LONG FORMThe Journey to Infinity
Interview by Mike Nicholls | Photography by John Crisp
Copy editing by Louis RawlinsOn December 14, 2019 the iconic group from Oakland California Souls of Mischief performed and presented their documentary ‘Til Infinity (directed by Shomari Smith) at de Young Museum in San Francisco coinciding with the Soul of a Nation exhibit. Souls made a splash on the hip-hop scene with their groundbreaking album ‘93 Til Infinity which cemented them as Bay Area royalty and catapulted them to an global audience, along with their just as impactful Hieroglyphics collective.
I sat down and chatted with the four members Tajai, Opio, Phesto Dee and A-Plus and discussed their journey as hip-hop artists, becoming independent early in their careers and the growth of Hiero Day Festival in their hometown of Oakland.
Mike: Thank you for this opportunity, I appreciate you guys. Real talk. When I was in high school, your album came out when I graduated in ‘93. I'm from Charlotte, North Carolina so literally, I knew I was probably the only one rockin’ you guys. So this is a pleasure, an honor really.
One of the first things that I wanted to get into, from ‘93 til now, what has been the journey for you creatively and personally in regards to hip-hop music?
Tajai: All four different answers over here. [laughter]
A-Plus: For me (and I’m sure that there’s gonna be tons of similarities in these answers), ‘93 til now was a culmination of what started off as childhood dreams in 1982. Dreams that actually started to come into fruition in ‘93.
It'd be an understatement to call it a milestone for us, because kids dream, but when you're a young adult and those dreams start becoming true right in front of your face, it's almost like a rebirth. It's almost like some form of a restart button for everything.
All the preconceived things you had about what that dream will be like – they’re all out the door – and now you in it and seeing what it is. It's almost like being a baby all over again. But also for us at that age, being a grown man for the first time too.
So from then – ‘93 til now – it’s been like since the rebirth.
It’s a blessing when any dreams come true, especially some that are so far and wide and don’t happen to most people, like what happened with us. It’s just been life since then.
There’s no book for what we've been through. We’re anomalous in our own existence and every day is a blessing.
Tajai: It’s been a wild ride. I think, like you said, when you sorta have a dream as a young person to do something, and you achieve that as a young person, it's really figuring out, “Okay, now what?” And I think that's where all the cool stuff has been happening, from getting signed to a major label, to getting kicked off that major label and going independent, and doing far better independently than what would commercially be our biggest success.
And then traveling the world, building a grassroots campaign with the extra steroids of having been on a major label. And then growing into being parents and grown men in the music industry that is youth-oriented. It presents certain difficulties, but like he said, we have had an anomalous existence in that our fan base ranges from probably early sixties, at this age, to maybe twelve, thirteen.
We’re the type of group people put their family members on to. We're almost like a comic book, like, “Oh, you’ve never read this?” [chuckles] you know, and you sorta pass the stuff down.
So it’s really odd that we're probably bigger now than we were when we first came out. But still underground. You see what I’m saying? [laughs]
It’s a very, very weird thing. And then, moving on and trying to do other things that we like in life and make sure that we keep the music unadulterated by not leaning too hard on it as a way to survive, beyond it being a survival tactic for just creative expression.
And I think that’s the good thing about being independent and also having fans, is that we can tour, and feed ourselves without having to make some sort of pop hit. We have never had to make that concession to the industry, and I think that’s what keeps us fresh and innovative. ‘Cause, I mean, it could go awry easily. Even just making the attempt, people are like, “Ooo, what are they trying with that one?”
One of the things I always appreciated about your music is that there’s always a narrative, there's always a story to be told. What is a particular story that you would tell folks of Oakland? You know what I'm saying?
Phesto: I don’t know if you were intentionally trying to lead into this, but I would say: Tell our own story.
Today we are. You’re sitting next to the director Shomari Smith right now. ’Til Infinity is showing in the de Young museum downstairs. The important thing for us is to control our narrative and not let anybody else take us out of the narrative or paint the picture in some other way, shape or form. I would say that the number one thing for us is to just tell that story.
A lot of people know Hieroglyphics, and they might be fans of Souls of Mischief, but I know people that are lifelong fans of us and saw the movie and were like, “Wow. I didn't know!”
It's so many layers to that story. You could probably do two or three other movies that touch on its different spin offs and that kinda stuff.
When 93’ til Infinity dropped, I always wondered: What was the temperature in Oakland for you all when you guys came out with your first album?
Opio: Yeah, I mean. What we did represent was like – this is obviously pre-internet – there was a youth culture movement that was happening. It was just more of a mentality than anything.
I don't think that we fully understood how universal our mentality and the art that we were putting out was actually. How it just communicated to people all over the United States.
I feel like Chicago was the first city that we went to where people really knew all the words and were super passionate about what we had going on. And we were kinda taken aback a little bit, you know, ‘cause Chicago’s got a strong gang culture. People was really kind of like – they had love for us but these were just aggressive people. But as more and more as we traveled around and just connected with people that were basically our age and younger, it was like, they had group names that they didn't necessarily steal from us. You know what I mean? [laughter]
It was just like there was something that was happening, I think just at that time, in that era, like the way people move their hands or whatever.
They were able to see us on television and immediately just be like, “I relate to them!” So that wasn't really something that was intentional, but I do think that that was a big impact for us.
Like, I’ve talked to a lot of people that I've met over the years and they talk about how much of an influence that we had on their world view.
Is that overwhelming? Does it ever get like, “It’s heavy, yo... I was just being me.” Was there ever a point where you felt overwhelmed with that much love?
Opio: Nah, not really. I mean, I think we were surprised to see it come to fruition, to see somebody knowin’ your rap. That had just never really been a thing that we had ever envisioned, you know what I mean? But really, it was all love.
Even with a lot of people that we would “battle” or whatever. It was pretty friendly for most part and it was always like a lot of respect that was there. People came specifically to battle us, but it wasn't like they were like “I really dislike you as a human being.” [laughter]
It was like “I wanna test my skill against you because I feel like I respect what you guys are doing,” you know what I’m sayin’?
Speaking of Chicago, I went to design school out there and I remember in like ‘98 when you guys were on the Third Eye Vision tour and you had a show at Metro. The place was packed.
You could see the impact. With what you all were doing the first hip-hop collective to establish an online presence, merchandising, branding. Between you and Wu-Tang, you guys were like, “We got this logo, we’re gonna really max this out.” Do you feel like you've always been innovators outside of music?
Hip-hop people usually say, “Yeah, we’re the first to do this,” but at the time it was happening, did you realize that you’re the only ones doing it?
Tajai: Yeah. Because the other stuff wasn’t around! So yeah, to a large extent, especially with the internet. When I was in school, I remember email… When you had homies like, "What'ch you mean you gonna send me an email? You only got my address." You know what I mean? [laughter]
So yeah, I think we knew we were on the way. We didn’t realize that it would be so huge. We thought it would be for those who are in that online community, but we grew up, like [points to A-Plus] his dad was a programmer. We grew up programming.
A-Plus: Yeah, we were little kids hacking games and stuff. It wasn’t like a new threshold thing. It was just what we were doing as kids. So to think it would be part of something that would change how the world does everything with all this new technology... We were just little nerdy kids from the block, fuckin’ around.
Tajai: Trying to get some cheap games.
A-Plus: Trying to get some free games! [laughter] And naked pictures and shit. [laughter] You know what I’m saying?
Tajai: The same as now! …if you add free music to that, but really, that’s really what the internet's basically used for. But yeah, having a website and all that, we didn't realize how big it would be, but we knew that it was something. We started getting orders from Afghanistan, Iraq… And this is before the war. When we first started doing it, it was mail order. People would have to send a check. You'd have to wait for the check to clear. Then we'd send them a cassette.
From that, growing to MP3s and all that is a huge leap that I think we all take for granted now, if we didn’t live in a pre-internet society, but it was big back then. I don't think we knew like, “Okay, we’re on to something.” Yeah, 'cause I think you mentioned earlier about being independent from, I guess, that was after the album No Man’s Land..?
‘95 till now we've been independent. Right? ‘95, we got dropped, yeah?
A-Plus: Officially our label started in ‘96, but in our minds, ‘95.
Was the website for the label?
A-Plus: We didn't even look at it like, “Our label needs a website,” because that context wasn’t even there yet. We were trying to make a label, and there was a new thing called websites.
Tajai: But we met a lot of promoters who then threw shows for us through the internet, ‘ause that was the only way you could contact us, that or a phone number. And it was very instrumental, but it wasn’t, like you said, we weren't looking at it as like, “Our label needs a web...”
No labels had websites. I'm pretty sure Apple didn’t have a website at that time. [laughter]
A-Plus: For us, it was like, in the absence of our label that we just left, who put all the money into getting us out there, this was a tangible way for us to be in contact with people. People who still wanted to mess with our music – even though we wouldn't be visible – because we didn't have the marketing money behind us anymore.
And we were like, “Oh, the internet, where people can talk directly to us!” It wasn’t even so much like, “This is gonna be great for business.” [rubs hands together] [laughter]
There wasn't that mindset yet. It just didn't exist.
Phesto: Yeah. There's always a glass half empty side of it too, like the glass half full is, “Man, look what we did. We had a website.” The glass half empty is, “Damn, we could have been selling other people's music too.”
Yeah, I remember being a fan of Del the Funkee Homosapien first with “Mistadobalina.” Then once you guys dropped, I got Casual’s album, Extra Prolific…
Everybody in Hieroglyphics has been part of a collective. A juggernaut. I feel like you guys are one of the most iconic collectives in hip-hop. What does it mean to perform in a place like the de Young Museum that has its own legacy in the Bay Area? It's almost like one legacy through hip-hop and then another one through art.
A-Plus: This is a hell of a ride. One thing we always go off of, since we were kids, we watched some of our favorite rappers fall off, and it was always because they started getting used to where they were at. And for us, one of our things that we stayed on, is that every single moment of this, our dream’s still coming true.
We’re coming off of being in the first hip-hop exhibit in the Oakland Museum of California in 2018. I'm still high off that! I took my mom, kid and family to that, and they're like, “Look at what you did!” I've seen all of them there with their families.
So, to be here at the de Young when that happened in 2018, it’s like I'm chicken skin right now, you know what I'm saying? It's like, “This shit is surreal, and it stayin’ surreal.”
The honor is immense, and I don't think I’m gonna fully be able to unpack it until after this is over and I get to acclimate back to like, “That just happened,” mode. You know?
Yeah. ‘Cause in early hip-hop, like back in the late ‘70s with Basquiat. From graffiti artists doing visual art in all these museums. I feel like there’s always been this convergence with museum, because hip-hop is an art form and it’s a culture. So, that’s one of the things I was curious about: What does it mean to be in a space like this? Not to mention creating the hip-hop festival Hiero Day, which is amazing. Phenomenal.
How does it feel to make a space for the Bay Area and the world to really celebrate and recognize your impact? ‘Cause it’s almost like getting your due in a sense. Was that a part of making Hiero Day, “You know what, let’s find a space to let people honor us in a way that we weren’t able to do before?”
Tajai: I think really for Hiero Day, it was really about finding a space to honor the people who got us to where we are. It was like a block party started off as like, “Hey, let's throw a party to thank our city for all that it's done.” And then it’s sort of grown exponentially since then to like, “Hey let’s throw the best party that our city has ever had. No,” [smiles, laughter] “but you know, it's like a big mixtape though. Let's get all the artists we’ve listened to over the years."
So we've had Pete Rock, Yukmouth, Griselda, Little Brother, and that's just this year. You see what I’m saying? Diamond D. You know what I'm saying though? I think it's more of a celebration of Oakland, than a celebration of Hiero. We’re at the point where it’s like, we don’t even really need to close the show. We would rather just be part of the show and honor all these other people.
It’s called Hiero Day because it’s convenient, branding-wise. But I don’t think it ever a monument to ourselves – I’m not saying that to be fake humble or no shit like that. It literally was like, “Yo, let’s throw a great show for everybody.” And now that it's expanded to a weekend, we have 45 sessions with Breakbeat Lou, Dante Ross…
But you know, we’re bringing out cats that put us on and got us to where we are. And that to me is the greatness of it. It’s not really about Hiero. It's great that we're part of it but we wanna show where we are in that thing. It feels great.
Phesto: To that point, the idea for Hiero day was actually started by a fan. A fan hit us... I don't know if he hit us directly or...
Tajai: It was on a message board or something. That internet thing.
Phesto: Yeah, he was like “nine-three” should be Hiero Day lets make 9/3 for ‘93, obviously: Hiero Day, September 3rd. We just took it one step further and said, “Hey, let's also throw a party that day.” And then it was like 100 people there and then I went home changed clothes, and it was like 6,000. [laughter] For real, though. Seriously.
Tajai: That's really how it went.
A-Plus: And for the history of what it means to us all being from Oakland. Oakland has been through transformations. We grew up with Festival at the Lake, Carijama and rap concerts.
Hip-hop got banned in Oakland for mad years. We grew up without being able to go to concerts and have these festivals. And for a long amount of time, even after we came out, you couldn’t have shows in Oakland, people’s getting lit up, and it was like promoters wouldn’t have it and literally they stopped having hip-hop concerts.
As kids, I remember we used to rap, but we went to Festival at the Lake one day and saw some people rapping and that’s the day we decided to be a group!
Tajai: Yeah. …we decided to be rappers, yeah.
Wow…
A-Plus: You know what I’m saying? After so many years of Oakland not havin’ that, Hiero Day ended up representing that for Oakland again. That goes back to his point, it's not really an homage to us. It's us giving a homage to what got us here.
People from the Bay remember Festival at the Lake, they remember Carijama, they remember how much hip-hop was tied into the community before that long break. And now that it's back, the support we get for throwing this event just shows it. It’s the culture of our town. Our little small-ass town, this melting pot out here, creates all of these new sounds. Hiero Day is really just showing homage to all of the things in the world that make us so individual. We get to show it and be a part of it.
It's like, man, how can you beat that?
Can we go back to your earlier comment, about how Souls of Mischief could be bigger now you were when you first came out. Being independent probably helped you create your own name.
Tajai: Oh, definitely. We'd be gone.
A-Plus: When we left Jive, or when we got booted off Jive, we had other record labels that would be like, “Pfft, Jive trippin’. What you all wanna do?”
We decided, “Fuck that shit. We can go independent.”
And to what he just said, if we would have taken one of those deals, which would probably have been lucrative at the time, we wouldn't be here right now, at all. I'd put the house on it. I'm sure we'd all put the house on that.
That’s it. Appreciate you all just for being here, for real!
You were part of my development as a young man. When I really started to embody hip-hop for myself your music was my soundtrack and so to sit here with you guys is definitely an honor, so thanks.
Tajai: Thank you.
A-Plus: Appreciate your time.
To learn more visit: soulsofmischief.com | hieroday.com