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Pharoahe Monch is relaxed; he sits in a glass box of an office, on the sixth floor of his label’s London HQ, and offers a warm handshake. He’s decked out in a loose-fitting Adidas tracksuit and flip-flops; the man looks like he’s just returned from a morning swim in some wonderful lake, at the end of a path that begins at the end of a magical garden. Every time he smiles it’s genuine: a full day of promotional interviews is lined up before him, but right now, with the clock yet to strike midday, he’s in good spirits. His eyes sparkle and his tone is gentle.
Born Troy Donald Jamerson in 1972, and raised in New York, Pharoahe Monch gained his rap name in the playground – he once had a particularly bad haircut, which classmates deemed comparable to a chimpanzee’s scruffy look, and the subsequently spawned nickname ‘Mon Chi Chi’ eventually shortened itself to today’s ‘Monch’; ‘Pharoahe’ stems from a period when he was studying Egypt, funnily enough. Following three LPs with the influential rap group Organized Konfusion, Pharoahe Monch went solo with 1999’s Internal Affairs; it spawned a massive worldwide hit in the shape of ‘Simon Says’ (you know: dur dur dur dur… get the fuck up…), but little else that the rapper touched turned to gold commercially, despite positive press from the critics. Until now, potentially.
Some eight years after that well-received debut, Pharoahe Monch is back with his second solo album, Desire. A velvety, soulful affair, the LP mixes Curtis Mayfield with OutKast and adds liberal dashes of Pharoahe Monch’s own unique lyrical delivery. It feels immediately familiar – old in places, even – yet retains a freshness that few contemporary hip-hop albums in 2007 can mirror. It’s fun, first and foremost, but also explores themes of politics and love gone horribly awry, as well as focusing on the threat of gun crime in the US and beyond. It is a serious piece of work, albeit one with a heart of gold and a decent swagger in its stride.
It’s a summer hit in waiting, for sure…
Hey sir, how are you?
Cool, cool. Sit down, man.
Cheers. Let’s talk Desire, because it’s been a long time coming…
Shit, who are you telling? Damn. The actual recording for the album was finished only nine months ago – it’s not a black and white question, though, because some of the tracks I did a while ago. ‘Body Baby’ I did four years ago. But in the last era of producing this record, I was always like, “How about we add some tambourine?” You know what I mean? I can’t say that it took four years to produce, even though… You know what I mean? I like to create that way, to come back to songs a lot. If you’ve got a lot of time, you might as well utilise it. I write cinematically – sometimes I play characters in songs, or change my voice up. I pretty much don’t view the whole shit in the same way that your average hip-hop artist would, so to speak.
So the delay in Desire’s release – it was due out last year, originally – has only made it better?
It’s a beautiful thing, having time. I look at songs like scripts – the more time I have, the more space I have to direct things. Like, this bit’s too long, let’s take it out. Or, instead of having Talib Kweli doing the narration, how about we get Mos Def? Let’s change it, because there’s time to do that. But I don’t think I’ll have so much time next time.
Was the tug-of-warring between labels the main reason for the record’s delayed release? I heard that Shady Records were interested, but then someone else came in, et cetera et cetera, and now it’s on Island here…
The hold-up, the hiatus, was of course down to the label situation. Rawkus (who released Internal Affairs) was absorbed, taken over, and lost their distribution deal. That was two-and-a-half to three years in the making, and then when I got to Geffen, they liked some of the songs but not all of the songs. They were pretty unsure about what they wanted to do with me. I don’t think labels in general know what they want these days – I think they’re very confused. The way the industry is headed I can see why they’re confused, but they did it to themselves, really, by hiring and not developing artists… you know what I mean? Labels have contributed to hip-hop’s short shelf life, as trendy as it is, and have lent to its demise. I mean, Rawkus was part of an incredible period in music, in the late ‘90s, but how long could that have lasted? The distribution channels are now controlled by MCA, so of course there’s an MCA influence. At Geffen there’s a Geffen influence… we’re not talking musical taste either, but a need to sell more records. What does selling more records mean? I think, for me, that was the problem: just what does selling more records mean? Does it mean doing a collaboration with… I dunno…
Pick a pop artist… Justin Timberlake.
Yeah, Justin Timberlake. Any pop artist, for your single… it’s funny you mention Justin, though, ‘cause I have done a song with him. But, you know, we’re going to get The Neptunes… and Will.i.am is gonna write the song… and…
Basically you’re bothered at labels taking a substantial degree of control – of quality control, essentially – away from their artists…
Right. Artists are shaped into something the label wanted to begin with, but you can’t fool underground hip-hop fans. I don’t think you can even fool your average consumer. I mean, you can fool the gullible…
Those that are interested in their quick-fix hits – those sorts of collaborations, I guess – are generally happy to accept what they’re spoon fed…
Yeah. I always see the honesty in songs, whether they’re cheesy or whatever. I think you can make an honest, cheesy song, and it can be good. You can like it. But for me, I feel that if something’s not honest then it immediately shows up. You can read it right off – I wear my emotions on my sleeve, and it’s hard for me to fake what I’m feeling.
Do you think that the main players at the commercial end of hip-hop play up to the rather more negative stereotypes of the genre a little too much, then? The artists who are tailored to appeal to an existing audience base, regardless of their own backgrounds and whether they’ve the experience to be rapping about, well, whatever…
To a certain degree. I think hip-hop is still trendy, and what happens is that there’s a genuine feel at first… but then you get a bunch of people trying to replicate that, over and over. It becomes redundant, and that’s the problem with it. I don’t have a problem with the gangster rap movement of the west coast in the mid-‘90s – I was in love with NWA, and a couple of other groups…
But then comes the rash of imitators…
Exactly. And it’s like God. It’s the same thing in New York: everyone’s a drug dealer, or their rims are spinning, you know what I mean? There’s a rash of that.
Are these artists – who don’t necessarily celebrate the negative stereotypes of a gun-toting, drug-dealing lifestyle, but hardly criticise it – bad role models for kids? After all, that level of hip-hop is, essentially, today’s pop music… kids who buy Beyoncé records also buy albums by The Game…
Um, you know you can simplify it down to something that’s not rocket science: a good record is a good record. I think The Game made a really good record, to a certain degree; I think what he did was unexpected, and I think that’s why people gravitated his way. The beats were pretty good… it was a good record. I think it was successful because of that, but also because of the beef – what was he going to say on it, you know? You’re right, though – at the end of the day, wherever you’re from or whatever you’re talking about, I can buy into it so long as it has some type of artistic thought behind it, and it’s relevant to me. Like, the way people speak sometimes… the way that rapper spoke about his rims: “The way the rims spin, 360 degrees, glistening the sun’s reflection, to my shade…”. You know, I’d be like, “Wow! I never heard anyone talk about spinning rims like that before!” If it’s redundant, then I’m simply like, this sucks. I won’t buy into it. I think you’re getting a lot of that now, and within five seconds of a song you know: this is another one of those songs.
So you’re naturally drawn to great lyricists? I mean, you’re regarded in critical circles as quite the expert…
In general, man, across all genres. From Gil Scott-Heron, to Stevie, people who write well attract my attention. I don’t know why that is, you know. These people have definitely influenced me. I listen to many different genres of music, but great lyrics blow me away. You can only set that as your barometer, and hope to write something that great yourself some day. Hopefully some day, down the line, someone will then look at your work and say to themselves, “I want to write that well”. That’s my drive, to reach that plateau where your work can be viewed like that. I’m still striving to get there, and to get better.
You must have aspiring rappers come up to you, though, and say you’ve been a huge influence on them?
All the time. I’ve been doing this for years and years, and I’ve heard the influence of the Organized Konfusion stuff in lots of artists. You couldn’t even imagine how many known artists have approached me about that band, saying “I heard this song, and I was blown away”. I think a true artist, though, is never satisfied – they’re always examining new techniques, and getting better and gaining more control. I need to learn how to control my vocal pitches more… or I need to get better at painting a picture. That’s what’s still exciting to me, and that’s why I’ve been in the game for such a long time. I still have an eager desire to do this, because it’s never been about how much money I can amass… I mean, that stuff is nice, but it’s always been about the art.
I guess it’s no coincidence, then, that this new record’s called Desire?
That’s really what it’s about. A lot of artists have been through what I’ve been through, and it’s broken them down. It wasn’t easy, but I persevered through all the bad situations. There’s always more negative things you could look at. I’ve been doing this so long that I could have moaned: I don’t deserve to be treated this way… Where’s my mansion? But it’s clearly not about that, and even the hiatus seems to have been perfect. It’s been a gift and a curse: if I’d have had music coming out, and people were able to chart my growth, I don’t think this album would have the impact it’s about to have. People are going to get it and feel one way or the other about it, which is great. It’s got that much of my soul on it – it should invoke a hard emotion. I hope, I hope, nobody says they like it. I want people to either love it or hate it. Diana Ross said one time that she doesn’t want people to like her music, but to love it or hate it. A lot of the music that I hate is pretty successful right now, and while that’s not to say that I think my record’s bad, I’m of the opinion that it’s true to what it’s trying to convey. You can’t please everyone, but man, the response has been overwhelming so far.
You can form your own opinion on Desire when it’s released on June 25. A single, ‘Body Baby’, is released next week – read the review here. Pharoahe Monch plays a handful of UK dates, details below:
June
14 Bristol Clockwork
15 London Wireless Festival, Hyde Park
July
17 London Scala
MySpace here.
