By Chaz Kangas
By Katherine Turman
By Phillip Mlynar
By Harley Oliver Brown
By Abdullah "T Kid" Saeed
By Matt Caputo
By Devon Maloney
By Chris Chafin
Black puppeteers have masterminded successful white musical acts for decades. But while Ruff Ryders producer Swizz Beatz tinkered behind the curtain to make multi-million-selling tracks for the likes of Limp Bizkit, Metallica, and Marilyn Manson, more and more black producers and white artists are celebrating the symbiotic coup of connecting the cred that comes with blackness to the dollar signs studios see when they can market hip-hop hybrids with a white face to white kids. Universal Music and Texas-based label Swisha House are banking on it with their respective September releases of Miri Ben-Ari's Miri Ben-Ari: The Hip-Hop Violinistand Paul Wall's The People's Champ.
The list continues to growDr. Dre and Eminem, Dr. Dre and Gwen Stefani, Timbaland and Bubba Sparxxx, Timbaland and Kiley Dean, Timbaland and Justin Timberlake, Pharrell and Justin Timberlake, Rockwilder and Christina Aguilera, the Black Eyed Peas' will.i.am and Fergie, Lil Jon and Paris Hilton, Beau Dozier and Joss Stone, Diddy and upcoming ingenue Jordan McCoy. Though there are no guarantees of success, these mixed-race power-couple pairings are worth their weight in potential platinum and gold.
"It's just easier to market white artists. They're just more easily embraced," Kawan "KP" Prather, the newly named executive vice president of a&r at Sony Urban Music, states matter-of-factly via cell phone, on the way to his 21st-floor office in midtown's Sony Building. Black singers and rappers come a dime a dozen, Prather notes, but a white rapper or artist in an all-black crew adds the wow factor necessary to sell records. "If you're the only black person on a hockey team and you're good then it's like 'Oh, shit!' People go for the oohs and ahs," he sayswhich partially explains how Israeli string prodigy Miri Ben-Ari, better known as "the hip-hop violinist," got off the liner notes and on the stage to tour with Kanye West.
"I came from the 'hood. I'm from Israel, yo," Miri Ben-Ari says, asserting her position at the hip-hop table, a place she earned cooking up succulent string arrangements for power projects like Kanye's College Dropout, Alicia Keys's "Fallin'," and Twista's "Overnight Celebrity." Cutting her teeth on Harlem's notoriously merciless Showtime at the Apollo stage, Ben-Ari ultimately earned coveted Apollo Legend status, a segment on MTV's Advance Warning, an NBA halftime show, and two performances on BET's 106th & Park.
First presented to hip-hop crowds by Wyclef Jean and later by Jay-Z at Summer Jam's decidedly ghetto gathering, the midriff-baring white girl blew audiences away, head-nodding her spill of curls to the hip-hop symphonies she teased out of the strings. "I bring, like, a different flavor," she explains, "not to mention that my country went through so much shit [that the people] feel my pain. When people [are] so about keeping it real, representing who you are and the 'hood, [my music] fits right there."
Like Ben-Ari, Houston-based Swisha House rapper Paul Wall doesn't think his whiteness has anything to do with his current popularity. For Paul, an authentic hip-hop identity is not about color, but about a person's life experience. "Somebody questioned if I got a right to recite what I spit, 'cause I've never been indicted or divided a brick, but my life is grit," he rhymed in 2004's "Am What I Am." His new The People's Champan inspiring sampling of Houston's chopped-and-screwed marching bandmeetschurch worshipmeetsjuke jointmeetstrip-hop musicmaintains this heart-on-your-sleeve approach with help from T.I., Three 6 Mafia, and the Swisha House's Archie Lee, Coota Bang, and Aqualeo. Wall says hip-hop's requirement that authenticity means being black and locked up is "a huge stereotype." En route to Miami for his VMA pre-show performance of "Still Tippin'" with Mike Jones, he claims his affiliation with the all-black Swisha House crew doesn't lend him hip-hop legitimacy. "I just hang with my homeboys. I'm just bringing me. I'm just doing my thing."
photo: Lorenzo Agius
"It's one thing about Paul Wall, I don't think it's the fact that he's white. He's a hard worker," Swisha House label boss Michael "5000" Watts agrees. "Paul Wall always had a big market. One thing about Paul when you meet him and talk to him, you take him for who he is as a person."
But to the majority, who don't get to meet and talk to him, Paul Wall is the whiteboy surprise among a sea of black faces in the backyard blender Mike Jones and video director Dr. Teeth use to visualize Jones's "Still Tippin'." Wall is not, according to Watts, promoted any differently than Jones, and he doesn't have to be, because he automatically appeals to a broader market. "It's just numbers," Sony Urban Music's Prather explains. "There're more white people than black people in this country, and people will get into artists or their projects based on their familiarity."
Kon Artis, producer and member, with Eminem, of D12, also claims that a white hip-hop artist trying to get a deal right now will often get preference over a black rapper with equal talent. But it's a little deeper than black and white, he muses. "Nowadays it's more [a matter] of association." Dr. Dre presented Eminem; Eminem presented D12 and 50 Cent; 50 Cent presented G-Unit.