His music is intellectual yet captivating, blending skills and content to the point of being mesmerising. Along with Aesop Rock, Slug and El P himself, he is a part of the next generation of emcees with a deep foundation in the conventional art of rhyme who then flip it with adventurous lyrics, beats and song structures. No surprise then that there is a feeling of mutual respect amongst the labelmates. ‘Basically Def Jux is running shit in the states. El P has done such a great job with the label — I am so proud of El P, as a best friend and as a business associate. The label stands for something positive — everyone is doing something very unique in their own right but there's something cohesive overall.’ Lif's take on positivity is not immediately gratifying. It is based more in the belief that hiphop can be a catalyst for radical thought than the typical ‘I say hey, you say etc.,’ approach taken by some of his contemporaries, be they mainstream or underground. It is bizarre to think that his stance sets his so far apart, given that only ten years ago there was knowledge being dropped on the regular. It was in that dynamic climate that his foundations in hiphop were laid, while at university in Boston. ‘I went to college in 93 and look at what came out: Black Moon, Enter the Stage, Blue Mind State, Enter the 36 Chambers, Midnight Marauders...then in 94: Sun Rises in the East, Come Clean Return of the Boombap, Hard to Earn, Word Life, Illmatic...it was overwhelming.’ Lif's enthusiasm is infectious, and like the heroes he rollcalls, he too can hold a party down. Despite opening his Sydney set with a blistering anti-war tirade, he flipped it with his next skit, tripping on stage and receiving a call from his mom. It was attention-grabbing and entertaining, and won over most of the audience with its innocence. Lif is all too aware of the need to balance the head with the hips — check his club-esque anthem ‘New Man Theme’ for proof. ‘Noone wants to be preached to. I'm making observations; it's a method of catharsis. I like to share that with people. I made a point after making albums as dense as I-Phantom and Emergency Rations of doing something different. The last song I made was a party song, but there's still some commentary...it's about dancing and partying to shake away the stresses of the struggle...let people bug out, then hit them with the a cappella to let people know there is a mission statement.’ From Emergency Rations to EarthCrusher, Mr Lif's mission statement is clear. Out of the conspicuous silence and embarrassing hypocrisies of hiphop 2003, Lif speaks from an unswervingly sane perspective with a voice that represents a large and mostly unheard sector of US society. From outside it is difficult to comprehend the pressure of conformity in modern day USA. ‘It's a scary time, people have called the Def Jux office and slandered me...there's a couple of crazy motherfuckers who think George Bush is Jesus. But what I mostly get is a couple of hundred people a show who seem appreciative. That far outweighs a couple of loonies who think the government is actually working for the people. I've heard that the American government put me on a list of artists that they don't want speaking out against the war, but fuck 'em. It's my right to speak and I'll make plenty more songs providing commentary about what I feel is going on.’ After listening to Lif's observations in rhyme, the fact that more emcees are not speaking their mind is all the more ridiculous. The million untold stories that hiphop opened for us are now in their tens of millions, with a million more headz on top of that — should we be asking ‘What happened?’ We are yet to hear Paris' new album Sonic Jihad, PE are off the map temporarily, Sage Francis is — well, underground...most of the mainstream stay heavily coded. Mr Lif is not totally pessimistic about that main game. ‘On the major label circuit, Nas is holding it down. I Can is a powerful image of a positive black man, empowering kids of all backgrounds in a time that is especially dogmatic — corporations targeting young minds with logo recognition and product consumption. I tip my hat to Nas, he's the rapper who made it all make sense in 94.’ And there's still a glimmer of hope if even one popular figure with integrity stays positive. For Lif and his associates, even starting to reach an audience like Nas' means touring North America and beyond with their record bags. Lif's one-man show is a play on the EveryMan, or EveryPerson, bettersaid. Maintaining empathy with his audience is as crucial as the complex message of unity itself. It is a strong message, but ideally it will hit a wide audience. ‘Touring, I wish I saw more diversity, in terms of colour but also gender. My music seems to attract a lot of males still. It sometimes feels like the black artist is fading into obscurity on the underground tip. Maybe because I'm always touring with El and RJ and I'm the only black artist. Same with the audiences, but as we get more press, we get more diversity. I got some publicity in some mags that a read mostly by an audience of colour (XXL, Vibe), and I've got some recognition from that, which is important. I don't want to feel like my music alienates anyone, and I don't want to have to make a song about relationships to get women to shows.’ Hopefully the audience for Mr Lif's original and skilful music will continue to grow, and as it does, more people may click to his ultimately unifying message. Based in the raw politics of the early 90s, his content is balanced with a very 21st century appreciation of the hook. His sense of urgency in the face of growing chaos and discontent is very real, but is comfortably supported by his head nodding flow. And in the end, even if his message fails to reach us, we can still dance to it in the rubble of modern life.