by Sandra Beckmeier

We live in a time which dictates the term "moral panic," -- modest words, taken from cultural studies and mandated national policy for some countries, local government and yes, even little national battles with rap music. Within the past few years the style has found its way into a collection of essays, written by concerned academics in the community who wanted to confront the academy (or confront other academics) with the "new blues."

Censorship has become another cultural battleground for rap artists, and in recent years these struggles have extended to the fans, like myself who once bought an old blues record that carried a parental advisory warning for youth, as if "beans and cornbread" would permanently damage a child. In some cases the problems have clogged the audiences, narrowed it to critics, and confused the music community because these are clearly blatant forms of control over expression, and the cries staining "moral panic" act as if those two words will serve as some kind of be-all and end-all remedy to a problem that doesn't really exist.

What seems clear beyond what has been dictated by the government and trickled past the media's ignorance are the messages from the messengers of rap. They are simply artistic motions, and the lyrics, like anything else, can be heard or not. In general terms, the messages are about people becoming aware and being prepared, what happens when you're not. Whatever kind of violence we speak of should be the marker for panic, not rap lyrics some folks can't open their eyes wide enough to see.

Nowadays it seems like an endless task for the artists more than anyone else, who constantly have to defend, redefine and explore new pathways for their styles and the movement, and with good reason. We're the latchkey generation, and more often than not we rely on music to parlay these life experiences we all have, especially when we can't verbalize them to the extreme of opposing our parents and anyone in authority who may equate the music as some kind of ejaculation for angry youth.

In a time of rigid media surveillance, or alternatively, the "discipline and punishment tent" laid down by governmental interns holding the questions surrounding so many censorship issues, not just the issues enforced upon rap music, I can't help but believe there are more hidden agendas than the public will ever know, and if there was a need for posing any questions, the one that is received is this: is it art or is it fabrication? It is ridicule, and leaves most of us questioning how to revive strong and discernible ideologies which can conquer things like labels and the politics behind the first amendment a-b-c's.

As MC Overlord points out, it is sad that there have been musicians who died under the violence and the labels, like Tupac Shakur, a young man who became a success story practically overnight, and was essentially treated like a Vietnam Veteran within the press as the kid walked around a war zone. He tried to express the climate as he saw it through his art, but even after his death Shakur continued to be ridiculed and belittled as someone who "got what he deserved." The bottom line is, no matter what censors say or said, Shakur's mind was free to create and imagine -- a worthy escape from the messy, modern realignments of race, class and nationality.

Those of us who sit and wait on the fringe, praising the guises of harmonious westerners who preach for the doors of higher education to open and allow the form in, raise our eyebrows at all the phony solutions created as if to perpetuate an issue to the artistic community is worthy. If it could be a question to define "art," once again, which is innately esoteric and an aethestic expression of life, then there can be no argument about rap's brand of fashion. It is simply cultural confrontation.

I can think of no one better suited and well aware of the task to bring rap music and hip-hop into layman's terms than MC Overlord. Austin is ready, and so is he. I don't express this opinion because he's black, or because he's got something unique to uphold. His words are less public, maintain a lot of integrity, and his style raises it up through a straight-forward yet undiscovered sound, and as unusual as it sounds it isn't even his ability to rap and write contemplative songs that makes him steady. It's his ability to connect and transcend on records, make his point live, stepping along the stones every artist has to cross. And to top it off he encourages new artists who might side-step the mainstream community because they feel they have to do so. That's the foundation of how censorship can destroy an artist mentally, emotionally and spiritually, and why it demands attention.

Don Robinson, a.k.a. MC Overlord, has appropriately written an anthem, whether he recognizes it or not -- a title from his second album A Better Funk, called, "Can You Hear Me?" It's got integrity and adds yet another thread to the style, just like he wants it, utilizing a harmonica that subtly embraces the roots of American music and scatting itself. Robinson is in production with his third album, following the unbridled The Dark Side, which catapulted him to a new level last year.

The "Live Music Capital of the World" has yet to define itself, and what better time than now to question it as Central Texas slowly becomes a third coast?

ADA: Several years ago I started keeping track of the number of venues for hip-hop, because there is such a hole in the community, and one of the few venues was a barber shop (even though its kind of cute) on Highway 71, called Cuts By Joel.

ADA: There are a number of folks who have affected the growth of the genre locally. I come from the perspective of hip-hop theater, with artists like the lovely Sharon Bridgforth of Root Wy'mn. Can you see how your music has affected the growth of the genre locally?

Don: Right.

ADA: There are a number of folks who have affected the growth of the genre locally. I come from the perspective of hip-hop theater, with artists like the lovely Sharon Bridgforth of Root Wy'mn. Can you see how your music has affected the growth of the genre locally?

Don: I've been in Austin's hip-hop community about eight years now, and I've definitely seen in that eight years it take some growth. For two to three years I've seen the most significant expansion where groups are out touring and putting out records, but it all takes money. It's not that the talent hasn't been here to support growth, but that takes money. Most artists just haven't had the money to put out product, and in order to be really heard you have to put out product. I was very fortunate in being one of those acts embraced by the venue community in saying "we're going to book this guy" in front of the likes of Dah-veed and very mainstream artists. Mainstream audiences helped me incorporate an audience of my own, and in turn the result of that was to open up doors for other groups such as one coming up right now called Big Game Hunter.

ADA: They came and played for our benefit last year.

Don: I think that a lot of negativity with rap music is being turned away, you know not completely, at least people aren't automatically fearful of it, and will take some chances. The kids obviously like it and get into it. I think here in Austin it's a very young thing but it's coming to a point where it's gonna have its own niche. I'm kind of torn both ways. I want to see hip hop have its own nature, but I also want to just be part of the music community.

ADA: Austin is quickly becoming an urban landscape. Fifty families a week are moving here, and those who contribute to the arts will bring a lot of influences along with them which in turn will redefine what gets promoted.

Don: I think it's going to be an amazing outcome when it's all said and done. I feel like maybe I'm here at the forefront of something that's going to turn out to be pretty amazing.

ADA: Have you produced your records yourself?

Don: Yes. I have two friends who have served as my investors, Bobby Wolf and Danny Friedman. Bobby's my manager and Danny's my lawyer. The three of us have financially invested a lot into the project and pushed it from every angle -- from recording to manufacturing, promotion to touring. We've put all of our collective souls into it, and we're pushing as much as we can. I'm very fortunate to be in a situation where I have two other people who believe in what I do whole-heartedly in belief that this is something that's going somewhere. That's the way we've been able to get the product out there and do what we've been able to do.

ADA: Have you had a lot of radio support?

Don: KLBJ has been by far the leader in town. They play us in rotation over there. Here's this rap artist from Austin, Texas and they're playing me on the number one rock station.

ADA: Within rock n' roll's traditions, it kind of makes sense.

Don: Yeah, and people say: "you're missing your mark," but I say "no I'm not. I feel like I'm hitting it right on the head." I feel like that in itself is a pretty remarkable accomplishment because they dig it. They dig the message and the music. They want to push the fact, okay this music is cool. There are a lot of people who would like to push and say it's violent, it's an angry music, it's a destructive music.

ADA: Oh, you mean the government who think honest confrontation is evil?

Don: Yeah, exactly!

ADA: Well, who are they?

Don: I'm not gonna mention any names...

ADA: Tipper Gore.

Don: Mr. Gingrich. But these rock stations are saying "it's a cool music". They've had us play live tons of times, and I've gone over there and hung out on the morning show, traded jokes with Dudley, Bob and Deborah. Every opportunity they get it's MC Overlord, they're plugging away for me. And of course the community radio station KAZI. They get behind all the community acts.

ADA: What about social consciousness, and the social consciousness in your music?

Don: As far as social consciousness goes I think it's important for people to be responsible about what they say. I'm gonna sit here and know for a fact that my music is very appealing to a young audience. That's our future. Those are our little brothers and our little sisters. It's tomorrow. I feel like there are artists out there, and to give an example, Charles Barkley, who said he doesn't want to be a role model. After a point however, you have to understand that whether you like it or not, what you do or say is going to have repercussions. I think one of the saddest examples of that for the rap community is Tupac and Big E.

ADA: Yes and no.

Don: I think it was an eye-opening thing for the entire community to say "you reap what you sow" and "if you preach this madness no matter," but I really do believe they were only trying to paint a picture of what was going on around them. I think they were just victims of a situation that was exploited to ridiculous proportions. That's why the social consciousness for me is very important. I feel this strong magnetic pull to say and do the right things. I have this thing I don't ever want to say anything I couldn't say in front of my mom. It kind of keeps me in focus. That's a very wise woman, and there isn't anything she hasn't seen heard or done. She taught me a lot of valuable things. I'm gonna be who I am, and that is through my music as an expression, an outlet.

ADA: Your music conveys the juxtaposition. I don't know if that was intentional.

Don: I don't think there's any entertainer out there that can't say it doesn't make them feel good to make other people feel good with what they're trying to do.

ADA: Do you feel like any of what you do is edu-tainment?

Don: KRS-One came up with that term didn't he?

ADA: I think it's culturally relevant. I like it.

Don: That was probably one of the most amazing terms I've heard as far as this music and the genre is concerned. Yeah I do. There's a lyric I'm working on for the new record that says, "if it feels like I'm preaching, I am." (laughs) Yeah, I'm trying to get inside their heads, and I'm trying to say look, think about this, everybody out there isn't trying to show somebody.

ADA: Most of the time.

Don: Yeah, and just because you're not doesn't make you a softy or a fool or anything else; it makes you human. It's kind of "welcome to the real world."

ADA: Which isn't so bad. Let me ask you something about rap. It comes from the blues. I have some of these really old Mississippi blues recordings and I swear they sound like they're...what was the word? Scatting?

Don: Scatting. That's exactly right.

ADA: Where are your roots with rap?

Don: Mine?

Don: What drew me to the form and what drew me to actually pursue the form as something I wanted to do were two different periods. But what drew me to the form was a guy named Gil Scott Herron. There's a record or something called "the revolution will not be televised" and he did this, and it was the most incredible thing that I'd heard. It was kinda like a poem, and kinda like a rap, but it's kind of like the spoken word thing they do in New York. It was awesome and I was taken. Here's this guy talking but here's his rhythmic way of putting it really drawing you in to what its about. That's when I was real mesmerized by the art. And then of course with the beginning of rap as pop culture with the Sugar Hill Gang, "Rappers Delight" and I can't think of a kid my age that didn't think go crazy over that. That took everybody out. Black kids, white kids, everybody said "that is so cool!" Besides, Sugar Hill came up with the term hip-hop. And that's when I knew it was something I wanted to do. That was something I took on and I never lost the love or passion for. There is a deep passion within me. I can't even see a day where I won't be putting words together, you know.

ADA: I do understand that intense pull. Tell me about your songwriting. What is your process?

Don: I have to be feeling something for a while. I'm not someone who can just sit down and write a song. I've seen people do that. They'll sit down and just start writing. I can't do that.

ADA: Have to mull it over for a while.

Don: I have to be in some kind of emotional state, I'm either happy or mad about something. I think back on what has been on my mind for a while. But I don't write to music. Very rarely have I heard music, and then write a song. I usually just write the song, then get with different producers and write the music. Writing as a band is something we don't do enough. I usually write with producers, and then the band interprets what the producer is doing. I think when we write as a band it's cool. Some of the coolest songs come out of that, and one of the coolest songs I have that's come from that process is a song called "A Better World."

ADA: I love that song.

Don: You can feel it on the record.

MC Overlord can be found at Steamboat on Tuesday nights through the month of May, then Robinson, guitarist Danny Whetman and Mike Erdy will hit the road on a five-city tour with the Ugly Americans, then out to Atlanta, New Orleans and the midwest. It will be interesting to watch as the hometown boys make good. Robinson repeats that Austin has been good to him, and he's been good to hip-hop. As it goes for most musicians, we'll see what happens in exile.