This interview was conducted November, 1993.
The night had been ridden with violence, but that was to be expected. Big venues are always like that — the larger the crowd, the more conflicts that arise. Therefore, it came as no suprise to me that fights had been erupting all throughout the night among the crowd of thousands at the spacious Santa Clara County Fairgrounds. On the bill: a host of Bay Area artists, W.C. and the MAAD Circle (W.C. has now gone solo), 2nd II None, and the headliner, Ice Cube. Despite the formidable security present, it was not an easy night to perform , especially for 2nd II None whose set was interrupted repeatedly by flying debris, periodic fighting, and a near stampede close to center stage. And although they were not the targets of thrown objects, W.C. and the MAAD Circle did not have much more of an easy time — at least two fights broke out while they held the stage. Even the eventual presence of the San Jose Police Department did little to stem the tide of violence. The adrenalin fueled crowd seemed nearly unstoppable — that is, until one lone man took the stage, one man whose commanding words alone did more to cease the violence than the San Jose Police Department and an entire security force could do. How the sheer weight of Ice Cube's words could calm such an out of control crowd left me awestruck. Very few artists have such overwhelming respect, such a high level of regard. Even fewer artists have such a dramatic impact on today's society. I'm speaking of O'Shea Jackson, aka Ice Cube — "The Nigga You Love to Hate," The Predator." "I think everybody knows that Cube comes from the heart and that I'm not going to sell a muthafucka out, and I'm not going to sell myself out," says Cube. "When the devils come with their shit, I don't shake and quiver. People think of different things when they hear 'Horny Lil' Devil' or 'I Wanna Kill Sam.' I tell everyone the real deal, and they respect that in me. I bring light to them in that way, and they say Cube is a person who has taught me something through the music. I kind of give them a service that school doesn't provide 'cause school doesn't want to be straight-up and real with the kids." |
Randy's mom decided to send him to the school in the Valley, which created a problem. Cube didn't want to be seperated from his road dog. So Randy'm mother talked with Cube's mom, and it was eventually decided that Cube too would go to this "dream" school in the predominantly white, middle class Valley. However, everyone's expectations were to be quickly shattered. "We had to get up at like six in the morning and get on the bus; it was like thirty minutes away. So we get
there — we're in the seventh grade, we think we can go out there with all these white boys and tear shit up — and there's niggas there from ever set. They had bussed in niggas from our hood, niggas from the East Side, they bussed niggas from everywhere. It was crazier than going to like a Henry Clay which only had a certain number of neighborhoods there. This school had neighborhoods bussed in from everywhere. There were Bloods and Crips so the school had a lot of mayhem. The shit was crazy! I remember the principal having an assembly saying 'You are the worst seventh graders ever.' Then they had another one next year: 'You are the worst eigth graders.' They had to close the school." Ice Cube's family was also instrumental in his intense interest in music, keeping him supplied with endless doses of the funk courtesy of artists like Parliament, Funkadelic, Rick James, and James Brown. It was therefore not surprising that when Cube heard his first rap song, he was hooked. "My uncle had a tape of Sugar Hill, 'Rapper's Delight,' and I was on my way to the dentist. His car didn't have a stereo because someone had stolen it, so he had a radio instead. I was holding his radio, and we were listening to all kinds of shit. I used to be on his dick because he had the long version of 'Aqua Boogie.' I was listening to that, and I would keep rewinding it so he was like, 'Just let it play.' I let the shit play and this rap song came on. The fucking shit blew my mind. I listened to that shit the whole way to the dentist, I thought about it while I was at the dentist, left the dentist playing the song, and I wanted to borrow the tape." In 1979 when "Rapper's Delight" was released, Cube was but ten-years old, but rap was already embedded in his soul. However, it was not until 1983 that he tried his own hand at rhyming. Cube tells the story: "I had been a rap fan, but I had never thought about doing it. Me and this dude named Kiddo were in typing class. We used to be in class talking, trying to learn how to type. One day we were talking about rap and he said, 'Did you get the new Run-D.M.C.?' — I think it was 'Sucker MCs.' He said, 'Have you ever tried to write a rap?' I said no, so he said, 'Let's try to write one. You write one and I'll write one, and we'll see which one comes out the best.' I wrote mine, he wrote his. From then on I never stopped." So what was Cube doing between his first rhyme and his first appearance on vinyl? "Just trying to get my skills together," says Cube. "We used to be in Sir Jinx's garage — his mom wouldn't tolerate the music — and he had a dog who lived in the garage. The dog would shit in the garage; we'd be in there smelling dog shit, stepping over dog shit, rapping in the garage." While Cube and Sir Jinx were highstepping in a garage, a local DJ named Dr. Dre — who also happens to be Jinx's cousin — was exploding on the streets of L.A.with a cut called "Surgery." Cube was anxious to meet the rising celebrity, and one day he saw his opportunity at a local dance that Dre was throwing. "Dre had heard me rap so he was like, 'Let me hear what you got.'" When Cube kicked his rhyme, the two immediately cliqued. But even then, he was surprised when Dre asked him to ride along with him to the store. "I was lime, oh shit! I'm gonna hook up with Dre!" exclaims Cube. It was also at one of his many parties that Dre suggested to Cube, "Why don't you perform? "We had never performed in front of a live audience," says Cube, "so I said, 'What kind of shit do you want?' He said, 'People like shit that is funny, and people like shit with a little bit of cursing in it.' 'Roxanne Roxanne' was out back then so I said why don't we do a parody of that? We did a song called 'Diane Diane.' We changed it around and put cursing in it. We tore the place up; they loved that shit." From then on, the bond between Cube and his new mentor tightened. "I used to ditch school and run around the corner. He'd pick me up," remembers Cube. "I'd roll with him the whole day, hanging." After a brief stint with a group called the Stereo Crew and a song titled "She's A Skag," Ice Cube's association with Dr. Dre, along with Sir Jinx and Kid Disaster (who later changed his name to K-Dee and appeared on Lethal Injection and released his own solo project), culminated in an underground piece of vinyl with a group called the C.I.A. crew (Cru In Action). Together they released three songs: "My Posse," "Jus 4 the Cash $," and "Ill-Legal" — all of which are not exactly Cube's pride and joy. "That shit...We were out there on that shit," chuckles Cube. It was around this time that Cube was introduced to a Compton ex-drug dealer named Eric (he wasn't Eazy then) by Dr. Dre who knew him through doing parties. Eric, who was with a crew from New York called H.B.O. (Homeboys Only) at the time, wanted Ice Cube |
to write a song for his group. But when Ice Cube came up with "The Boyz-N-the Hood," H.B.O. was less than pleased. They didn't want to rap about something so West Coast oriented. So with a full song written and no one to rap it, Dre suggested that Eirc himself do the song. But Eric was hesitant. He had never rapped, and he didn't even have a name to rap under. It took much persuasion by Dre and Cube to convince Eazy (who now had a name, thanks to Cube), but finally he consented to doing it and they hit the studio. "It took forever to do that record. Nigga was in the studio for days, trying to do some lyrics," laughs Cube. "The Boyz-N-the Hood" went over so well that it was decided to do an all star record featuring Ice Cube from C.I.A., Dr. Dre from the World Class Wreckin' Cru, and Eazy E. The results were "Dope Man" and "8-Ball" — nothing less than classics. The saga of N.W.A. had begun. After N.W.A. finished recording "Dope Man" and "8-Ball," Cube departed south to pursue a one year course in drafting at the Phoenix Institute of Technology. In September of 1988 Cube left with diploma in hand and headed back to L.A. There were more masterpieces yet to create, and create they did. The first project was a solo album by Eazy E, of which Cube wrote at least half. Then in February of 1989, with the addition of Eazy's homeboy from Compton — MC Ren — and DJ Yella from the World Class Wreckin' Cru, came N.W.A.'s debut LP Straight Outta Compton, of which Cube wrote forty-five percent. The album was an immediate smash. By the time N.W.A. was ready to embark on a fifty city tour, the album had alrwady sold 750,000 copies and was on its way to platinum sales. Everything seemed as if it could get no better, but in reality it was the beginning of a myriad of troubles for Cube. It was while on tour that things went sour for Cube and N.W.A. During a stopover in Phoenix, Jerry Heller, N.W.A.'s manager, approached each member of the group, promising a $75,000 check for everyone who signed his contract. The lure of quick money was too powerful and everyone signed, but Cube, rather than rushing into a hurried decision, decided that it would be best to have a lawyer look at the contract first. So Cube hired an accountant and a lawyer, and what they found was staggering. Out of the $650,000 the tour had grossed, Jerry Heller had kept $130,000 while Cube made a mere $23,000. Straight Outta Compton and Eazy-Duz-It, both of which Cube had written approximately half, had sold a combined three million records. Cube took home only $32,000 for those efforts. To make matters worse, there was also a contract dispute. He had signed a contract with Ruhtless Records, but unbeknownst to Cube, he had never officially signed with N.W.A. Jerry Heller had been swindling him. When Ice Cube made the painful decision to leave N.W.A., it shocked the music world. Rumors of dissidence within the group abounded, and the media had a field day. But contrary to popular belief, be held no ill will against his fellow N.W.A. members. His beef was with their manager Jerry Heller. It was not until Heller began spreading his version of why Cube left the group (he claimed Cube was jealous of Eazy's talent) that all friendly relations between them stopped and the cold war began. "I was like fuck it! I'm going to go solo," says Cube. "Everybody was like, Go ahead nigga. Be like Arabian Prince. I was a joke. Them muthafuckas had jokes for me."
The 1993 Ice Cube has matured much since his departure from N.W.A. in 1989. The jokes have long since been silenced. He has now sold a combined total of six million records, is married with children, owns his own record comapny, and is ready to release his fourth full-length solo LP: Lethal Injection. Plans are even in the works for a reunon album with Dr. Dre titled Helter Skelter. "After he got away from that other clown, he was back to the old Dre," says Cube. "We sat down and talked. Us hooking up was like...Have you ever jumped in a cold pool? You stick your foot in first to test the water, but once you get in you're cool. We weren't trying to bullshit each other. He was the same muthafucka I had met, and I was the same muthafucka he had met. We just cliqued, started laughing about old shit." But life is not perfect for Cube. Along with maturity has come social consciousness and a consciousness of self — things which society find threatening. This has lead to uncountable severe media bashings in attempts to smear his name. However, Cube remains undaunted. "As long as Black folks don't talk shit, I don't give a fuck. We need that medicine. My records give information to whites and Blacks. A lot of my shit isn't easy to swallow, but I do records about Black folks that aren't too easy either. I did a record called 'Us' that was telling us how stupidly we act. So I don't just attack certain people or say it just to hurt muthafuckas' feelings. I say it because, for one thing, it's true, it needs to be said. For another, I need to educate everybody on what we're going through here in 1993. If someone's going to get mad because they tell you their pain then fuck them!" So what does Cube want to be remembered for? "I want people to remember that Ice Cube always told the truth. I want to go down like Marvin Gaye or Bob Marley. You can still pick up their records to hear the deal. I want muthafuckas to do that with me. I want to be an icon. I just want to be remembered as somebody who never shook."
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