Living outside the box
can be a lonely existence. Some do so by
choice, usually as a way to distinguish themselves from the pack. That kind of pretentious facade is usually nothing
more than an elaborate ruse. Much harder
to figure out is the authentically odd duck, that rare kind of weirdo who is,
quite simply, being himself. Such an individual
has an especially hard row to hoe, seeing as how people tend to roundly dismiss
anything they can’t easily categorize.
J-Zone has always been
the proverbial odd duck, and that suits him just fine. He represents a corner of the Hip-Hop
experience that is rarely acknowledged or exposed. He was one of many “indie” rappers who came
to prominence in the late 1990’s and early 2000’s. His quirky, self-styled brand of rap music
allowed him to cultivate a small but loyal following and traveling the
world. None the less, he opted for an
early retirement and decided to re-enter the workforce. His experiences as a recording artist have
culminated in his latest endeavor, the frequently hilarious and oddly touching
book ‘Root for the Villain: Rap, Bullshit, and a Celebration of Failure.’
He agreed to take a
break from recording the audio version of his book on cassette tape (Yeah, you
heard that right), and give the world some insight into the enigma that is
J-Zone. During our interview, I found
him to be something of a kindred spirit.
I suspect I will not be alone in that.
Scott “Tre” Wilson:
Rap fans seem to have a very hard time embracing anything out of the ordinary
or off the beaten path. Do you think
that’s the result of media influence, or do you think that people are
inherently narrow-minded?
J-Zone: I think
part of it is that a lot of people don’t have the capacity to think for
themselves. They just don’t have the time.
Forming an opinion is hard work. I’ve
actually heard people say that when people listen to music, they don’t want to
think. They don’t want to absorb too
much. A lot of times people listen to
music when they’re running, or in their car, or doing laundry or whatever. So stuff that isn’t that deep or profound has
a tendency to be easier to digest. I
guess people who are in charge of marketing and media try to push that stuff
because simplicity sells. But even if you’re
doing something that’s different, you’re always going to have a little trouble
unless you can find a niche. I also
think that media, DJ’s, taste-makers, and journalists should take more chances
instead of trying to cater to what’s already popular. They should try to break
new ground, which is what the job of DJ’s and media is. People might open up to stuff. In general, a lot of times when it comes to
entertainment, people like their entertainment to be simple. Anything that’s not super-duper simple or
dumbed down is a little bit of a harder sell.
Scott “Tre” Wilson:
Your influences seem to include a lot of obscure artists and albums. Do you consciously try to avoid things that
are popular or mainstream, or do you simply listen to what you like?
J-Zone: I listen
to what I like. This morning I was doing
push-ups, listening to The Chronic,
which is one of the most popular Hip-Hop albums of all time. Last night I was listening to Baritone Tiplove,
which was a cassette only release from 1991.
To me, good music is good music.
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Baritone Tiplove |
On the other side of the token, I was in the indie Hip-Hop
thing for a while, and that quadrant of the music business is just as elitist
as people in the mainstream. As soon as
you sell 15 units, you have people who think you’re officially no longer
cutting edge, because somebody else likes you besides you and your five boys.
I’m a record collector.
When you look at record collecting, people get into it for sampling for
beats and stuff like that. You can’t go
out looking for Stark Reality records and not know James Brown, because
everybody has James Brown and they’re not that obscure and everybody knows it. That’s the foundation: Kool & the Gang,
James Brown, The Meters, The Ohio Players, Parliament. That’s the foundation of digging. It’s just as irritating when people go for
rarities solely because they’re rare, but I just happen to like
everything. A lot of stuff I happen to
like is an acquired taste. Everything
about me is an acquired taste. When you
embrace a lot of music that’s an acquired taste, by default, a lot of it Is going
to be music that a lot of people didn’t like, or that a very small percentage
of people were exposed to. So I just
appreciate a wide variety of things, and I just like a lot of stuff that’s very
niche market. In turn, a lot of that
shit is obscure, and when I like it I pursue it.
Scott “Tre” Wilson:
A lot of mainstream rappers go to great lengths to create and maintain their
public image. Was your image as a rapper
painstakingly calculated or did you make it up as you went along?
J-Zone:
Everything was made up as I went along. My
problem was, I had a persona but I didn’t go to great lengths to do it. I was known for giving interviews and saying
shit and people would be like “what the fuck did he just say? I didn’t expect him to say shit like that.” It wasn’t totally calculated. When I started out, all my stuff was very
self-deprecating, but halfway through my career I said “You know, I want to
talk some shit. I’m always talking about
being the whipping boy and saying ‘woe is me’ in a funny way, but I’m just going
to flip it on ‘em and get real arrogant, because I feel like being arrogant.” A lot of people didn’t like that, but
everybody is dual-natured. We all
contradict ourselves every day. We have
this ambiguous behavior.
People didn’t know what to make of it (My behavior), so
because of that it was hard to pigeonhole.
It was very hard to categorize. Some
people pigeonholed me as kind of like this novelty thing, like comedy rap. People were like “He’s very serious about his
production craft, but he’s a goofball as an artist.” They didn’t know where to put me. In terms of that, my image was kind of all
over the place. The only common ground
was that it was comedy. I was known for
being funny, but then I would switch it up.
I was influenced by Prince Paul, but I was also influenced by Tweety
Bird Loc, Eazy-E, Tim Dog, De La Soul, A Tribe Called Quest, Geto Boys, 2 Live
Crew, X-Clan, and Kid N Play. I took a
little piece of everything. So when you
do that, your image tends to be a mixture of all those things. Unless you were exposed to that wide variety
of artists, you’re going to be like “What the fuck is this?” I think that’s what happened to me, at least
on the music side. I was hard to
categorize and that got me in a lot of trouble.
![]() |
The infamous Tim Dog |
Scott “Tre” Wilson: During
your career as a rapper did you find that so-called underground rap fans were
any more intelligent and open-minded than mainstream rap fans or is that just a
myth?
J-Zone: That’s a
myth. That’s definitely a myth. A lot of people were underground for the sake
of being in something different. A lot of
people would just say, “Oh he’s on major label, I don’t want to listen to him. He’s a sell-out.” I was like, “You don’t know that.” There was plenty of underground CD’s that
were garbage. There was major label
garbage, but there was also good major label shit and good underground shit. To me, music was music.
I wasn’t underground just because. I was sampling my ass off, so there was no
way I could put out any of that shit on a major without fucking getting put
under the jail. On top of that, the
subject matter was all over the place. I
remember I had Atlantic Records showing some interest in me early in my career and
they were like “We love your album. Its
comedic genius but you have to make some songs for the club.” I was like, well, what does that mean?! Picture me making a record about the
club. If I make a record for the club, to
me that means I’m popping bottles, I dance, I break my ankle and I’m home
jerking off at the end of the night because I broke my ankle and can’t dance
and can’t pull no chicks. To me that’s a
club record (Laughs). They’re like “Nah
man, we can’t play no records with you jerking off and put that shit on the
radio.” So in turn, I was
underground. So it’s not I came out with
the intent of saying “No, I’m too underground.”
I just did whatever came naturally.
I had records that could have been on commercial radio if they had given
it a shot. I had records that had an ice
cubes chance under a fat girl’s ass that anybody would play that shit during
the day. So I just say music is music
and I like everything.
There are ignorant
motherfuckers on both sides. There were
people like “Yo, you disappointed me when you said your favorite rapper is
Sugar Free.” I was like, Why not? Sugar Free is great! The typical underground rap fan in New York
doesn’t listen to Sugar Free. I just
know what I like when I hear it. I don’t
think underground rap fans are any more or less intelligent than mainstream rap
fans. Maybe they’re less easily swayed because
they seek stuff out, but even then, an underground tastemaker says “Yeah, you
should like this” and they will like it.
People like whatever a blog tells them to like. A lot of times people just don’t seek shit
out. Whether it’s an underground blog
with 300 followers or a mainstream blog with 3 million followers, If they say
“Yo, this is a record that you should like” and then you go and like it because
they do, then it doesn’t matter whether it’s underground or mainstream. Bottom line is you can’t make up your own
mind about what you want to listen to.
Scott “Tre” Wilson:
Do you think that Hip-Hop adequately addresses all aspects of its fanbase? Do you think there’s a particular type of
Hip-Hop fan that isn’t being addressed or represented?
J-Zone: No, I
don’t believe Hip-Hop addresses its entire fanbase. After a while, I felt I was the type of
Hip-Hop fan that wasn’t being addressed.
That’s why I made records that were in their own little niche. I look at myself, and I have friends who are
similar to me. I’m a native New
Yorker. I’m a Black guy. They have stereotypes of what you’re supposed
to do as an adult young Black male. What
you’re supposed to listen to, what you’re supposed to watch. I’m a 34 year old Black male and New York
native who’s educated and intelligent, but at the same time, when I’m in my car
riding around with a girl I’m listening to Tim Dog. I don’t listen to Luther Vandross in the
car. I love Luther Vandross, but I
listen to Tim Dog when I’m riding around in the car on a date. I’m 34 years old and I have a Gumby
haircut. Why not?! I still have a full
head of hair, I take advantage. So you
go around people and they wonder what to make of you.
I live in Jamaica, Queens, which is a predominantly Black
neighborhood. Trying to talk to women
over here, they think I’m too eccentric.
They’re like “You’re too quirky, you’re too weird.” But if I go into the city and get around some
of the more artsy crowd, some girls have told me “You’re kind of hood for me. You’re kind of Hip-Hoppy and kind of Hood.” So it’s like I’m too hood for this and too
nerdy for this. So I don’t fit in
anywhere. In recent years I haven’t
heard as much stuff that speaks to a person like that. I remember growing up, that void was filled
by acts like Digital Underground. They
kind of walked the line and hit everything.
They had a whole album with this Sex
Packets ideology where it’s like fantasies, and they’re talking about wet
dreams and jerking off. It’s kind of
like nerdy, quirky shit. But then the
beats were hard. They were from Oakland and
they were funky. When you were growing
up, that kind of music shows you that it’s okay not to fall into a stereotype. That it’s okay to not fit into expectations
based upon your age, your ethnicity, your level of class, your location, or
education. Things you’re supposed to
like and do. I’m not saying there’s not
stuff out there like that right now, because I’m not that entrenched in what’s
going on. When I was making my records,
I didn’t hear that much stuff, especially on a mainstream level, about that.
I would think people would look at entertainment as
something they could relate to, but in recent years I’ve found that people look
at entertainment as something to distract themselves from their own personal
misery. People watch these horrible
reality shows on TV to get their mind off of their everyday bullshit. I worked in a high school where 90% of the
kids were in poverty and they liked to listen to people rap about Maybachs and making
all this money. That’s nothing they can
relate to, but maybe they don’t want to hear about being broke. I’m the opposite. I like to hear music that speaks to me. I just think they don’t want to hear music
that speaks to them. They want to hear
fantasy stuff. I think they want to be
distracted from their reality. If you’re
poor and you lost your job, maybe you want to hear about people balling. I don’t know, I’m just guessing. To me it seems like a lot people really don’t
want to hear what they can relate to. Kids
especially, live vicariously through the artist. That could be an explanation.
Scott “Tre” Wilson:
Do you think that people who prefer sample based production to synthesized
production are behind the times and/or curmudgeons, or do you think that sample
based bears are inherently better than synthesizer beats?
J-Zone: Well, the
answer to the first part of the question is Hell fucking no! It’s basically saying do you like your grits
with sugar, or do you like your grits with salt and butter? That’s really it. Some people prefer a cleaner sound. Some
prefer live instrumentation, and some prefer sampling. I like both.
I like Ant Banks, who plays a lot of stuff. The Bomb Squad from Public Enemy, who are
sampled based, are my favorite producers.
I much prefer sample based because that’s how I learned how to make
beats. I’m such a fan of 60’s and 70’s
funk that I’m a sucker for a good chopped up sample and some crazy drum
breaks. I prefer that. Being completely subjective, I say sampling
wins. So does liking live
instrumentation better than sampling mean that you’re wrong? No.
Does liking sampling production mean that you’re behind the times? Hell fucking no! It can’t be!
How could it be when 90% of the classic Hip-Hop records were samples? If that’s the case then we have to rewrite
history. So I definitely don’t think you
can be a curmudgeon for that. It’s just a
matter of taste.
Scott “Tre” Wilson: In Your book, you talk about the impact that
video shows like Yo! MTV Raps had on
you as a child. Do you think that being initially
exposed to Hip-Hop through television affected your perception of it? Do you think that makes you different from
the guys in the 70’s and 80’s who were exposed to it primarily through block
parties and 12 inches?
J-Zone: I don’t
think either one is better than the other.
At the end of the day, when they were doing those block parties I was
three years old. So what could I
do? It’s not like I had a way to go
there and watch it. I just think it’s a
different experience. I think watching
it, absorbing it through videos and TV, I think eventually you’re in for a
little more of a shock because you have to learn stuff first-hand. A lot of stuff was violent. At Hip-Hop shows fights would break out. There would be beef between artists. A lot of times an artist’s persona was
totally different than how an artist was in real life. So if you have a front row seat to it, you
can kind of see it and your view of it is a little better.
When I started getting into the music business, I started
working with people. In the videos, a
lot of people got Benzes and Beamers and shit.
Then you meet them and they’re doing landscaping jobs to pay their
rent. There’s nothing wrong with that,
but you kind of have to learn. I think
it’s more of shock. You kind of have to decide
to actually enter the music business to find out. The learning process is a
little more of shock, because you can only absorb but so much from
television. Whereas if you’re at a show,
you can see what’s going down. So I
learned a little bit later, and in turn it was more of a shock to me. Like “Okay, this guy’s persona is like a
tough guy, but he’s really full of shit.
Okay, this guy is rapping about being in a club and he’s singing to the
chicks and being soft, but I just saw him knock somebody out for no apparent
reason. Okay. I’m learning how this works.” So I think it’s just a different method of
absorption. As you get older and decide
to enter the music business you get to see a lot of it face to face, and at
first it will scare the shit out of you.
Scott “Tre” Wilson:
You did a bit of traveling in your career as a rapper. What’s the main difference between how
Hip-Hop is viewed in America and how Hip-Hop is viewed abroad?
J-Zone: In my
experience, when I went overseas, the fans were still fans. That shocked the fuck out of me, because here
we take stuff for granted because it’s readily available. I was performing in New York twice a
month. So after a while, it’s like, who
gives a fuck? He’s from New York. During my career, everybody in New York was
trying to rap. So after a while you’re
performing for your peers. You get off
stage, and instead of people asking “Where can I buy your CD?” or “Yo, can you
sign my CD?” They’re saying “Nigga, let me give you my CD.” When you go overseas, I just felt like there
was a greater appreciation for we were doing.
We went all the way out there. We
were working hard and pushing our stuff.
I didn’t feel like I was performing for competition. I was performing
for fans.
When I would go to Hip-Hop shows, yeah I made beats. Yeah, I had a beat tape in my back
pocket. Yeah, I had a business
card. Of course I had records in the
trunk. But when I came to see EPMD at
Tramps, right after my first album came out, I went to see EPMD at Tramps. I didn’t go up to DJ Scratch like “Yo, I’m
J-Zone! Check out my record!” I went as an EPMD fan because I had been an
EPMD fan for ten years. I felt like a majority
of the time when I performed in the states, a lot of people in the crowd, especially
in major cities, were guys who are trying to get on themselves. Not only could you not make any money, but
you just couldn’t feel the appreciation.
In America we just don’t have enough appreciation for the
arts. In other countries the government
will dole out money to bring people there to perform. They’ll sanction festivals and stuff like
that. I just think that here in the
states, because so many musicians are from here, we kind of take it for
granted. There’s not a lot of emphasis
placed on the arts. Arts are being taken
out of the schools. Schools are always
cutting music and athletics. I feel like
it’s not as valued here as it was overseas, and because of that, my experience
as an artist overseas was a lot better.
Scott “Tre” Wilson:
Do you think that being an only child had an impact on your work? If so, what impact did it have?
J-Zone: It definitely
had an impact on my work. When you’re
young and you don’t have an older brother to show you the ropes, you’re kind of
an outsider. My parents divorced when I
was six. My father was around, but I was
in a single parent household. I would
stay with my grandparents from time to time.
I was always the youngest one amongst adults. So I kind of had to learn how to grow up a little
quicker in terms of maturity and do things on my own. I would get home from school and my mom didn’t
get home until 10. It’s four o’ clock and
I’m hungry. I’ve got to go find some
money and get something to eat. Go get
some kind of job or something and get something to eat. So I think it affected my business acumen. Take, for instance, my first album. I finished the album. I played it for some people. Nobody bit, so I put it out myself. Now people want to offer me a record
deal. With the book, I had an agent work
my book. Everybody liked it, but they
all said “Oh, he doesn’t have a big enough fanbase.” So I pressed it myself. A lot of people are like “Why don’t you just
wait for another publisher or send it to this guy.” My whole approach is rooted in being an only
child. My mom ain’t home, so I got to
get something to eat. Okay I finished
the book, so why am I going to sit around?
I always had to fend for myself, so I feel like I took that theory and brought
it into my music.
![]() |
J-Zone's first album, Music For Tu Madre. |
, being an only child your imagination starts to run
wild. So I imagine that I’m a little
more eccentric than the average cat because I didn’t have an older brother beat
my ass every day to kind of keep me grounded, so I had imaginary friends. I would draw fictional album covers with me
on them with a big fro or a high top fade, playing an instrument or cutting up
turntables. That quirkiness came from
being an only child because there was no one around me saying “Yo, you’re doing
that weirdo shit, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Nobody was around me to stop me from being a
space cadet. So when I started making
music, I would play stuff that sounded normal to me for people and they were
like “Yo, you’re fucking bugging, what the fuck are you talking about? Why are you talking about jerking off on a
record?” I was like “Yeah, because when
I was in High School I was jerking off, what the fuck?!” So a lot of that eccentricity was rooted in
being an only child. Most kids have an
older brother to slap them into shape. I
was bored, my mind would start wandering and I would start doing bugged out
shit. In terms of being self-sufficient,
when you got nobody to help you and you’re on your own, you’re not going to sit
around and wait, you’re going to go. I think
it helped me from a business stand point and I think it definitely influenced
me being kind of eccentric with my art.
Scott “Tre” Wilson:
If you could get Doc Brown’s time traveling DeLorean from Back to the Future and go back in time, what rapper would you erase
from existence?
J-Zone: There are
rappers that I just thought plain sucked.
Obviously I think a lot of the shit that’s coming out now is just plain
terrible, and a lot of that is just my age.
This whole Kreayshawn, V-nasty thing, those two bitches I would go back
and make sure there was no fucking going on that night! There’d be no sex in the champagne room! I’ve heard bad shit. You hear a Souljah Boy record and you’re like
“Oh that’s kind of bad,” But you give it a pass because it’s not for my
generation. It’s for the youth. But those two bitches? That shit ain’t for nobody! I could bend far enough to say, Okay, my twelve
year old cousin, Souljah Boy’s for him, therefore it’s not deplorable. I don’t like it, but I’m not in a position to
snap on it because I’m older and just in a different spot. I have no problem with Lil Wayne even though I
don’t listen to him. I don’t have a
problem with Drake. That’s just not my generation. But Kreayshawn and V-Nasty, those two bitches? I was like, somebodies gotta be beat down for
that. Not even so much for this white
girl saying nigga every other word. What
bothers me the most is that it’s just so fucking bad! It’s getting hits just because it’s bad. It almost makes me feel like if you come out
and you’re just exceptionally bad you’ll get hits. It’s almost like the reverse theory, like “Let
me see how shitty I can be to get hits.”
Some A&R will definitely sign that shit. You’ll get hits. So I would make sure that they were taken out
of here, like completely wiped out.
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