Beans

Raping Silence

For a man who makes a living manipulating the English language as if it were silly putty, Beans is virtually monosyllabic when it comes to that journalistic cop out, the email interview. Answers like "Very" and "Not really" aren't much use for fleshing out a worthwhile story. Mutescreamer? Not really, no.

But when you can use words as well as Beans, aka Ballbeam, you can get away with a lot. After all, when you pack more vocal contortions into one track than most rappers can deal to on an album, you're doing something right.

Beans' career to date has been that of a dexterous underground genius, a wordsmith comet, sizzling the underbelly of that moribund hip-hop art form. An art form that on a visible level has defiled its own heritage, moving from the pioneering spirit of its futurist roots to its current state as a marketing device for pseudo bourgeois lifestyles. Or, as Shadow's 'Why Hip Hop Sucks in '96' so succinctly put it, "It's the money... money... money."

AntiPop Consortium, Beans' trio with M Sayyid and Priest, busted out of this paradigm until their unfortunate demise in 2002. Their two albums, Tragic Epilogue and Arrhythmia, created a new way, with twisted minimal tracks backing some of the most convoluted three-way lyrical excursions imaginable.

With backgrounds in performance poetry, and a firm grounding in hip hop lore, APC's experimental leanings gained them a small but committed audience. Beans, the most colourful member of the group, was the first to reemerge following their acrimonious demise.

Early 2003's Tomorrow Right Now was an indication of the direction he was heading in. An eclectic, gleefully challenging album, it was partly produced by APC sound guru Earl Blaize, and partly by Beans. From poetry inspired acapella word flows to electronic freak out instrumentals, Tomorrow was a galaxy and a half away from chart bound hip-hop, yet the distant relationship was implicit.

In many ways hip-hop pioneers had links to experimental music. From the fascination with Kraftwerk, Mantronix’ synthetic creations, Afrika Bambaataa's Afro-Futurism, to such staples as scratching and sampling techniques, from the start it was forward looking.

Of the experimental badge that has been thrust upon him, Beans is skeptical, saying it is a box that the media have created for him to make it easier for them selves. "It's beats and rhymes at the end of the day," he reckons.

Beans' new offering is another big step forward, and a far more cohesive package than Tomorrow Right Now. Shock City Maverick is the perfect title, as the album seems to announce a new frontier of hip hop, a brave new world of unconquered fluorescent horizons.

"I rock shit with no sample clearances and no guest appearances/But a reputation for consistent deviation." ('I'll Melt You').
"People are lazy and don't want different but variations of the same shit," says the man. "The level of mediocre shit people swallow nowadays is unbelievable."

One difference between his two solo albums is that Beans produced Shock City Maverick in its entirety. It's been something of a challenge to get his production skills up to that level, but he's enjoying the process. In some small way learning to operate from the other side of the desk to the microphone changed the way he puts his words together. "In my old age, I think I want the lyrics more simple and more happening in the music."

Or, as he's said previously, "If I use a lot of elements, considering the way that I rhyme, you get lost."

"That all has to do with the beat," he says. "It dictates everything."

No doubt. But coming from a performance poetry background, is there any difference in the dynamics or delivery of the two? "Just the cadence," Beans reckons. "I make no distinctions."

Having collaborated heavily over the years, Beans chose for the most part to hermetically seal himself in his studio for this album and spin his head out. "Collaborating on other people's shit is fine but for my own shit, I prefer to remain alone."

That said though, his next project is a collaboration with bassist William Parker and drummer Hamid Drake for the Thirsty Ear label called Only. After that it's another solo album, for which he's already picked a title, Thorns. Getting a little ahead of himself?

As it turns out he's one of those people who have everything mapped out in advance. Doesn't that make it less of an adventure? "Not at all," Beans considers. "Because I haven't made them yet and plans change..."

While he may not be greatly forthcoming via email, Beans lyrics say it all really. He's a true original, a freak patrolling the hazy perimeters of a genre that seems to thrive on sameness. As he says in a rare display of cyber-chattiness, "The music is what it is when money is involved. It's not all bad. I hear what I like and discard the bullshit."

Gavin Bertram.