J-Love

From Issue #4 of Foundation Magazine

WORDS: Michael Cohen

In a room clouded with weed smoke and Domino’s Pizza fumes, a bright yellow Air Force One sneaker flashed on the TV screen as the ten o’clock news reported a fashion trend called “Retro Wear.”

“People actually buy these weird Uptowns?” Killa Sha, the veteran Queensbridge rapper mocked.

“Nah,” J Love responded with a modest mumble and a mouth half full of pizza, “I don’t wear them fruity ass colors.”

He stood rocking a solid blue Brooklyn Dodgers jacket over a blue and white Dodgers jersey, matching a solid blue Mitchell & Ness Dodgers hat; in the same way J Love never followed current mixtape trends, he didn’t appear to favor current fashion trends.

As the news went further into reporting on the fashion craze, Killa Sha went further on an abusive rant. “That shit is not comin’ back,” he shouted as the TV showed some flattop fade rocking, tight pants wearing teenagers, break dancing as if it were 1986. “That shit is not comin’ back yo.”

This “Retro Wear” trend gets confusing. J Love’s throwback baseball gear and #5 Jordans didn’t qualify as Retro Wear. Just that mid/late 90’s hip-hop style. These Retro Kids on the news were born between 88’ and 90’ but claimed to be “old school” in demeanor.

It’s a rebellious fashion statement brought about by the insecurity and frustration of the gimmicked out hip-hop music that has plagued their generation. These NY teens distance themselves from new millennium hip-hop with such extremities that they look like they are auditioning for a remake of the 1982 film Wild Style.

But J Love, the “Street Savior” and self proclaimed “King Of What I Do” has come to “Better Your Life” in 2007, as he makes you “Acknowledge Greatness.”

Acknowledge Greatness, J Love’s forthcoming album thumped in the background of the studio as J and his crew satisfied haze induced munchies and abused the pathetic fashion trend. “Muthafuckas look like little Lupe,” said Killa Sha, mockingly referring to Lupe Fiasco’s dress code.

“I’m not ridin’ wit the times man,” J Love said earlier that evening after playing a 16 track sneak peek of Acknowledge Greatness. “I’m not ridin’ the wave man. Like, Chicken Noodle Soup was the biggest record. That shit sucks. I don’t care if it was a little kid… I’m not knocking somebody for tryin’ to do their thing, but for DJs to sit there and be like ‘this shit is hot,’ it’s like, dog, did you pop a tab? What are you on acid right now?”

Influenced by classic hip-hop but inspired by disgust of rap music’s current state, J has heightened his already top-notch work ethic. The 16 tracks he played didn’t even make up half of the material he has prepared for Acknowledge Greatness. Despite music’s overall dreadful economic state, J has entertained the idea of dropping a double album, regardless of how difficult it is to sell a single LP these days.

“I feel confident, one, in my product,” J declared, “and two, it got that old school hip-hop sound that’s kinda missing from hip-hop period.”

By “old school hip-hop sound,” J didn’t mean beat boxing and pop locking, just a return to hard beats and hard rap; well thought out lyrics, creative hooks and rugged scratches. Reminiscent of the 90’s, but conceptually up-to-date.

“I’m not on some ‘stuck in an era shit,’ but quality music is quality music,” J said, “and I don’t feel that a lot of shit out now is quality music. Lyrically a lot of niggas suck.”

J’s relationships with legendary lyricists only aid his approach. He’s able to achieve a balance of rap veterans and hip-hop novices all with the same idea of what rap should sound like. Names that hip-hop heads salivate for, such as, Large Professor, Kool G Rap and Cormega help J to introduce his new artist, Meyhem.

Taking the lyrical forefront on his new album, J has slightly deviated from his usual style. “I always wrote, ya know, I always rhymed,” J said, “but I just felt that niggas was so much illa back then that I was like ‘maybe this shit aint for me.’”

J gained most of his notoriety by compiling artists’ greatest tracks and underground classics and arranging the songs according to his liking. 5 Nas’s Finest tapes, 5 Mobb Misses, 3 Mary J. Blige Best Of mixes, 4 Return of the Swarm CDs, countless individual Wu-Tang member mixes and a Legends series of mixtapes so far consisting of Rakim, Gang Starr, LL Cool J, and Slick Rick, hardly begin to illustrate the thoroughness and consistency of J Love’s mixtape resume. His Best Of track record does, however, give a good indication of his taste of hip-hop.

Though J rhymed and produced more, and relied less on other classic emcees on his new album, he didn’t deviate from that rugged New York hip-hop sound. “Maybe I’m in a time capsule or whatever the fuck niggas wanna say, but I’m just not conforming to that bullshit style of hip-hop,” he explained, “that cat-in-the-hat rap shit. It’s like the stupider you rap the illa you are now. Fuck that shit.”

Sticking to his own style has earned J minute criticism but mostly served as the main ingredient for his success. He is renowned for his Best Of series but still throws in a mixtape of current bangers every few months or so. Even his ‘new joint’ mixtapes never sound redundant with other DJs. “What’s the difference between hearing a Kay Slay CD or Big Mike CD or Clue?” J rhetorically asked. “All that matters is who drops the day before. My shit is timeless… Some mixtape DJs might sell more than me or have more CDs out there, but that shit is out for one week. It’s like you’re hot for one week and then that shit is a fuckin’ coffee coaster.”

J built a business/legacy from a childhood hobby. As a 9 year old he remembered “walking around with like ten cassettes in each pocket. I had like mad albums,” he continued, “and would be recording my own tapes, the way I wanted to hear songs.”

Arranging songs the way he wanted to hear them garnered J slight success but more so, it set him apart from other DJs. The Best Of tapes established himself as an individual and not a robot DJ playing whatever he’s paid to play. “That’s why I don’t really do clubs,” J said, “cause I’m not gonna play wack shit. If I don’t like it I don’t even wanna spin it. That might work against me in a lot of aspects, but fuck it.”

J went against the grain (and still goes against the grain) by making mixtapes that are essentially just his favorite songs from his favorite artists. By just looking at his mixtape catalog, viewable on the inside cover of any J Love mixtape, you can understand J as a fan, not just a DJ.

AZ, Nore, Tragedy Kadafi and Big Noyd, not the most radio friendly emcees, but that’s who J liked so that’s who J fucked with. Once upon a time DJs actually played records because the liked them - before corporate commercialism tore through hip-hop like a lifer tearing up the asshole of a fresh fish in jail.

“There’s only like the top 40 that gets rocked on the radio every day.” J said. “There’s a lot more than 40 fuckin’ rappers out there. How else [they] gon get heard if it’s not through mixtapes?”

Though J lives up to his Street Savior title by providing an outlet for emcees shunned by commercial radio, he still made three volumes of Bulletproof; The Best of 50Cent. J defended the criticism of 50’s simplified lyrics and commercial gimmicks. “You gotta remember, 90% of the public is stupid,” he said in 50’s defense, “so you gotta water shit down sometimes.”

“As far as gimmicks, 50 Cent is maybe the exception to the rule… that nigga just can’t lose… his work ethic is insane too, that’s what you need in this game.”

J himself has always steered free of gimmicks. With his success, J has improved the quality of his mixtape covers but he never dabbled in excessive artwork. “People have wack mixtapes,” J said, “but might have Lil’ Wayne punchin’ Jay-Z in the face on the cover. People are on some straight gimmick bullshit. I’m not into gimmicks. That has never been me.”

J’s early mixtape covers consisted of nothing more than a photo of the artist, title of the mixtape, and J Love’s name. He sold music, not PhotoShop tricks. With some fame and money J has upgraded the artwork of his mixtape covers, but not much more than a red and black heart with balled fists taking place of the letter “O” in J-Love.

Not conforming to commercialism might have stagnated his financial success but J claimed to be, “not really after the paper like that. Granted I’m not a fuckin’ fool who don’t want money, but I’m just tryin’ to make music.”

J doesn’t reap the international fame of a DJ Clue or the commercial radio love of Enuff and Kay Slay, but still has his Sirius Satellite show, went on a world tour working as Ghostface Killah’s official DJ and, most notably, has created a legendary catalog of mixtapes.

Steam rose from the Dominos’ Pizza box just beneath the gold Big L plaque hanging on the wall. The Big L plaque is the first thing to catch your eye when you enter J’s studio. Perhaps it’s a reminder to every rapper who steps through the door to step up their lyrics.

Acknowledge Greatness, packed with lyrical assassins, pumped in the background, but between Killa Sha’s abusive rant and Max the engineer screaming, “who put a blunt out on my leather couch,” it was impossible to tell which track was playing.

This little room under the 7 line in Long Island City Queens, clouded with weed smoke and fast food fumes, was also packed with time-warped hip-hop heads who still care about lyrics.

“Really I don’t know where the fuck hip-hop is gonna go,” J said, “how much more stupid can it get? You just gon say hooks like, ‘hot, hot, hot, hot,’ can you get any stupider?

“I don’t know buddy, hip-hop is really out of control.”

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