|
Home: K : Kj-52 : Biography
Biography (courtesy
of Uprok Records)
"I don't want to just be a great MC. I want to create
songs that can touch lives. I've made an effort to be studied
and careful in order to hear my audience's heartbeat and
respond to it. I'm not just motivated by my own instincts
anymore; rather, I want to write to my audience."—KJ-52
KJ-52 is a rare find in today's Christian
hip hop world. A white MC who has risen to prominence in
a largely black arena, he is at once a respectful student
of the art form and a genuine hip hop innovator, stretching
the boundaries of both its sound and shape. And regardless
of where he's working—from churches and huge Christian festivals
like Festival Con Dios 2003 to the heart of the hip hop club
scene, KJ can hold his own, with ease, against the best rappers
in the business. Indeed, there's nothing that smacks of the
poseur in KJ; rather, everything about his work screams "the
real deal."
This credibility has served to open
doors for KJ-52—to
media, to his peers and to his fans-and KJ has met this opportunity
with purpose. This sense of mission, more than anything else,
is what sets KJ apart from the pack, driving his commitment
to both grow as an artist and to use that art to communicate
something of the good news of Christ's gospel to his audience.
This passion for great art and true
ministry is aptly displayed in KJ-52's new release It's
Pronounced Five-Two, a cutting-edge 16-song set that perfectly
captures the range that this extraordinary MC brings to
his music. From wildly self-effacing humor and celebrations
of forgiveness to deadly serious reflections on subjects
like divorce and suicide, KJ has found both a way to make
his music at once unquestionably accessible while allowing
it to offer profound insights into life and, most importantly,
faith. This combination positions It's Pronounced Five-Two
to become among the most important—and biggest
selling—hip hop releases of the year.
Perhaps KJ's strongest asset, apart
from the obvious compassion for his audience that drives
his music, is the absolute respect (and delight) he brings
to the hip hop form. KJ is clearly a student of the genre
who has found a way to integrate the best of its various
roots, while crafting something that is genuinely groundbreaking.
There's a near reverence in KJ when he talks about his
place as a rapper in the hip hop pantheon. "Hip hop is a black house," he explains, "and
I'm a guest in it. It's more than just an art form, it's
a culture, and I'm humbled to get to be a part of it."
It's Pronounced Five-Two is reflective
not only of KJ's respect for the form, but also his significant
maturation as a practitioner of it. The song structures
on this new disc suggest a growing respect for the melodic
and musical, wrapping KJ's sharp rhymes around eminently
memorable (and frequently hummable) hooks and over an infectious
collection of beats. Co-produced with former Gotee Brother
Todd Collins, some of the disc's tracks, like the smoothly
memorable and affably nostalgic "Back In The Day," slide into
a slow simmering groove that smack of late summer afternoons
by the grill, while others—like the effervescent and
playful "Check Yourself" and riotous "Rock
On" (with Rob Beckley, Pillar frontman)—approach
a more manic flow, drawing on the sharp, staccato rhythms
of both the cutting edges of hip hop and rock culture and
the playful good humor of some of rap's early radio breakthroughs
(which calls to mind early Beastie Boys work, as well as
more recent work by bands like Linkin Park and, yes, Eminem).
"Pick Yourself Up," (with Donnie Lewis) meanwhile,
is a real world song of encouragement to listeners who in
one way or another have fallen off the straight and narrow,
reminding KJ's audience of the ancient biblical truth that "his
mercies endureth forever"—but in a far more modern
cadence akin to the sonic smoothness of the Nelly/Kelly Rowlands
duet. But however radio-friendly these tracks might be, there
is also enough "street cred" on It's Pronounced
Five-Two to keep the hard core purists convinced of the disc's
authenticity.
This growing thoughtfulness—and selflessness—has
led KJ to a lyrical approach that is always sophisticated,
at times whimsical, and decidedly kind-hearted, reflecting
an approach to writing that is clearly motivated by his interactions
with his growing fan base. While reluctant to impose a specific "agenda" on
his artistic expressions, it is clear that KJ's intent is
always to encourage, edify and challenge. In short, KJ has
come to understand that an artist's first goal is to serve-both
his music and his audience.
This commitment manifests itself throughout
this new release, disarming at first with its whimsy, and
then, just as effectively, in its penetrating insight. "I use humor is a means
to open the audience up to the more intense things in some
of my songs. After all, 70 minutes of hard core heavy hitting
on big-time issues is tough to take, at a show or on disc.
By interjecting levity into the mix—literally and figuratively—I
give us all a chance to take a deep breath. It makes the
hip hop experience much more authentic, ultimately, in the
same way that not blinking at the rougher edges of our culture
does. Mind you, you don't have to scratch very deeply, even
in the whimsical songs, to find deeply serious subject matter."
It's inevitable, too, that a young,
supremely talented rapper in 2003 who happens to be white—like KJ-52—will
be compared to that other white rapper. The towering commercial
and artistic achievements of Eminem are not to be sneezed
at, after all. And for an artist like KJ, who is aspiring
to the same level of artist excellence that Em has achieved—but
from a markedly different point of view-the comparisons certainly
could grow tiresome. And they did bother KJ for a time, but
he's come to understand that they represent a kind of high
praise for the Florida-based MC.
The comparisons have served as fertile
ground for KJ's art as well as he reflected on what he
would say to Eminem if ever he had the chance. The first
fruits of that reflection came with "Dear Slim" from last year's Collaborations—a
track that produced a veritable frenzy of media interest,
including a well-publicized, if one-sided, bit of exposure
on MTV's Total Request Live. The song is followed on It's
Pronounced Five-Two by "Dear Slim Part Two, which continues
KJ's one-sided dialogue with Slim (Em has yet to respond
to KJ's songs).
but a lot of people they just seem to get the song confused
see what I say to you I know it might even sound funny
but I never came at you just to paint you as the enemy
it wasn't about hating you or starting some controversy
it wasn't about blaming you or trying to make some money
I don't claim to know everything that you've experienced
Man I don't even know if you'll even ever be hearing this
but I said it once and I still hold to this
is that a life without Christ is still a life that is never
fixed
"The problem was," says KJ, "that people
understood 'Dear Slim' as a big diss on him, when that wasn't
my intent at all. It was really a reflection on the responsibility
of the artist, and my heart for Em, my desire that the pain
and confusion in his life—which he expresses in his
music-might find their answer in a relationship with Christ,
and that he express that to his audience instead of just
giving them back that same anguish and confusion."
In a world that is largely ego-driven, KJ-52 is a rapper
consumed by compassion for his audience. It is this commitment
to being an agent of grace in the midst of a decidedly decadent
and unyielding culture that marks It's Pronounced Five-Two
as a work of extraordinary importance.
|