The tension left with Danny. I called out, "Danny c'mon man," as he waved me off and kept walking down the street disappearing into the green light. Exhale. Through the walls, I could hear Steel rapping in the rhythm and tone of Carol of the Bells...unbelievable. His musical scope was incredible, thanks to Danny really, for all the different music he was exposing to Steel. Danny didn't know it, but I forgave him then for his outburst. This world will never understand people like Danny, they saw above the narrow paths the rest of us crawled.
"Aaaah shit! If it isn't the creator himself, hey slick, wassup pah-tna?"
It was Big Daddy Sho' 'Nuff who owned Down N' Out Studios and other nefarious businesses.
"Hey 'Nuff." Even his handshakes were high energy. Before I knew it my hand was being raped. Slap, pound, curl, snap. "One Hund'ed."
He was around since the beginning. His name had changed over the 20 years of mainstream rap. In the early nineties he had a hit, a song self-titled Big Daddy (Sure Enuff) on his self-titled album which was coincidentally his self title. His name changed as the game changed, but he always just added an aka. Full name Big Daddy Sho' 'Nuff aka the Messiah aka Money Bandit Cru aka Don Pablo aka Big $penda aka One Track King aka the Unpretender aka the CEO and in the late nineties just went by a symbol. He covered his bases. But since rap lost the cartoon characters, he just goes by Sho' 'Nuff now, although spelling may change. He wasn't respected as a rapper anymore, but remains an image of success as a business man. He got a lot of big rappers where they are today.
"My man" as he hooked me around the neck graciously and walked back into the studio. We were standing behind the engineer watching Steel listening to the next track in the booth. Maybe not listening, but processing, and I knew 'cause his eye would twitch as the RAM was over burdened, searching the catalogs of music, lyrics, and language within a complex algorithm to match to the next track. "Listen slick...(shaking his finger at Steel)...This guy's an ani-MAL," preached Sho' 'Nuff.
The engineer looked up, "more like a robot."
What d'ya mean?
"Just incredible, he's been laying tracks down one take, no writing, after he's heard the song one time. I've never seen anything like it before."
"He's good that's for sure."
"He not good, he something else, you couldn't make someone like him, " the engineer said with conviction. I played it off. "yeah..."
Sho' 'Nuff peered around to see Natasha, an adoring fan smiling from ear to ear. "Who is this lovely lady? C'mere darling Big Daddy don't bite." But he did. The engineer eyed Sho' 'Nuff and tapped his watch. "Oh, ya'll don't stop on account of me, you right you right, time is money." And Sho' 'Nuff continued the conversation with Natasha in the corner of the room, but not before pointing two fingers in my chest, "Hey slick I like what ya'll are doing out here, but remind me, we gotta talk."
Always an important man with pressing business, I never bought it, but it was charming.
"Fo' Sho' 'Nuff," I replied.
The engineer started talking as he stared at the controls. "He wasn't always like that-'Nuff. He came from a rough spot growing up. People get caught up with the flashy image, but this guy did it all with nothing, just pure drive out of hopelessness...Nuff grew up in the slums like project housing where the doors missing from break-ins, straight gutter life, single mother with 5 kids, and an older brother was mentally crazy. Nuff was one of those fresh air kids, program to bring hood kids out to the country. White folks liked him too, but was drawn to the streets. He was fearless, had older kids looking up to him including me. He didn't know then but he was ruthless too.
Old cat named Nawlins, O.G. from down south took Nuff under his wing. They called him the barber cause he was real nice with a blade, even had an eye patch which made him that much more animated to Nuff. Word was he was some bastard of the mob guys down there, and migrated up north when the Louisiana turf wars exploded. Nuff naturally fell into his camp. Nawlins had that same energy...that draw to the streets and power. He owned the local bodega and did things like let folks get food before their welfare check came in, that's when gangsters were part of the hood things were more intimate back then. But he was crazy too, one time Nawlins jacked a bus from the port authority and drove it up and down the streets just wilin' out. Anyways, Nawlins graduated Nuff to boosting and heisting, they'd find out where the dope boys spots were and jack them. That's when Nuff got his name. Guys always ask him 'you think you can do that?' and he'd respond 'sure enough' with a smile. Became his slogan after a bit.
Nawlins and Nuff eventually began to fall out, maybe because Nawlins was spending too much time in and out of Rikers and was realizing he was losing his grip since the game was changing in the early eighties. That's when crime wasn't personal anymore. You had beef, won't no talking about it or intimidation, these young cowboys would just spray your whole block. At the same time Nuff was getting into the hip hop seen that was coming up with Grandmaster Flash and DJ Herc who started looping disco beats. Word was Nawlins was calling out Nuff about making too much money on the side. His worst mistake was putting a price on Nuffs head. One early morning when Nawlins was getting his daily shave in front of the bodega by one of his boriqua chicks, Nuff slid up behind him took the shaving blade. No one knows what Nawlins said before Nuff slit his throat, some think he said 'sho' 'nuff' in disbelief that Nuff would catch dude unaware before he spilled his throat out into the street. They say two things about that day, one, that that day 'Nuff sold his soul to the Devil. And the other, it was the day Santa died because the blood mixed with the shaving cream and Nawlins looked like a dead mother fucking Santa Claus sprawled out in the street, and won't nobody getting credit before they welfare check came in anymore.
Nuff went from dope boy to b-boy, that's when me and him hooked up. We started playing parties and eventually put our grind towards making demos and sending them to the record companies. Nuff never had patience, and couldn't understand why we weren't getting call backs. He got fed up and ran into the record company office and found his way to A&R and found out it was just a guy in a sweat suit in a corner office with a box full of records. Guy said he didn't know what to call the music we were making. Took me everything I had to pull Nuff off the guy. Then finally he said fuck it, and we set up our studio right here. Anyways...
He really digs ya'll's sound, reminds me of him when he was rapping, he wasn't as lyrically gifted but it was real. Most guys come in here with their whole crew, celebrating like they already made it, and they're garbage...Steel reminds me of Sho' 'Nuff, just stands there quietly waiting, and when the mics hot, he transforms. But you know, its not about making it, its about making music. These kids out here don't get that. Their just going to get somewhere, but ya'll are just going. See wha'm sayin?"
I did. This guy was spiritual about the music. I couldn't of felt more fake at that point. But at the same time it would be nice to pay some bills too.
In the background. Sho' 'Nuff phone rings. "Cy' my man. uh huh. right...hold that."
Sho' 'Nuff walked up to the booth. "Hey ya'll we gotta wrap this up, we need to close this down for the night, aight. Hey good work, let's pick this up another time."
I signaled to Steel. We were standing outside before we knew it.
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