‘Our
music gives you the feeling to grab a politician by the
neck!’
DJ Ready D traveled the world with his Prophets of da City.
They toured the Netherlands, Denmark, Northern Ireland,
and even went up to the States. Still most of POC’s
music is banned in South Africa. Although the country claims
to have the most liberal constitution of the world, the
music industry is staying behind.
“Back in ’93, the National Party needed votes,
and they depended on our coloured community a lot. So what
are you going to do when a hip-hop group stands up with
a strong black awareness? That’s not a good idea.
Ban them!”
Ready D is still pissed off about it. Sitting in his house
in Southfield, Cape Town, he’s trying to figure out
how to get a hold of a POC album. He scratches his head.
“If you want to listen to a good POC album, I would
advice you to get Age of Truth. But how you’re going
to find it, man, I don’t know. I don’t even
have a copy of it myself! We do have the masters of the
album, and we are playing on re-releasing it this year,
but right now the situation is a bit weird.” It’s
not that the South African music industry doesn’t
see money in the band. “They do want to see POC out
there, doing their thing. But they don’t want us to
bring out another controversial album. South Africa has
been so syndicated; people that were involved in the banning
still hold key positions in the music industry. Those things
are changing, but it’s a slow process. A lot of people
are biting their nails about that, you know. Thinking stuff
like: ‘I hope these kids don’t speak about the
ANC, or HIV.’ But we’re very emotional driven.
Our music gives you the feeling to go out there and protest,
say something, kick down a door and grab a politician by
the neck. Our music makes you want to grab a book and read.”
Do you see yourself as a teacher for the youngsters
in the Cape Flats?
“I can only speak of my own experience and try to
use that as an example. Hopefully I’ll be a guide
for these youngsters. Obviously people look up to you as
a role model, you can’t really escape from that, but
I’m not telling people to get a house in the southern
suburbs, like I did. I’ve got a house now, a couch,
all this stuff you look at, but on the end of the day that’s
not the point. I want to tell people that you can do and
be whoever you want to be. We’ve been shot at by cops,
we’ve been shot at by gangs, we’ve stabbed,
we’ve been robbed, we have stabbed, we have robbed,
we’ve experienced all that stuff. We have been kicked
out of District Six, we had to run for our lives from our
own friends. I’ve been overseas. I’ve been sitting
with Quincy Jones, Ice Cub, Chuck D. But I still go back
to the Cape Flats. My mum still lives in the house I was
raised in, my friends are still hardcore killers. I can
go chill with these guys. I can throw all these things at
the kids and let them think: Damn! There’s a way out
of this.”
How important is music in this matter?
“If I hadn’t used music in the way I did, I
would have been in prison or killed by now. Those were the
only two options for me in Mitchell’s Plain. Not only
for me, but hundreds of my friends out there have the same
thing. Hip-hop has done so much for me; I’m trying
to give back through the music. That’s the best contribution
that I can make. I don’t know anything else. I haven’t
been past high school, I’ve never been to university,
I’ve got nothing else to fall back on, so I’ve
got to make sure this thing works. I’ve got a family,
I’ve got kids, a wife, you know. Anything has been
acquired through hip-hop music. All the research, all the
knowledge, everything. It’s my own university.”
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