Interview Charlie Braxton
Born and raised in Mississippi, Charlie Braxton has been one of the first writers to cover the Dirty South emergence in hip-hop. Before the upcoming release of Gangsta Gumbo, a southern anthology written with french journalist Jean-Pierre Labarthe, this francophile American told us his story. And his concerns with modern-day rap.
02/03/2011 | Interview by JB
Abcdr Du Son: You grew up and you live in Mississippi. What is the story of your family?
Charlie Braxton: I was born in 1961 in McComb, Mississippi, one of the hot spots of the Civil Rights in the sixties. My family was heavily involved in it and I actually grew up in segregation. To understand Mississippi in the sixties, you have to understand the tracks and highways that divided blacks and whites. I lived in an area called Bear Town. It was and it is still extremely poor. We didn't have running water but across the Highway 24, where the rich people lived, they got everything they needed to the excess. That sort of shaped my outlook on life and race relations. Music played a major part on it, too. I lived next door to a juke joint so I heard a lot of blues and R&B. I actually went to school with Vasti Jackson who is a third generation blues musician. Across Highway 24 there was a drive-in, like those you see in American Graffiti, where white kids would gather, play the juke box and dance. I would hear classic rock like Led Zeppelin, Jimmy Hendricks, The Who… And next door, I would hear Tyrone Davis, BB King, Albert King… It was a very strong education in music. It laid the foundation for me to understand the music of my generation, which hip-hop is.
A: Was there also a strong musical background in your family too?
C: My mother and my father divorced when I was three. I lived with my grandmother who was into gospel music, while my mother was into secular music. Throughout the week, we would hear Mahalia Jackson, Shirley Caesar and The Mighty Clouds of Joy. The only time we could play secular music at the house was when my grandmother went to church on Sundays. That's when I would hear Albert King, Diana Washington, The Temptations, Curtis Mayfield, Sly and the Family Stone, Barry White... She played those records almost religiously. Even though we were going through the most difficult times, there was always optimism and a social commentary in black music. The history of black artists has always been about justice and resisting oppression. That's something that I have always picked up, even in my writing as a journalist and as a poet.
A: You grew up during the end of segregation. Can we talk about an ending or did things remain the same at the time?
C: The laws changed but the feelings of people didn't change, that took a while. I didn't go really to school in an integrated environment until the mid-seventies. You had kids whose parents had risen under the segregationist mentality. And now, they were going to school with black kids. Some of them were cool, some of them were not so cool. It was a struggle but I really believe what really changed things was music. The fact that Jean-Pierre and I formed a friendship over our love of southern music, the fact that you and I are talking today, it's due to music! I want to further that understanding with humanity. Music has always played an important part in getting people to understand different cultures. Music is a universal language, no matter what part of the world you go to. If you play a good record, everybody understands instantly. I remember when I first heard MC Solaar: he was rapping so fast, I could only pick up a couple of words. But I knew that he was rhyming on beat, he had a cold flow and the music was dope. Solaar was the man. Big up to him!
"For most of people out of New York , "Rappers Delight" was the first window to hip-hop. That was a pivotal moment in my life."A: At what time did hip-hop appear on your radar?
C: I'll never forget it: 1979. I was in Jackson State University , on my freshman year, first semester. I would listen to funk, jazz and R&B. My roommate, Roosevelt "Pee Wee" Clark, was from the South Bronx . He walked in my room. I was playing the Bar-Kays "Move your boogie body", he had a tape of the Cold Crush Brothers on a cassette. His box was bigger so his music drowned mine out! I was like " What are you listening to? " and he said " This is hip-hop. " He had a great deal of knowledge about the Cold Crush Brothers, the Fearless Four, Treacherous Three… He taught me about those things. I was fascinated. I remember the first time I heard rap music on the radio. It was "Rappers delight" on WJMI, around early February. We had just come back from holiday. The first time I heard it, I was like " Wow, that's the Chic record. " And then I heard " hip, hop, the hibbit, the hop… " Pee Wee was asleep, I woke him up: " Yo man, they're playing rap on the radio! " He got up, like, " You kidding, get outta here. " No listen! We turned it up and the first thing he said was " What is this crew I never heard of? " At the time, there was this controversy because the Sugarhill Gang wasn't from the Bronx . To me, it didn't matter. For most of people out of New York , "Rappers Delight" was their first introduction to rap music, the first window to hip-hop. That was a pivotal moment in my life.
A: How did your parents react to you becoming involved in hip-hop. Was there a conflict of generation at the time?
C: My mother thought that I had lost my mind [laughs]. You gotta understand: to my mother and to the older generation, rap was noise. My mother told me "Look, you grew up listening to blues, jazz and R&B, and you gonna devote your career to this?" When she comes to visit me, I don't play rap music around. She's offended by the language. And I respect her because she's my elder. That was a huge conflict, but she wasn't too happy with me being a writer, period. I don't know in France, but in America, writers don't make a lot of money. This, plus the fact that I'm physically handicapped. My disease is called Cerebral Palsy, I have to walk on crutches. My mother's concern was how I would take care of myself.
A: At the time, did you try to rap, too? Was it something that appealed to you?
C: Believe it or not, I've never said this to anybody but I actually did record. I was going to Jackson State and a friend of mine named Rufus Mapp was a percussionist. I was doing poetry. I was heavily influenced by The Last Poets. We had a band that sometimes accompanied me as a poet. He and I were talking and he was like "We gotta put this on tape, dude!" We record a record called America , Land of the Free and Home of The Brave. The group was called NEWS, because there was somebody from the North, somebody from the East, somebody from the West and somebody from the South. Ultimately, the record never saw the light of day. The one copy I did have of it was burnt in a house fire…
A: I heard about that story… [Ed. Note: in 2002, during a police chase, a car smashed into Charlie Braxton's house, which was destroyed by fire.]
C: That was a devastating time in my life. I lost everything. I had a demo copy of KLC solo record. I had 6Shot's demo. Jatis, the group Bobby Creekwater comes from, I had that record too. Nobody has ever heard it. That's one of the single most painful events in my life. I lost books. I lost two manuscripts that I was working on: a volume of poetry and a history of hip-hop. Now that I have these new archives, I'm gonna donate them to some library. My oldest son is into hip-hop, he's a rapper. He wants me to give it to him but I don't know. If he shows that he can archive and take care of it, I may let him keep some of it but I really wanna donate it to a library.
A: Did you manage to save a couple of things?
C: I have actually started some stuff back over. People were generous in terms of donating material. Artists donated their records, record companies gave me records and journalists gave me stuff. I've been able to deal a decent amount of things but it's nothing like what I had. Every now and then, I think about a record. Somebody will say "Man, do you remember The Renegades?" It's a Jackson group. They actually only had only one copy of their record. John Bigelow from the group Reese & Bigalow and a founding member of the Renegades gave it to me and said "I know I'll lose it, that's why I'll always have it because I know you gonna take care of it." And it ended up in smoke. I remember sitting on my neighbours' lawn and watching the house go up in flames. I thought "OK, I got plaques in here, I got records in here, I got autographs books in here and I never going to get that stuff back." But I got my family, and if you got your love ones and they're safe, you can get all the material things back. It taught me a lesson no to value material things as much as I probably did back then.
"The beautiful thing about southern hip-hop was that there was no separation in the early stages between the artists and the audience. They wore the same clothes you wore. They lived the same life you lived, in the same neighbourhoods. "A: How did you get your rap informations back in the eighties, living in Mississippi ?
C: Primarily from people, and reading magazines. I was living in Hattiesburg , Mississippi at the time. Radio wasn't playing rap down here. Jackson was the only radio station I knew that had a rap mix show, and that was WMPR. The show was called "Too black, too strong". But Jackson was 85 miles away and you couldn't pick it in Hattiesburg . Young people didn't know what was hot, what was new. I used to run a newspaper called The Informer and I decided to create a section called "Youth in Effect". We reviewed rap records, interviewed rappers so people could know what the latest music was about. That's how I really began to learn about rap music. At the time, the South was starting to emerge with people like Luke Skywalker doing their thing. I watched hip-hop in the South grow during its infant stages. I had a bird-eyed view because I was down here.
A: Do you get to know some rappers at the time?
C: I knew some rappers personally, and watched them grow as men. A lot of these artists started out as independent artists so they had to go to small towns like Jackson . Jackson was one of the first cities to embrace UGK and Rap-A-Lot. We didn't just buy the Geto Boys, we bought the 5 th Ward Boyz, Too Much Trouble, Choice, Blac Monks… Those guys came to us and walked with us because they were us. The beautiful thing about southern hip-hop was that there was no separation in the early stages between the artists and the audience. They wore the same clothes you wore. They lived the same life you lived, in the same neighbourhoods. When I was listening to Eric B & Rakim, I could access their music as great music and great lyrics, but a lot of people in my hood didn't know the nuances of the culture he was expressing. We weren't in the Five Percenter culture like that. To understand Eric B & Rakim, you had to understand that doctrine, you had to understand New York slang. When Rakim talked about "My mic is a third rail", I didn't know what he meant until I saw Wild Style : Fab Five Freedy was talking to reporters and told them "Watch the third rail, it's electric." I was shocked!
A: What were the fundamental differences between the southern culture and the north-eastern culture?
C: From a southerner point of view, our family structure is a little bit intact, our community too. In the South, family means everything. It is the center. Family isn't just the nuclear family. It also includes your cousins, your neighbours. We call the South the "Bible Belt" because the Judeo-Christian ethos is very strong here. You can listen to the hardest gangsta rap record, and that record will show a sense of remorse, because these kids grew up with these Christian values. There are community values and a humanitarianism that are reflected inearly southern hip-hop. What's happening now in hip-hop, particularly in what I called the trap rap era, you see less and less remorse and more revelling in the drug culture. When you listened to Scarface, he would almost warn you not to go this road. "I never seen a man cried 'til I seen a man die", that's a blues record! That's a record with a sense of remorse and a sense of catharsis. You don't hear that in the corporate rap that's coming out. I'm happy to see the South rise but it pains me to see corporate America exploit it to a fair swear. There's nobody at the top decision making level of major labels that's live in the ghetto down here and understands the pain and anguish and desperation that take place. If you got a record that's glorifying drug dealing and you got kids who live in these hoods, like in West Jackson, where there are no job, racism is still a problem… and you're telling them "Hey, look at me, I'm selling drugs, I got all this money", you're kinda like inducing the kids to delve into this.
A: At what time did it change?
C: It has been evolving for a long time. I first started to really notice it when I was given a copy of Trap or Die , Jeezy's record. I remember it clearly because I was given a copy of the record by a fellow journalist named Carlton Wade, and he was excited about it. My friend asked me "What do you think? Ain't he dope?" I said "The music is great, but the lyrical content scares me a little bit. Basically, this dude is really a poster boy for the underbelly of capitalism!" Look, he's making drug dealing the in-thing. He's talking about it in a glorified way. There was only one song in that record that I really, really liked. It's "Gangsta". If you hear that record, there's a quote from the Geto Boys Resurrection album: "Real gangstas go to the polls". That's the only time Jeezy added a social commentary, when he talked about how they were giving football numbers to the young black men who were in prison. That was it! After that, I didn't hear songs like that until The Recession came along. Jeezy has tried to bring an end to his ways. I give him that, but the problem is he had already set the precedent. I tell people all the time, when you go back and listen to the criticism of gangsta rap in its beginning stages, critics were not concerned about the violence and the sex. I think the political message that was being slipped in by groups like the Geto Boys was disturbing the ruling class.
A: The same thing happened on the West Coast with The Chronic , and also in New York with someone like 50 Cent…
C: The difference between 50 Cent and NWA was NWA had "Fuck The Police". That was a powerful statement. Ice-T had "Cop Killer". "Freedom of speech, just watch what you say". It talked about of the hypocrisy of the system that says "OK, you're free to say anything you want to say, but if you say something that offends the ruling class, you'll be punished." The Geto Boys had records like "Do it like a G.O.", "Fuck a war"… That's been a tradition of black music: picking on the social ills of society, just as well as celebrating the life and the sexuality. It's always been about social commentary. Always. Corporate America is part of the ruling class. They are not going to allow music to criticize them when a lot of people start to listen. You asked me if there was a shift. It started to move shortly after the L.A. riots. The L.A. rebellion really took place all over the US . There was a riot in Atlanta that people don't know about. The only evidence of it is Goodie Mob's "Live at the o.m.n.i." That what's it's about: Khujo was locked up doing those riots. They had arrested so many people that they couldn't put them all in the Atlanta jails, they had lock em up in the OMNI theatre. That's what made me love hip-hop: it was speaking for the people who normally weren't spoken for in the mainstream. Thanks to hip-hop, I could listen to the group EnTeeEm – I'm going back to the old school, do you remember them?
A: What's the name?
C: EnTeeEm – I think it was a short for "Motherfucker".
A: Oh yeah, NTM! That's one of our flagship groups in France .
C: And they had a song called "Fuck the Police". They were arrested, weren't they? You see, here I am, an American and I heard about that record. They talked about the conditions that were taking place in France with minorities. Ice-T said it best: rap is a conversation. A conversation between me and my homeboys that the whole world happens to overhear.
"That's been a tradition of black music: picking on the social ills of society, just as well as celebrating the life and the sexuality. It's always been about social commentary. Always."A: Did you have the chance to discuss it with someone like Young Jeezy?
C: I've never had an opportunity to talk with Jeezy. I've talked to people who know him. One of the artists who is signed to his label is named Boo Rossini. I know him very well. He used to be with a group called the Concentration Camp. Boo is one my favourite Mississippi rappers, he's like the Jay-Z of the Mississippi . He's very lyrical but he's a gangsta rapper. He's always had social commentary in his music but recently, I wasn't pleased at what I was hearing from him. One of the artists that I really like who keep that tradition going is Plies. "100 Years" is one of my favourite records. It speaks about the prison industrial complex, the unfair drug laws… If you're caught with crack at one point, you can receive anywhere from 20 to life. But if you're caught with powder cocaine, you will get less than 7. Most of cocaine users will be middle class white men and women. Most crack addict will be black and Hispanics. It will fall along racial lines. The jails were disproportionately filled with these drugs convictions. It was more or less railroading young afro-american men into the prison industrial complex.
A: Speaking about the artists, it seems like the more they sell records, the more they become pragmatic. Like, NTM, we saw them at revolutionary at first, but all they wanted to do was having a career…
C: A lot of those kids are coming from the hood. They don't have anything, and then here comes this record industry with all this money – which ain't really money, because eventually, they are going to be raped. Those companies offer them money, jewellery, cars, opportunities to access to these things… but there's a price to pay. They like your energy, they like this, they like that… But after a while, they start to say "Well, you know, we need you to say this instead of that, because this is what's selling." It may not be the exact same words, but it will be implied for you to understand. If you don't, you'll find yourself without a hit. No hit, you'll find yourself without contract. A lot of these kids aren't strong enough, because at that point, they gotten used to the perks of being stars, but the record companies never give them enough money to maintain this on their own. It's like a pimp / prostitute game. Do you remember the Ying Yang Twins? In the last album they did for a major label, they were actually trying to talk about street issues. They went from "Get crunk!" to talk about street issues…
A: And we never heard of them again…
C: Not on a major label. You think it's a coincidence? All the artists who are strong enough to resist that say "OK, I'm out" and they become independent. Dead Prez is a perfect example of that. The thing that made the South so powerful was that a lot of these artists started out independent. There was no corporate boss to tell them what they had to say.
A: It seems like the Dirty South victory is a bittersweet victory, for you…
C: I'm proud to see the TI's and the Jeezy's and the Rick Rosses do phenomenal things. Things that groups like A Damn Shame couldn't do. I'm happy that Pimp C, God bless his soul, got to see before he died the kind of fame and respect he truly deserved with UGK. But I agree with Pimp C: the current crop of young artists are lacking in social commentary. And that's what makes our music fascinating to the world: our journey, our struggle as black southerners down here changed the way America process what the ideal of democracy was about. That's a powerful message we're still trying to get across. When you take that back from the music, it becomes bubble-gum. It might taste good but it's not nutritious.
A: What artists impressed you the most when you interviewed them?
C: The Geto Boys impressed me immensely because they understood the politics of the rap industry. They understood why they were being attacked by the mainstream. Lil J from Rap-A-Lot Records, I was impressed by him. I was impressed with Master P. On the surface, you would look at this guy with gold teeth and that big accent… and you think, this guy doesn't appear to be this smart. But when you start talking to him, he's a genius! To be able to put together an outfit like No Limit, then be able to market yourself… This is somebody who got the will to making it out of Calliope Projects, and he did it! That's fascinating. Also, talking to Mia X, Fiend, Killer Mike… There's also some great things like Wildlife Society which is one of my favourite groups. I wrote about them when they were on TVT. They were the first group out of Jackson to get a record deal with a major hip-hop label. They blended gangsta rap and social commentary together in such an amazing way. If you're a young kid, out there banging, they talked your language but they also addressed racism, classism, the prison industrial complex, the civil rights movement but at the same time, they were gangstas. To me that's powerful.
A: Was it difficult for you to push southern artists in the media back then?
C: In the beginning, yeah. Nobody really wanted to hear it. And you gotta understand: the majority of the people who were running the media outlets were mostly from New York . And New York hip-hop in the 90's was very, very, very New York-centred. In other words, if you were not from New York or from the Tri-State NY area, you didn't get the respect you deserved. It's sad that UGK never got covered til after Jay-Z put them on "Big Pimpin'". Then, all of the sudden, everybody started to respect them. I love Jay-Z for doing that, I respect him for doing that, but why did it have to come to that?
"To me, the southern hip-hop is really the modern day equivalent of the blues. You can sense it, you can hear it. These are the grandchildren of Muddy Waters speaking to you today."A: Even in France , most of us have been educated by New York . There's still a huge gap…
C: Let me say this to the French fans: in order for you to respect hip-hop, you must respect the South. The reason why I say that is clear: the music that hip-hop uses to make music – in other words the breakbeats – comes from people like who? Like James Brown. They come from soul, R&B, funk… Genres that have their roots where? The South. So you can't tell me that you love hip-hop but can't relate to southern music. Musically speaking, the deeper roots come from the South. James Brown is from Georgia . And he's the Godfather of soul!
A: That's the thing with hip-hop: once you know the history, everything becomes cohesive. But when you have only one side of the story, you start acting like you got the truth but you don't get it at all…
C: Exactly. This is like jazz purism. I love jazz music and I used to work at the college radio station that played jazz. I played jazz fusion, Ronnie Law… And a lot of the older cats were like "Errrrrrrr that ain't jazz." My point is, the nature of jazz, of black music, of music period, the nature of humanity is to evolve. Hip-hop is evolving. The Southern hip-hop is part of that evolution. Right now, there's a lot of criticism of snap music, of Soulja Boy – but hip-hop has always been about dancing. And just because it may not be your cup of tea, it doesn't mean you got to look down on it. Hip-hop is a multi-dimensional music. The problem is, you are not exposed to all of the music that we are producing. What's fascinated me about Jean-Pierre was how in-depth and sincere he was about the music. And I'm fascinated with your blog! What you're doing is really, really important because in the words of Andre 3000, when they accepted their first Source Awards: "The South has something to say." To me, the southern hip-hop is really the modern day equivalent of the blues. You can sense it, you can hear it. These are the grandchildren of Muddy Waters speaking to you today.
A: Do you have kids?
C: Yes I do, I have five of them. My older son is a rapper, his name is Big Spook. He's making his rounds in the hip-hop community here in Jackson . I have twins, Nzinga and Kamau, I have a stepdaughter named Hope and a 13-year old named Nile.
A: What kind of relationship do you have with them as far as hip-hop?
C: They are the ones that keep me interested in what's going on. There's so much music, I can't keep up with everything. The first time I heard Soulja Boy was when my daughter was playing his YouTube record. That was before he blew up. That record would have totally miss my radar until he made it to the mainstream. My son Kamau brought me a record by a local artist named Lil Yoshi. Dude is pretty good! I'm able to relate to my kids, I may be like "Errrrr, come on" with some of the stuffs they like, but what's good is I can say "You know who that sounds like? You need to hear THIS." I tell people "If you like Jeezy, then you need to go back and listen to Scarface and Trick Daddy."
A: How do you compare the childhood of your kids with yours, in Mississippi ?
C: I believe they are living in a better society. My youngest son is 13. When I was 13, if you'd have told me "Hey, we are going to have a black president", I would have said "Whatever it is you smoking, you need to stop." I couldn't fathom seeing a black man running this country because my future was so dark in terms of black/white relationship. Now my kids can not only fathom it, but they see it! They can actually say "I'd like to be president." That possibility exists for them. I'm not saying that things are honky dory in terms of race relations in Mississippi because they're not, but they are a hundred times better they were when I was a child. Now I'm teaching them to make sure the world will be a hundred times better for their children too.
A: How do you look at Obama's presidency?
C: I have mixed feelings. I'm happy that he's there. I just wish he would take a more progressive stance. The health care bill is really a great thing – we're one of the few countries in the western union that didn't have it. That's great, but at the same time, I wish he would be more aggressive in dealing with the Republicans, because they're trying to repeal everything he's doing. But that's just not his style, you know. He's a nice guy, but you can't be nice with the Republicans. They're kinda like Le Pen.
A: Oh, you know him too?
C: Oh yeah, I keep up with what's going on! Jean-Pierre keeps me up over there.
A: Now we got his daughter, Marine, and I'm afraid she scores big on the next election…
C: Wow. Here, somebody who may or may not be influenced by the T-bags planned a IED along the parade route celebrating Martin Luther King in Spokane , Washington . Thank God, the authority found it before it went off and rerouted the parade. Things are getting better but we still have people who think they can take back America to the 50's. We must do everything that we can to raise the level of consciousness among people so they won't accept going back.
A: David Banner has just been inducted in the Mississippi Music Hall of Fame. It's quite a symbol. What are your thoughts about it?
C: It's difficult for me to answer that question because I played a major role in his career. I know Crooked Lettaz very well. I've known Banner for a while, but we haven't spoken in years. I'm happy for him, I hope he can use that influence to help other Mississippi artists making it to the mainstream. One of the things that disappoint me more than anything, like you said, he's probably the best known rapper from Mississippi yet he is one of the less talented artists here. I say that with all sincerity, I love him to death but he is one the less talented rappers we have.
"I say that with all sincerity, I love David Banner to death but he is one the less talented rappers we have."A: What's your story with him?
C: I was his mentor. I met him when they were Crooked Lettaz. They were locked into a really bad contract. Donnie Cross, an artist that I do manage now, was a member of a group called Us from Dirt. They were on the Crooked Lettaz record and they were signed to the same management contract. Things weren't going well. Donnie just had a sixth sense that something wasn't right, so he called me and asked to read the contract. He brought three different contracts to me: a management contract, a publishing contract and a production contract. But they were owned by the same individuals. I remember telling him. "Without even reading this, I can tell you have a problem here. Your manager's job is to get you the best deal possible from a publishing company and a production company. But if he owns the company he's signing you to and managing you, then he has a conflict of interests: he won't get you the best deal, he will get himself the best deal! " I asked Donnie if Crooked Lettaz had signed those contracts as they were. They had, so they were in trouble. And that might explain why their album was being dragged. The next day, David Banner, Kamikaze and Fingerprint showed up at my house. They brought the same contracts, I explained it to them and connected them to Wendy Day who helped him get out of the contract. Unfortunately, Us from Dirt didn't get out of theirs. They had to wait for eight years… That's why you only hear Donnie now.
A: Eight years is a pretty long time in rap.
C: It can be your career! Like I said, I'm happy for David Banner but I want to see other artists out of Mississippi emerge. Like Big K.R.I.T., I'm happy for him. He's finally gotten him a deal with Def Jam. You are going to hear some great things from him. Hopefully, you are going to hear great things from Boo on CTE, Donnie Cross, Needle in a Haystack – one of the members died but I was really impressed with them. There are so much talent here, both on the R&B and rap level that need to be exposed. I'm hoping that that happen.
A: Is there anything you wanted to add?
C: I wanted to tell people of France , be on the look out for a book called Gangsta Gumbo by myself and John, Jean… Do I pronounce it correctly?
A : Jean-Pierre Labarthe. You don't have to spell the "H".
C: I took French in college. I got a B in it, and I'm not good with it. That's one of the biggest regrets of my life.
A: Didn't you want to live in France at some point of your life?
C: I tooked French because one of my favourite writers is James Baldwin. I had the opportunity to meet him twice and spend some time with him. He moved to France and I wanted to do that. Plus my grand-mother is creole. She's from Louisiana . I took French to be able to communicate with her but I can't. I can say some basic things like "Comment ça va ?" but if you started talking in French, I wouldn't understand it.
A: You never spent vacations in France ?
C: I've never been to France . Let me tell you this story: six years ago, there was a conference that was going to take place in France for the 30 years of hip-hop. Me and my wife were supposed to be on a panel but the conference got cancelled. I got my passport and everything – I was so looking forward to go on this trip. I wanted to hear some of the hip-hop out there, and I really wanted to meet NTM. I really wanted to meet them. Believe it or not, those brothers, they were like heroes to me, man. Anybody that has the nuts to say what they said and knowing they would go to jail and still did it, that's powerful. Not too many people can do that. You think about Martin Luther King, for him to get on the Edmond Pettus Bridge, knowing he was going to be jailed. That takes courage to stand up and say what needs to be said, especially when it's not popular. That takes a lot of courage.