Lauren Terp
Anth 3980
Biography of a Hip Hop Pioneer
Oct. 9, 2006
George Washington of Hip
Hop: A biography of DJ Kool Herc
ÒIÕm a disc jockey, I play
the discs to make you jockey. I
play the records that get you up, I got records that sit you down, I play
records that make you could talk over it and I get you back on the dance
floor.Ò
ÐKool Herc
If you were to go looking for the godfather of hip hop, seeking out his name on the outside of record labels, albums, songsÉ you wouldnÕt find him listed alphabetically, chronologically, as an artist in record stores or on Amazon. Type in the name Clive Campbell, and, just like back in the day, I-tunes will ask if you meant ÒClydeÓ Campbell. Kool Herc? No search results found. ThatÕs because, amazingly enough, the originator of the break-beat- the father of rap, the man with the plan- never recorded an album. But just look and listen, and instead, youÕll find him inside the music, on the dance floor, and on the mic, Kool HercÕs influence and style is present, infinitely and inextricably, throughout the development of hip-hop.
Kool Herc wasnÕt always ÒKool.Ó Born in 1955, in Kingston, Clive Campbell was the oldest of six. In Jamaica, Clive was exposed to musical traditions with deep political and economic histories (Chang, 25). He witnessed first hand the scene happening in Kingston, the sound systems parties and the practice of toasting (Gross, 2005). His father, Keith Campbell, had a diverse record collection, broadening CliveÕs musical tastes from reggae to country to jazz. The CampbellÕs lived comfortably in Jamaica, but CliveÕs mother, who was working an studying in Manhattan, saw opportunities for a better future in States (Chang, 68, 71).
Clive was the first of his family to join his mother in the Bronx. He arrived in 1967, armed with a corduroy coat, Òroach killerÓ cowboy boots, and a head full of Jamaican beats. He quickly realized his style was more ÒhickÓ than Òhip,Ó but he began going to dances and house parties, picking up slang, listening to new music, and ditching his Jamaican accent (Chang, 73).
Like many youths in the Bronx during the early 70Õs, Clive was (re) inventing his identity. He joined the legions of kids who were putting their names up all over New York. Graffiti brought Clive a reputation (Gross, 2005). Out of convenience, Clive became Clyde, and eventually picked up Kool from a cigarette commercial. KOOL AS CLYDE began appearing along side UNCLE RICH and soon Clive was hanging out with legendary writerÕs, the EX-VANDALS (Chang, 75). At school, a classmate began to call him Hercules, which dropped to HERC, replacing CLYDE, becoming KOOL HERC (Gross, 2005).
Graffiti began to blow up everywhere in New York, but KOOL HERC knew better than to get into trouble. His fatherÕs firm discipline had helped keep him away from gangs and, as Herc says, ÒHeÕd a mopped up the floor with me if heÕd known his son was destroying public propertyÓ (Gross, 2005). After 1973, however, Herc didnÕt need tags to spread his celebrity. When the name KOOL HERC moved from the walls onto index cards inviting people to party, it fueled curiosity that drove people to his first parties to find out just who this cat was. Just who this cat would turn out to be and what that be would do, was so far out of sight, nobody would really find out until years later.
It was back to school time, that year, and HercÕs little sister, Cindy, wanted to Òflip her moneyÓ and have a little extra cash to buy some new clothes, so she decided to rent the Recreation room of the familyÕs apartment building on Sedgwick Avenue and have a party, charging admission at the door (Gross, 2005). Herc had been DJing for several years at this point and his father, who had sponsored a blues band, purchased a new Shure P.A. sound system (Chang, 68). While messing around with it behind his fatherÕs back, Herc figured out how to peak the system. After words, his father would let him play in between sets of the blues band, giving him the experience that would lead to Cindy asking him to play at her party, which turned out to be a huge success that led to the CampbellÕs holding parties nearly once a month (Chang, 70).
After that first party, Sedgwick Avenue became a recreational outlet, the place for the youth of the Bronx to party. The success of the back-to-school party spawned more parties that eventually moved outside, spilling beats into the streets of New York. B-Boys and B-girls would get out and break, get down, and go postal. Kool Herc tapped his system into light-posts and his wide range of musical samples, from James Brown to Manu Dibango, rocked until the break of dawn, setting the stage for new styles and new identities to form within the cultural phenomena of what would come to be known as hip hop. Before Sugar Hill Gang, before the Message, Kool DJ Herc embodied the lifestyle that gave rise to hip-hop. He played records that nobody else had, that nobody heard on the radio. Staying exclusive was essential to retaining his audience, and to stop people from stealing his beats, he used to lift the labels off his records to (Gross, 2005).
One night, while watching the dancers, feeling out the vibe of the crowd, trying to plan his next move to keep the party going, Herc noticed people waiting for certain parts of the records to dance, the breaks. His observation lead to an ÒexperimentÓ that would influence the fate of hip-hop, DJÕs, and B-boys forever. He decided to put all of his breaks together, to prolong the part of the record that people wanted to dance to (Gross, 2005). To keep these breaks going, Herc started using a method called Òmerry go roundÓ in which he would take two records and cue up the beginning of the break just as the other was ending, perpetually looping the breaks (Chang, 79).
As Herc continued to
experiment on his impressive sound system, he inspired many other kids to
participate in one or more of the elements of hip hop. B-boys and B-girls flocked to HercÕs
parties, hooked on his Òmerry go roundÓ of breaks. New DJÕs started showing up, including Afrika Bambaataa and
Grandmaster Flash, who would also go on to the be some of hip-hopÕs founding
pioneers (Davey D, 1989). As
Brian Brown (2003) notes, ÒThe records spun by Herc and Bambaataa became not
just ÒclassicsÓ but the sonic backbone for hip-hop, songs sampled with the
frequency of a teenager quoting Austin Powers.Ó In 1977, Herc introduced a record that would become perhaps
his most widely recognizable influence in later generations of hip hop music
and the anthem for B-boys and girls, ÒApacheÓ played by the group Incredible
Bongo Band (Brown, 2003). Covered
by Sugarhill Gang in 1981, and most recently by Nas on his album, ÒMade You
Look,Ó ÒApacheÓ appears on a string of hip-hop albums since Herc's introduction
in the 70Õs (Matos, 2005).
Producer Pete Rock, who used to swarm Kool HercÕs parties along with the
likes of Prince Paul and other aspiring DJs, puts it this way, ÒIf you donÕt
know ÔApache,Õ you donÕt know hip-hopÓ (Brown, 2003).
Despite
burying his Jamaican accent underneath his new Bronx image, HercÕs roots still
flowed with the musical influences from his beginnings in Kingston. He began to mimic the toasts of
Jamaican DJÕs, giving shout outs and saying rhymes, transporting the musical
culture of Jamaica to the Bronx (Youngquist, 184). As his responsibilities as DJ became more complicated,
HercÕs friends Coke La Rock and Clark Kent took over the microphone, and they
became rapÕs first emcee team, known as Kool Herc and the Herculoids (Jahsonic,
2006).
Kool Herc transformed the role of the DJ by pioneering the compositional technique that allowed DJÕs to be more that just jockeys, riding the works of other musicians. Rather, DJs became authors, creating and composing their own pieces. The break-beat illustrated the possibility of isolating existing pieces of music and lifting them from their original context. These pieces could then be integrated with other isolated pieces, providing the opportunity for new, original, compositions to be created (Smith, 76). As Smith (2000) states, ÒThe development of the break-beat was groundbreaking as it forced musicians to question the concrete nature of a musical textÓ
When Kool Herc started throwing parties in the Bronx in 1973, New YorkÕs youths were shifting their attention away from the gang era that dominated the boroughs throughout the 60Õs and focusing on personal projections of flash and style (Chang, 73). The parties, the DJÕs, and the music present at HercÕs parties brought people together and allowed opportunities for creating and projecting identities. In an interview, Jeff Chang discusses the role of the party:
So,
you know, when you get to the party, it's all about your style, what you
wear. Can you rap? Can you dance? All those kinds of things are what, you
know, will make you your name in that borough. And so style is the thing that drives hip-hop, when you
really get down to it (Gordon, 2005).
In a recent National Public Radio interview with Terry Gross, traces of Clive CampbellÕs Jamaican origins can just barely be heard underneath his Bronx accent. In his own words, he says he Òdominated the 70Õs,Ó that he was the ÒGeorge Washington of Hip HopÓ and he moved from the street parties into the clubs, playing for adult crowds (Gross, 2005). Herc and his sidekick, Coke, were tearinÕ it up, but the arrival of new DJÕs on the scene influenced HercÕs reign over the Bronx. Grandmaster Flash and his Casanova crew and Afrika Bambaataa with his Zulu Nation were starting to come up in the Bronx (Chang, 83). In the midst of preparing for a show, one night, Herc noticed his buddy Mike being hassled. He went to mediate a situation and instead, he was stabbed several times in his side and once in his hand (Chang, 85). Campbell claims he never left the Hip Hop scene, though he admits that he did retreat, a little bit, after being stabbed and that he was almost swept up by the surge of drugs brought in by the eighties (Gross, 2005).
Clive
Campbell, a.k.a .CLYDE AS KOOL, a.k.a. KOOL HERC, a.k.a. Òthe man with the
plan,Ó the father of hip-hop, is still mixinÕ it up these days, mostly in
Europe and Australia (Gross, 2005).
When Terry Gross asks what records heÕs buying these days, Kool Herc
still doesnÕt give it up, keeps it underground, only saying, ÒGood stuff they
donÕt play on the radio.Ó
ÒWhoÕs the man with the
master plan from the land of gracie grace. Herc Herc.Ó
-Dickey
References
Brown, E. (2003, April 7). A
Beat That Goes On: In a single sample, the story of hip hop.
New York Magazine. Retrieved October 6, 2006 from: http://nymag.com/nymetro/news/anniversary/35th/n_8585/index.html
Chang, J. (2005). CanÕt Stop
WonÕt Stop: A History of the Hip-Hop Generation. St.
MartinÕs Press: New York.
Davey D. (1989) Interview w/ DJ Kool Herc. Retrieved October 6, 2006, from: http://www.djhistory.com/djhistory/archiveInterviewDisplay.php?interview_id=2 3
Kool Herc (1955-) Retrieved October 6, 2006, from: http://www.jahsonic.com/KoolHerc.html
Gordon, E. (2005, March 10). Jeff Chang on his book about the
history of hip-hop. National Public Radio
Gross, T. (2005, March 30). Kool Herc: A Founding Father of Hip Hop.
Fresh
Air from WHYY. Retrieved October 6, 2006,
from: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4567450
Matos, M. (2005, April 19). All Roads Lead To
Apache. Retrieved October 6, 2006, from:
http://soul-sides.com/2005/04/all-roads-lead-to-apache.html
Smith, S. (2000, August). Compositional strategies of the hip-hop Turntablist. Organized Sound, 5 (2), 75- 79.
Youngquist, P. (2005, April). The Afro Futurism of DJ Vassa, Paul Youngquist
European Romantic Review, 16, (2), 181Ð192.