In a pop culture and industry overrun with a new kind of R&B (repetition and bullshit), Little Brother stands out by virtue of not being easily categorized. Even the group’s name is genre-vague, prompting a “what do they do?” kind of question. The cover images of their CD, The Listening—a trio of nondescript-looking, brownskinned, t-shirt-and-jeans-clad brothas—may lead you to think that they’re contestants in the game of hip-hop (that much is true), while a quick scan of their bio tells you that the members (MCs Phonte and Big Pooh, along with DJ/producer 9th Wonder) hail from Durham, N.C. Perhaps you then imagine being hit with the typical “Dirty South” grittiness. But once you press play, your ears experience something totally different. Melodic, complex beats reminiscent of A Tribe Called Quest, creative samples and tracks that show the influences of DJs Pete Rock (who called The Listening “classic”) and Premier take you back to the days when hip-hop was less about blinging and more about rocking for the sheer love of it.

The Beginning

For Little Brother, the journey began in 1998, when Phonte, Pooh and 9th met while attending North Carolina Central University. After learning that they shared the same love for a good freestyle battle and musical tastes (The Roots, Led Zepplin, Wes Montgomery) they clicked. Together, they helped form a burgeoning underground scene in Durham, along with the MC/producer collective Justus League (of which they’re still members). August 2001 saw Little Brother become an official group, and they headed into the studio to record their first single, “Speed.” The chemistry was blistering—and others took notice as well. Before they’d been together a full year, Little Brother had become the darlings of local DJs, music lovers, club promoters and college radio, opening for national acts like Tha Liks, and voted one of the “Top 10 Artists to Watch” by the Raleigh News & Observer. Then, on a whim, LB decided to post some of their tracks on Okayplayer.com’s message boards, to get some feedback from the site’s members. The joints were such hits that they now have their own artist site there. “It had been a minute since we had featured a totally independent artist, and the quality of Little Brother's The Listening struck a nerve with us to the point where we felt comfortable putting our brand behind it,” said Okayplayer.com director Dan Petruzzi.

Admittedly, the buzz caught on at Triscene.com, as well—from the moment Track 1 begins on The Listening (released Feb. 25), you realize that there are at least three cats who still know what real hip-hop is. Yay. So I just had to catch up with Phonte (and later, DJ 9th Wonder) about things seen & learned in a game called Hip-Hop.

Triscene.com: You recently rocked at S.O.B. in New York City. Talk about the energy of performing live, vs. being in the studio.

Phonte: I’m a studio person, myself; there’s just something about recording. I was watching this awards show a couple of years ago; they gave Prince this award, and I remember him saying, ‘I just love making music so much…every time I make a new song, it’s like making a new friend.” I didn’t really understand it then; I was like, ‘Okay, this motherfucka’s crazy.’ But now that I’m doing it, I see what he means. Every time you walk out of the studio with something dope, it’s like every song has it’s own personality. It takes on its own shape. Most of the time, me and Pooh write our rhymes before we go into the studio, so the song is pretty much done already. But once we get there, a lot of the stuff we come up with is still on the fly. Like, ‘I know we wrote this, but let’s try it this way.’ That’s why I love the studio so much—it’s just a breeding ground for new ideas.

As far as live performances, there are things we still have to improve on, but we rock that motherfucka, man! (laughs) Whether it’s four people or four thousand--we’ve rocked shows for like, 20 people before. And we were like, “Alright…we ain’t getting no money to do this, we gotta do it for the love.” These people paid their money, so…” Next to being in the studio, I like performing live, because that’s when you really make your connection with your fans. That’s when people really see who you are as a person.

What do you think makes your live shows…well, live?

We’re just who we are as people. We take the music seriously, instead of taking ourselves too seriously. It ain’t about of bunch of mean mugging, ice grills & shit. We like to laugh, have fun, joke with the crowd, throw water on people, whatever. We just like our shows to be a real family experience.

What do you like most about The Listening and Little Brother’s sound?

The thing I like most is that you can’t really say there’s a target audience for it. We know when we made the record what we were going for, but after that, there were cats like, “Yo, I’m pumping that 50 Cent and I’m pumping your shit.” I think that’s a beautiful thing, man—because there’s so much separatism in hip-hop right now. Back in the day, you could run P.E., Tribe, the Beasties, and Run D.M.C. on the same venue, and the shit would rock.

So what do you think of hip hop’s current state?

It’s almost like a paradox. Everybody’s a fucking rapper now—there’s probably like, 300 rappers within a 10-mile radius. There’s a lot of diversity, which can be a good thing; but at the same time, a lot of shit is just sounding the same, and there’s nothing really pulling people one way or the other. I remember Quest (from the Roots) saying that he would rather make a record that sucks, like one mic in The Source, than make that record that gets three mics, you know what I’m saying? At least then, if you hear, “Yo, this shit is the absolute worst,” motherfuckas’ll read that review and be like, “Well, damn—it can’t be that bad—let me go check it out,” you know? Three mics is like the worst rating, because it’s like, “Well, nigga, you made an album. Whatever.” And that’s what it is out there right now—it’s just a “three mic” hip-hop world.

LB has a lot of issues with groupies, golddiggers, unprepared artists, etc. How jaded are you with the industry?

A lot of the stuff I’ve seen go down since we’ve gotten a little bit of buzz & notoriety really ain’t surprising to me. A lot of other cats in the crew might be like, “Yo, man, it’s going to cost us such-and-such amount of money to get on the radio? That’s fucked up; that’s that ‘payola’ shit,” and I’m like, “Dog, it’s been like that.” It’s no news to me.

How did you get the memo?

I read any kind of publication I could get my hands on—Vibe, The Source, Billboard, books like Everything You’d Better Know About the Record Industry (Gary Greenberg & Kashif) and Confessions of a Record Producer (Moses Avalon). Pooh and I took music industry and production classes, also.

So, you didn’t come in all starry-eyed, then.

Oh, hell naw! This business is as fucked up as ever, so as long as I’ve got the opportunity to keep making good music, and as long I can wake up in the morning and find something about the industry to smile about, then I’ll keep doing it.

Which artists would you like to work with?

I really want to work with Beck. His live show is mad—he’s hilarious. I’m a big Radiohead fan, I like Thom Yorke’s voice. I’d like to use his vocals for some shit; maybe just have him sing some melodies, chop them up and sample them. Of course the legends, like Quincy Jones and Prince. (Brazilian artist) Bebel Gilberto, she’s hot, too. Her family (father is bossa nova pioneer João Giberto, mom is singer Miúcha) pretty much like, run Latin music—you know, like, “The Girl From Ipanena.” She’s pretty dope.

Let’s talk about “The Yo-Yo” and the “coffee shop/open mic” experiences…

When a rapper like Talib (Kweli) comes out and he ain’t talking about a lot of gunclap shit—just things that are going on in his life, pretty much being himself—people want to label him a “conscious rapper.” So the minute you see him do a joint like “Waiting For the DJ”—which was a dope record—cats are like, “Oh, he can’t do that—conscious rappers don’t dance!” It’s not just about standing around in the club, nodding my head…I mean, we dance, we like women, we like to party, you know? A lot of times, you just have to do things to break out of that stereotype. So, “The Yo-Yo” has to do with the days before Little Brother, when I would just get into whatever kind of freestyle battle that was going on at the time, be it at open mics, coffee shops or whatever—that’s pretty much how I made my name. During open mic nights at coffee shops, I’d be the only MC and would have to sit through like, 10 fucking poets, man.

Oh, you mean the “my third-eye streams cosmic moonbeams into your surreal consciousness” type joints…

Yo, just shoot me in the fucking head now, man (laughing). There was often this elitist-type air, like “oh, we’re better than so-and-so because we listen to Saul Williams….please, don’t play that Jay-Z record!” I mean, if that’s who you are, then cool—but you’re not any more “special” or “enlightened” because that’s what you do. “The Yo-Yo” was just me saying, “Look, we’re all the same people. Y’all niggas might get up and talk about ‘my Afrikan people’ this and ‘my Black Queen’ that, but at the end of the night, y’all trying to go home with something just like me!’ Y’all trying to get drunk, smoke something and fuck—let’s be real.

What experiences have you encountered that have given you a different perspective on who your fans are?

At one point, 9th was staying with one of his homeboys, MC. MC’s crib was the spot—everybody would come through, DJs, producers, drug dealers…(laughs)…he wasn’t doing anything illegal; everyone just wanted to be down. Cats would just come through and holla, like “What’s up, what’s good,” so we used that as our testing ground. We would play shit for the grittiest street niggas, thinking, “Yo, let’s run ‘For You,’ ‘cause that’s the street joint.” We’d run it, they’d be like, “That’s dope.” Then we’d play “The Way You Do It,” and they’d be like, “Yo! I’m loving that shit, dog—run that shit back!” So, we were thinking they’d like the hard shit, but it was the more melodic shit that they were feeling. So, you can’t really put people in boxes.

What were the songs you put on Okayplayer.com? And when you first decided to post them, what did you think the reaction would be?

The first joints we put on Okayplayer included “Speed,” “Whatever You Say,” “Away From Me,” “Light It Up,” and “The Yo-Yo.” There was nothing on the album that we weren’t feeling, but those songs were like our “worst of the best.” We figured we’d just sneak them out to see what people thought. We really had no idea it was gonna take off like that; we were like, “Well…cats might like it, they might not.” I know you hear that all the time in interviews (laughs), but we thought that they were a basic representation of what Little Brother was about. It was like, “if you don’t like these joints, chances are you won’t like anything we’ve got—maybe we just ain’t for you.” But people took to it.

(*9th Wonder calls in and gets in on the conversation*)

The Listening’s tracks show a wide range of influences—I’m especially digging “Make It Hot,” which has a very Femi Kuti vibe. Who were some of your influences?

9th Wonder: I like Curtis Mayfield—he’s soulful, yet painful at the same time. You scrunch your face up when you listen to him, like “I feel what you’re talking about.” That’s the kind of effect I like to have with the tracks I make. Al Green, Sting—I like Sting a lot. I also listen to a lot of 80s music—Bon Jovi, Guns & Roses—those cats had a lot of energy. The Commodores, the O’Jays; that whole time period I’m into, as well.

Phonte: My hip-hop influences were Kane and Tribe. Lyrically it was Kane, he was just it for me. As far as creating a sound and legacy of music that I wanted to follow, it was Tribe all day. Kane was a dope lyricist, but after his second album, shit just went downhill. But Tribe, they were just really consistent; they’d drop an album, and it was like, “You ain’t even got to put it in the listening section—it’s just getting bought.” I knew that if I was going to do this, that’s how I wanted my music to be, aesthetically.

9th, what’s your beat-making process?

(9th): If you hear a sample on a record, and you get a sound in your head, you make sure the way you hear it in your head is the same way you get it on the beat. If it don’t sound like you hear it in your head, it ain’t going to work. You just keep working at it until it’s right. And if it still doesn’t work, then you trash it. That’s how I go about it.

The million-dollar “burning building” question: If you had to run back in & save just one item, what would it be?

(Phonte): I got like, a million import CDs, but it would probably be my Wild Style DVD. Watching that movie, there’s just so much that’s been jacked out of that motherfucka! I saw it for the first time not too long ago, and I was just like, “Oh, my God—no they didn’t!”

(Laughs) Oh, so what did you think of the other hip-hop movies of the 80s’ “breakdance” period—like Breakin’ and Beat Street?

Breakin’ was alright, but I liked Beat Street, too. And it was pretty good. A lot of cats hated on it, but I thought it was cool—so I’d vote for Beat Street, between the two. Now, that damn Rappin’, with Mario Van Peebles? That shit was horrible.

In closing, what advice do you have for those trying to get in this hip-hop game?

(Phonte): The biggest advantage you can have over anybody is a dope record. Get your skills to their highest level, and make sure people hear you and your rhymes. Make sure they hear something in it that makes you you. Once you do that, just stick to your guns and don’t change for nobody. You’re the only one who has to face yourself in the mirror every day, so if you’re going to do it, you might as well do it your way.

(9th): Stay true to yourself, perfect the craft, know the artform—there’s nothing wrong with making money, but know what you’re getting into. Study the art. Learn from the old masters, rather than the new-jack cats (although there are some that are dope). Study Pete Rock, ‘Preme (DJ Premier), the RZA, the Bomb Squad. Know the history and background of hip-hop beatmakers.

You can also check out Little Brother online at LittleBrotherMusic.com and at Okayplayer.com.

Other Articles:
Hair Trials & Tribulations