Scribe Opens His Rhymebook | christchurchmusic.org.nz

23rd October 2007 - Vicki Anderson, The Press

Scribe opens his Rhymebook and spends an evening feeding ducks with reporter and ((Chart)) Trustee Vicki Anderson. We're back where it all began for Malo "Scribe" Luafutu. It's Friday night, the Cathedral has just chimed 7pm in competition with a group of cymbal-clashing Hari Krishnas as we make our way to our destination – the Avon River in Victoria Square, opposite the Christchurch Town Hall.

Scribe used to rap on this bridge in his youth, where skaters owned the circular area by the sundial before the cops chased them away.

He is taller than I'd ever imagined him to be and I have to run-trot to keep up with his long, loping stride. His giant expensive-looking flip- flops make thwacking sounds.

As he saunters ("thwack, thwack") and I skip/run past the statue of Queen Victoria, a group of men call out "Hey Scribe", and "Catch up with you later, man".

No, they won't. They're not his friends; they're just people that think they know the Silver Scroll winner who made the infamous hit songs Stand Up and Not Many – the longest running Kiwi No. 1 hit on the singles chart. He's the Cantabrian who made hip-hop mainstream.

Bars are too noisy so what do you do with Canterbury's leading hip-hop star on a Friday night? Well, if you're me, you take him to feed ducks on the Avon. After all, how many dudes you know throw like this?

Still, he looks a little uncomfortable at the suggestion. He smooths his designer pants with one hand before holding out the other for his allotted quota of bread which I pass him
still in its el cheapo bread bag and he blanches visibly at the budget stamp.

I'm sure the ducks won't notice the difference.

The
Crusader sold more than 80,000 copies in New Zealand and more than 100,000 in Australia. He's a changed man from just a few short years ago and his second album, Rhymebook, is his carefully plotted return.

I haven't actually heard the album yet – only the first two singles, My Shit and Fresh, which both curiously feature horses and references to the Apocalypse. Both tracks are remarkably different from the street Scribe of old, perhaps reflecting his overwhelming success both at home and abroad. It seems he's now accustomed to a certain lifestyle that Christchurch can't sustain.

Yes, he has bought his first house – in New Brighton – and he says he considers himself a local yet he is more often to be found in Australia.

"Yeah, it's nice there. The weather's better and there's more money for me over there you know, like you can get top dollar for doing gigs. I couldn't really even play in Christchurch – people just don't have the money. Like the last five New Year's Eves, I've never played in Christchurch because I always get better offers."

I suggest that perhaps he could play here out of some sort of hometown loyalty and get a laugh in response.

As he's hurling bread into the darkened recesses of our city's river he visibly relaxes, and when an eel appears at the water's edge to sample our wares, he shouts excitedly like a little boy.

"I've never seen an eel in the Avon before," he smiles broadly, walking a little closer to offer a few more morsels.

THE NEW ALBUM

Scribe is happy with his personal diary, his Rhymebook, the result of four years of scribbling into a stack of exercise books.

"Yeah, I'm so happy. It's taken me so many years to get to the point where I'm happy."

Unlike the Crusader which was made in Auckland, half of Rhymebook was made in Christchurch.

"I had the choice, of course, of doing it in all these fancy studios – the Neil Finn studios – all these w.... studios, $1000-an-hour studios, but I'm not really comfortable in that environment.

"I'm more comfortable in the bedroom set-up. Most of the album is recorded in
bedrooms in New Brighton and Burnside which is where my producers live."

His producers – 10Acious and the Main Event – are young, up- and-comers and are, Scribe says, the reason he opted not to work with long-time producer P-Money this time around.

"P-Money, he's already a star you know and he's pretty much at the top of his game. I wanted to nurture the new talent because we lose a lot of talented producers in New Zealand to reality. They have to get jobs to pay the bills. I thought it would be a good opportunity for me to give them a chance and they really stepped up to the plate.

"It's not like we had flash mics or flash gear. It was a really ghetto set-up. I spent a lot of
money on mixing and mastering – it was mastered over in Sterling in New York. I think we just had a good time making it and we really came up with something special, I think. I've really had a lot of fun making this record compared to the last one.

"I think it was just because they're my friends and we connect on heaps of other levels than just music. We just have fun in the studio and we love hanging out with each other. Whereas me and P-Money, we were friends but we met through business, you know."

It's not a case of "when two scribes go to war" – P-Money did produce a bonus track which is only available on iTunes.

Later, we talk about a recent gig he did in Samoa. I ask if P-Money was also on the bill there and get a surprising response.

"No,
it was D-Form. He looks just like P-Money and everyone thinks it is him. He's better than P-Money actually, he's a better DJ, no shit."

Speaking of which, Scribe knew that calling a song My Shit might limit its radio life but he's not bothered.

"I
love that song. When I submitted the song the label were telling me, oh, we've got to change the name – call it Like This or My Shirt. I knew that by calling it My Shit I was jeopardising the chance of getting radio play and that has happened because 91ZM won't touch it. I wanted to stick to my guns and I did and I'm glad I did. It's still My Shit. When I heard the beat I was like 'whoa this beat is crazy'. This is my shit – this is the kind of shit I like. I tell some people I wrote My Shit on the toilet just because I'm sick of telling people about it "

He says that singles My Shit and Fresh are unlike the rest of the album and that he's getting a lot of feedback from fans hot under their red-and-black collars because they want to hear the
Crusader.

"They try to box me in. If I was still making the Crusader stuff I would quit because I wouldn't get any enjoyment. It would be boring. In saying that, there is the Crusader stuff on there because that's my old stuff. But My Shit and Fresh is really current as to what's happening in America and what's happening in hip-hop today." After hearing the beats for Fresh at 10Acious's house, Scribe laid the whole song in 10 minutes as "a kind of a joke".

SCRIBE PROVES HIS VERSATILITY

Keen to show his versatility on the album, Scribe says Rhymebook shows every facet of his personality – and it is like his personal diary.

"A lot of stuff on there is giving my fans a bit of an insight to me, not just as an emcee but as a human living on planet Earth in this crazy time. I let people know where I stand on the whole Bush administration. I just rinse him out in a song, actually, in the song called Rhymebook.

"I wanted to do a lot of different kinds of songs so in a way there's something in there for everyone. It's like a box of chocolates."

He also admits to second-album nerves.

"A lot of people are waiting to chop me down on this record so that's why I did take my time."

The bread has gone. On rolls the night and the ducks are departing, after a bit of a squabble, like the fair weather bread friends they are and I suddenly realise why Scribe looks different to me – he doesn't have his hoodie up and it makes him look nicer somehow. In his new videos he
even dons a smart suit – occasionally even a jockey's silks, complete with whip – and lets his glossy hair run free.

"I've matured," he laughs.

As you'd expect of a personal diary, loved ones feature strongly. Scribe's a proud dad – he has a son, seven, and a daughter who's 16 months old.

"One of my favourite songs on the album at the moment is Baby Girl which I wrote about my daughter. She is 16 months. She is brand new, she's the reason why it's taken this long, too, because once she was conceived, I put the whole album on hold. I spent the last year with her so then I took the brakes back off and I've been grinding this album, getting it done. It's really good motivation, having kids."

The most heartfelt lyrics on the album are: "Next thing I know I'm leaving to go and record my CD/I tell my son things will be different the next time you see me/I quickly change his nappy/he looks so playful and happy/I gotta go and catch a plane/and in the back of a taxi/as it drove away slowly, I just started to cry/'cos at that moment inside/a part of me died."

Along with Scribe's mates, the "fresh makers", Con Psy (aka David Dallas), PNC, and his cousins Ladi6 and Tyra Hammond (Open Souls), two of his idols appear on the album – his dad, John, and New York-based MC Talib Kweli.

"My dad is the reason music is in my life. Since I was very little he's put music in my life. He's a great musician and I get pretty much all my musical talent from him, so it's a dream come true to do a song with him."

His dad guests on a song called A. W.O.L. with Ladi6 which Scribe says is about how he likes to disappear sometimes.

"It's about how I wish I had anonymity and how fame kind of sucks.

"Sometimes I don't want to be in the spotlight, I just want to be me. I just cut myself off from the world. My managers go crazy sometimes, because I'm
A.W.O.L.

"People think they know me. Through my music they do know me. There are lots of times when I don't want to talk to people. I just want to put gas in my car and I just want to push my son in the swing and not have people come up to me, but that's just something that goes with the territory. I've learnt a lot to deal with it. When it first blew up with The Crusader it was actually quite scary."

Opting to use his fame for "good", Scribe donates a lot of time to children.
"I have a lot to do with the Make a Wish Foundation and I find that really rewarding. One of their wishes is to meet me. Just seeing them happy and that twinkle in their eye, I think that's why I'm supposed to do what I do."

If he wasn't a musician, he says he'd probably be working in McDonald's and he's grateful for the opportunities he has had.

"Christchurch has a very seedy underworld. I've been a part of that world as a youth,
as a troubled teen, and I've seen a lot of the dark side that this city has to offer.

"It motivated me to make something of myself. I come back and a lot of my friends are still doing the same thing.
They're not going anywhere. Their dreams have gone. Their window of opportunity has passed and so it's very sad, and that's why I say I'm lucky that I got out when I did. A lot of my friends are in jail right now, on the methadone programme, and they're the same age as me – that
so easily could have been me. There's a very thin line between making it and not making it."

When we're walking back through Victoria Square sharing a peanut slab, I ask him about the Big Day Out in Auckland in January where he was booed by the punters.

He looks sad for a moment then shrugs and smiles. He feels that he's reinvented
himself and come back for another round. He's freshened up.

"It's something that's very personal to me, this album."

He politely thanks me and says he has had an exciting time which I doubt but still, it's nice of him. He then thwack-thwacks away – home to "watch TV and sleep".

As I watch him walk away I think about the last song on the album – a track called the Return of the King. He's back and, with his heart on his hoodie, the real Scribe finally stands up.

Scribe's Rhymebook is out now.