Q-Tip, The Source 2002

THINGS ARE ABOUT to change. Trust. The rap industry may soon find itself caught out there as many hiphop fans seek sounds more suited for the postmodern 21st century.

With originality and liberation as two tenets of the Aquarian age we livin' in (more on that later), hiphop may experience a musical and thematic expansion. It may not even bother to label itself "hiphop." Kamaal Fareed, a/k/a Q-Tip, is characteristically at the vanguard of this evolution… or perhaps, this exodus.

Instrumental in some of the most classic material of the genre, the Abstract surprised many with the obviousness of his 1999 solo debut, Amplified. Sure, 'Vivrant Thing' was dope, but many considered the followup single 'Breathe and Stop' a retread. And flashy Hype Williams videos found Q-Tip embodying the very sensibility listeners expected him to critique.

His latest effort, Kamaal the Abstract, is the polar opposite of Amplified. It's equivalent to Miles Davis's first jazz-fusion album In a Silent Way – a musical departure from the norm, an embrace of experimentation. Produced entirely by Kamaal, who also plays drums and keyboards throughout, Abstract is a soulful excursion on the paths of rhythm and jazz. With sax solos, guitar hooks, instrumentals, background singing, and a few choice notes by Kamaal himself, Abstract gives Tip space to color outside the lines.

At a Manhattan photo studio, reluctantly posing in front of a blank backdrop, Kamaal discusses the only constant – change – and takes a stand for rescuing hiphop culture from itself.

Do you really feel hiphop is dead?

I can faithfully, honestly say that hiphop is dead, and it follows the route of all other [abandoned] forms of black music. I think that our generation, with the exception of a couple of artists – and I'd like to include myself, just because of where I'm at – I think we're kind of a lost cause. I'm proud of my history. I'm proud of where I came from. I'm proud of hiphop. But I'm really ashamed of the state it's in right now. It's just sad, man.

Are you saying you're here to rescue hiphop?

It's not even that it needs to be rescued. Part of problem solving is acknowledging and accepting that there's a problem. Once you do that, then you're able to remedy it. I think in hiphop, everybody is trying to be so perfect in whatever it is they do. People aren't real and honest in their assessments of themselves or what they do. And the minute that somebody opens up and lets themselves be free, that person usually has all these critics. Then that kinda scares people from wanting to be free as well. So I think it has to start from just recognizing that nothing's perfect; there's always gonna be problems.

What role does materialism play?

Hiphop is definitely a multimillion-dollar business. We all have great positions and we work. We all eat, but that has become the centrepiece of our existence: eating, rather than creating. That's the problem. Hopefully we won't kill each other and the next generation won't kill each other and flip themselves out and have hatred. I just hope they maintain that wonderment of life, that childlike quality as artists, so that they can keep it fresh.

What about those who never had that wonderment of life, those growing up in unfortunate circumstances that use hiphop as a way to escape?

There has to be some kind of balance in life. You can't grab any one thing to escape, especially something that's as expressive as the arts. There has to be some sort of passion and love there. And out of the passion and love, there's gonna be happiness, of course. One of the greatest examples of that was Biggie. Although he was saying some dark things, he always made himself want to ascend. He knew about happiness enough to want to ultimately be happy.

So how did we get to this point?

First of all, mentorship is nonexistent. So that's where we're fucked. We don't have anybody really telling us the proper usage of the tool of money. We keep on going to the people who own these record companies and distribution companies. We try to learn lessons from them, and they misguide us.

So how does the absence of mentors affect the culture?

Everything gets co-opted. [Record companies] figure out a way to make money, and then the shit just never becomes what it was in its purest form. They just take all of the strains of the culture, i.e. the rap, and then deeper still, the drum track. You can hear it from 'Nsync. You hear everybody has the backbeat, everybody's singing in rhyme cadences. Then the subject matter is just like smaller and smaller. I'm not opposed to people talking about what they wanna talk about, [but] I think that life is multidimensional.

Also, I think the practitioners of the medium aren't really schooled in history – in their own history, musical history, and, surprisingly enough, hiphop history. So if you don't have those things going for you, of course you're gonna look like the life span of mosquitoes. I'm fortunate that [A Tribe Called Quest] was reared in history, came up in Zulu [Nation]. I'm just blessed that I'm able to make this progression to not let what anybody says direct me to walk the path of Hades.

Can hiphop be salvaged? Or will black people simply create another form of music expression like we have throughout American history?

More than likely, it's gonna be the latter. But I believe that anything can happen. We're in the Aquarian age, the age of change. Anything can happen. I just wanna say to all these so-called executives and A&R people, people who call themselves a part of the music community, they should really bask in the glorious past that we have. Like, Dame Dash, Steve Stoute, Master P, Suge Knight, or Puffy: if y'all just go back and check out Robert Johnson, Etta James, Mahalia Jackson, Jelly Roll Morton, or Louis Armstrong. Check out their music, check out their stories, y'all could really ascend. Save the culture. I can't do it by myself. What I was trying to do with Amplified was to talk to y'all in particular. But being that that ain't work, I might as well just say it: we could do it together, let's save the culture, man.

What exactly did you expect Amplified to accomplish?

I went through immense growth through that period. It was a bit confusing for me. 'Cause I didn't recognize it all the time but I knew something was happening. I had to do Amplified because that song 'Vivrant Thing' blew up. I just figured, "Okay, well, if cats like that from a cat like me, maybe I can get in here and say something to the people who wear platinum." I tried to, as I always do, slip little [positive] lines in here and there amongst all the other shit I was saying.

At that period, it was people wanting to enjoy themselves, to have a good time and not worry about [their problems], which I'm all for. There's a big part of music that's celebratory. A Tribe Called Quest always been about that and so have I. So I didn't feel like Amplified was that big of a leap.

Unfortunately, there's [only] probably a handful of cats who are poppin' champagne and ballin' who actually own a Mos Def CD or a Black Star CD. I saw there was a segregation happening in the music at that time. You had all these cats just like Jay-Z, and then you had cats just like Common, and everybody was hating on each other. So I wanted to be the one to bridge the gap. I guess I'm just idealistic in that way.

Speaking of positive lines, could you clarify your verse from Missy Elliott's 'Hot Boyz' remix? Some interpreted it as endorsement of gunplay.

I said, "Mommy, what the deal?/Ain't no heat hotter than the heat a nigga hold/I think you really should be told/That I keep a long shaft that has a long blast/I'll look at a nigga and peel off fast." [I was] speaking metaphorically. If I have a long shaft, I'm obviously referencing to a part of myself. I mean, I'm talking to a young lady and I'm just being a little raunchy with her. I'm not talking about gunplay, I never… C'mon now.

When did you starting playing drums and piano?

I've been playing the piano now for about a year, seriously, and drums probably about eight months. I think the thing that inspired me that Wes Montgomery started playing guitar when we was like 28, 29 and winded up being a beast.

On Kamaal the Abstract you sing as much as rap. Do you consider this a hiphop album?

I consider it to be music. We shoot ourselves in the foot when we start leaning on the crutch of a category that we've developed for ourselves. That's when we start facing death. The way you free yourself is just being [as broad] as you can be. I don't like to say rap music, rock, blues, because it's all strains of each other. It all comes from one thing, from the drum, from Africa. Let's just call it music.

Do you think hiphop listeners have a problem with artistic growth?

Yes, I feel like that's true. It has to do with how black people in America have always been perceived and how we perceived and how we perceived and how we perceive ourselves. Unfortunately, we've been backed into these wretched little corners where we look at ourselves in such a small manner that if we go beyond it, we may upset Mecca. That mentality, unfortunately, is still among us today. Everybody, as black people, go through that, you know what I mean? [Conforming] is first on our list rather than pursuing our dreams no matter what they are, no matter how colourful they look. It's almost like if we embrace our dreams, truthfully and honestly pursue them, we're damned.

Why do you think the resistance to change still exists?

Black people are not allowed to be their dreams. We have to categorize them – "Box it up," as Andre Harrell would say – so we can sell. But then we just become slaves to our bottom desires: getting a crib and being financially secure and being okay and shit like that. And we wind up being unhappy, unapproachable, unenthusiastic, uninspired folk. That's why hiphop five years ago had a noose around its head. Now it's just like vultures and picking the bones.

I refuse to let that happen to me. I just can't because I've always been encouraged – by my dad and mom who are my biggest heroes, Miles, Stevie, Bird, Lennon, Ravel, Chopin – to be able to dream. Like Robert Frost said, The road less travelled is not the most popular road. But if it's in you to do something, you have to do it. I encourage everybody to just go within themselves, especially now in this day and age. This time is pregnant with so much possibility. It can go either go one way or the other.

Which way do you think we'll go?

I'm an optimist. I believe that it will go for the better and that we are the people who are gonna set up the world for the next 150 years. I encourage everything to dream. Just dream and make it become real. I know it sounds like the Boys Club but that shit is so real. I'm a testament to it.

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