Writing this interview in the aftermath of another November Election Day, it’s easy for me to agree with West Coast lyricist Ras Kass’s assertion that human beings are divisive by nature. But even if this is true, there is nothing divisive about the union of Ras and Grand Rapids-raised Cool Edit pro Apollo Brown. Then again, when at his best, the poetic flourishes of Kass always have been sort of superhuman, whether omniscient (“Nature of the Threat”), omnipotent (“Interview with the Vampire”), or straight-up invincible (“Waterproof MC”).
Thankfully, rap is an artform in which monumental, Marvel-Universe-style team-ups often live up to or even exceed expectation, and the partnership of Ras with vinyl-crackle auteur Apollo Brown does exactly that. Issued by Mello Music Group on Oct. 28, Blasphemy serves as both a redemption song for Ras (though, as you’ll read, he doesn’t consider his career arc as asymmetric as others might) and flag-planting for Apollo.
Tiny Mix Tapes had the privilege of meeting with both artists at a Manhattan recording space.
Ras, Blashphemy marks a departure from your previous work because only one producer is involved. Even on Spit No Evil, there were two beat-makers. How does creating an album with one producer compare with working with several, and is there any particular reason you haven’t done this before?
Ras: It’s definitely different. I’ve enjoyed the ability to not wear that hat. Sometimes, especially early on in my career, a lot of my first songs I was producing, like “Miami Life,” and all that type of stuff, I produced. And that’s not my expertise. I like digging and finding a cool little sample, but there’s Apollo and Premier and so many dope producers who just hear sonics better than me — how to filter, where the vocals should be, what kind of snare, hi-hat, or tambourine — so it was refreshing to be able to give him the keys to that car [so] I could focus on writing and conceptualizing.
It’s funny you mention DJ Premier. You’ve got memorable collaborations with he and also with RZA, stuff that had crazy fans like myself saying, “Imagine a Ras Kass/RZA album” or, “Imagine a Ras Kass/Premo album,” and in Apollo you have somebody who’s likely influenced by both, so in a sense it’s the album people have been waiting for.
R: Definitely.
What was your first exposure to each other’s music?
Apollo: My first exposure was “Soul On Ice,” “Miami Life.” I’ve been a fan ever since, just like 99 percent of the hip-hop community, and that’s self-explanatory right there, but I’m curious to know what this guy says.
R: I don’t know the first record [I heard]. It’s not Trophies. I think niggas was rapping over instrumentals of yours. I just heard shit like that. You know how you know something but you didn’t pay attention? That’s not a cool thing, but that’s just being honest, like you’ll hear a name but all of a sudden you start seeing it a lot and you realize it’s existed all that time, but you just weren’t aware; you were seeing what you wanted to see. So, Apollo’s name had came up, I had heard shit that he produced, and I’d always be like, “Yo, that shit is hot,” and finally I think my notice-taking was the album you and Guilty [Simpson] did.
A: Dice Game.
R: There are some ill records on that, and there’s one where Guilty does kind of the same verse twice. I just thought that was an interesting record. I’ve probably been aware of Apollo since 2009/2010.
It was like, “Wow, OK, maybe I could do this full-time.” I gave myself a year. I was like, “If my bank account doesn’t reflect what I want it to reflect, if my reputation doesn’t reflect what I want it to reflect by the end of this year, then I’ma go back to work.”
Apollo, you’ve been a flagship artist of Mello Music Group since the label’s beginnings. How did that relationship come about?
A: It’s funny, man, in January 2010, the first week in January, I got laid off from my nine-to-five, and a few days later I got a call from Michael Tolle, and he wanted to bring me aboard and sign a production deal to the label. It was kind of weird: You sign a deal and get laid off in the same week. You know what I’m saying? I never met this dude. “Where’d you get my number? I don’t even know you. How do you know me?” But it was like, “Wow, OK, maybe I could do this full-time.” I gave myself a year. I was like, “If my bank account doesn’t reflect what I want it to reflect, if my reputation doesn’t reflect what I want it to reflect by the end of this year, then I’ma go back to work.”
I haven’t went back to work yet, so my career is in the music industry. This is what I do full-time and I make a pretty decent living at it, and I get to work with cats like Ras Kass and travel the world and meet all kinds of amazing people who are instrumental in my career. And I just get to wake up every morning and make beats! Come on, man, for a living! That’s amazing. I am as humble as they come when it comes to that, because this can all end tomorrow. My fans could turn on me and be like, “You suck, we hate your music,” and it can end tomorrow, so I’m grateful and I’m humble and I’m blessed.
Ras, your break from Priority has been widely publicized — you didn’t exactly leave on good terms — and yet a lot of fans out there consider the albums you did with them to be your best work to date, and now Blashphemy is rightly being lauded as well. Do you think having the structure and the financial support of a bigger label brings out the best in you as an artist? Or is it that when you’re working your hardest at being a great artist, you find yourself in situations like these?
R: Neither of those. The reality is “put your money where your mouth is.” Every album that I’ve done, whether it came out or not or whether it came out on a major or not, was my best foot forward. People believe what shines is golden. I don’t take nothing away from what I’m doing today, because I just gave 110 percent again, but you’ve got to remember now there is no label; I am the label — so I could’ve took that $50,000 and bought a car. I said this before in a rhyme: “I got no regrets for the records I make / How could I disown my own soul?” This is me. I bleed on wax, I bleed on these tracks, and I tell the truths and talk about things I might’ve done wrong. People deserve to have their opinions, but it won’t affect my opinion. I know how dope Revenge of the Spit is, I know how dope Barmageddon is. I spent my money on it. You think I would spend my money to fuck it off? So, I don’t worry about that, man. If that’s how they feel, that’s great. I’m definitely happy to have an expert doing what he does expertly, to have the resources to get it mastered correctly, to have the meta data in there so we can track it and be in-depth. Sometimes, I didn’t have enough money for that, but I love everything I ever made, because I always try hard.
A: Let me add something to my last question, something I don’t always say, but being that Mike hit me up out of the blue in 2010 when I was a nobody, I owe him a lot. Obviously, I’ve done what I’ve done and I make the music that I make, but I definitely give a lot of credit to him and Mello for bringing me from where I was to where I am now, so I just need to put that out there. I definitely give him a lot of credit for believing in me when a lot of people was like, “Who the fuck is this dude and why would I ever mess with him?”
Also, I want to make my own question, or I’m going to answer my own question. My three favorite Ras Kass songs? Of course “Soul on Ice” (Diamond D Remix), “The Evil That Men Do,” and “It Is What It Is.” I don’t know if anybody else would name those, but those are my three favorite Ras Kass songs. I listened to those songs religiously throughout my life.
R: I caught a lot of shit over “It Is What It Is,” and that was the funniest thing. What nobody knows is I was crying writing that song, because I wrote it to my mother, so I don’t care what people think or say about that song. It just shows you’ve got good taste. That’s the most important song on that album [Rasassination], and when I finished the song, I gave it to my mother and it was cathartic. There’s a back story to why I was crying, but that’s why I say, “Kiss my mother on the cheek because her love is deep / like Keith Sweat…” I would just cry as I was going over it, and other people can say what they need to say. “Oh, well he tried to sell out. Why’d he use that sample?” Alright bro.
A: “If You Were Here Tonight” is my favorite song of any genre ever, so that is the greatest song on Earth to me. I’ve listened to that song more than I’ve listened to any other song in life.
R: And you know what’s funny? The little kid at the beginning is my nephew. That’s my cousin Blue’s son. It a family structure reflecting, “It Is What It Is.” Maybe I might fail in this music shit, but I’m doing the best that I can, so, you know, it’s about that. And bringing it back to Blasphemy, these are time capsules of my feelings, scored, orchestrated by Apollo Brown. It’s the point of my life to be able to get in the studio with hot-ass production, gun a record out, maybe cry on the record. I didn’t… do any crying on this one, but—
A: Now with technology, these are here forever. These will always be here.
R: And shouts to Mello Music. There’s vinyl, there’s a CD, there’s an mp3.
Well-packaged vinyl.
R: Hell yeah, I’ma go cop mine. I want that shit.
I got no regrets for the records I make / How could I disown my own soul?
Another aspect of this album that stood out to me is the song length. Although there isn’t an “epic” track, there are a lot of four- or five-minute songs.
A: A lot of long songs on here, and that’s cool though. I mean there’s a lot to say, man. And you said, the “epic track.” I personally don’t make hits, never have, never will. I try to stay as consistent as I can because consistency leads to longevity. When you ask a bunch of people what’s your favorite song on the album, everybody has a different favorite, and when you can do that you’re doing something right. You don’t want everybody to gravitate toward one song. You just don’t. You want everyone to have [their own] favorite. That’s consistency.
Or even better, when one person listens to the same album and each time has a different favorite song. One of my favorites on it, speaking of which, is “48 Rules Part 1.” Would you talk a little bit about the process behind writing that song, and will there be a Part 2?
A: There has to be.
R: It’s kind of been forced. It’s set up that way.
Rather than “is there,” when will there be a Part 2?
R: I don’t know.
A: There has to be one whether I produce it or not.
R: No, he’d have to produce it. It wouldn’t be right if he didn’t do it. Probably one of these days he’ll send me a beat and it’ll be, “Well this should be ‘48’” and I’ll write it. We’ll figure it out. Maybe he’ll have an album and ask me to do a song, and I’ll be like, “Can I do ‘48 Rules Part 2?’”
The process was pretty basic. I like to transcribe stuff. A lot of young people go check a Wikipedia, half the information is wrong, and they think they know shit. People talk about 48 Laws of Power just like they taught about Machiavelli, and they said he faked his death and came back three days later. That’s not what it says in Machiavelli. Did you ever read Machiavelli? The book is this thin. And that’s the problem with people, they just don’t read, and then they repeat shit and act like they know it. And so what I wanted to do was to remind myself, I wanted to apply to the streets and to the music industry those 48 Laws of Power and throw them out there. It was a reminder to myself that there’s some strategy involved in life, especially in corporate America, and [not to] get too emotional and how to deal with this shit, because at the end of the day, they’re good steps to apply.
A: “Let others do your work and take all the credit.“ [Laughs]
R: And then I [adlib], “Puff Daddy perfected that.”
A: It’s definitely prominent. I made sure that was up.
R: Some real jerk shit, but it’s kind of true. It was a great song to write, plus, come on, who can’t resist using Chuck D’s “1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9.” I gotta get one of those off one time.
More about: Apollo Brown, Ras Kass
