De La Soul on their belated streaming debut: ‘It felt like we were being erased from history’
You were one of the first non-guitar headline acts at Glastonbury [in 1990]. Was the crowd ready for you? JulestheRunKelvin Mercer, AKA Posdnuos: I didn’t really know that, but we were pulled into a world that was already at superstar status. We were learning on the job. The first tour we ever did was with LL Cool J, NWA, Slick Rick and Public Enemy. When we got to Glastonbury, I don’t think we were used to the size of the place and we didn’t know the weight of the name, but people seemed to love us.
What’s the story behind the laughter at the beginning of [Gorillaz’s] Feel Good Inc? VerulamiumParkRangerVincent Mason, AKA Maseo: My laugh was always considered pretty infectious. I did it on U Don’t Wanna BDS and it worked. One night, I laughed through the whole song and he [Posdnuos] was like: “He just comes out and laughs and gets a standing ovation.” When we did the Gorillaz record, Damon [Albarn] whispered the rhyme in my ear and I knew exactly where he wanted me to laugh.
Will the physical reissues of your albums be exactly the same as the originals, or did you need to redo some of the samples? johnnymoseleyPosdnuos: A lot of work went into getting hold of the masters and remastering, but everything will sound as tight and beautiful as you remember.Maseo: It was frustrating that our first six albums weren’t on Spotify [owing to record company disputes]. It felt like we were being erased from history. Newer fans would ask: “Where’s your older stuff?” Now, they’ll be able to get it.
It always seemed as if Prince Paul was your fourth member. How much was he a part of your early style? Lott49Maseo: The first three albums were Paul’s as much as ours. We started this together and he understood what we were trying to achieve. We all produced, but, having been in Stetsasonic, Paul knew how to navigate the studio, so we learned so much from him. We’ve worked together on the reissues and we hope to do something in the future.
Does it frustrate you that such a deep catalogue is overlooked by many in favour of your first two albums? ChuckLogoPosdnuos: Every piece of work we’ve ever done has a special place in my heart, but I understand that 3 Feet High and Rising was a groundbreaking album. It made people understand that you don’t have to follow certain rules to make music. But I hope people do take time to appreciate the other albums.
Who was Jeff, the kid rapping on The Mack Daddy on the Left? Where is he now? Lott49Maseo: Dave’s cousin [Dave is David Jolicoeur, AKA Trugoy the Dove]. He was 12 at the time. Fast forward to AOI: Bionix [2001] and he’s Philly Black on the song The Sauce.Posdnuous: He was a lot of fun. He’s got to be 40 now.
A lot of golden-era hip-hop fans look down on the mumble rap styles of today. How do you feel about it? Seuss1871Posdnuos: I don’t agree with that. When we came out, it could have been the same, like: “What is this?” But things evolve. They’re using the tools that they have, just like we were.
The storybook presentation and skits of your second album, De La Soul Is Dead, seemed wilfully combative in light of the previous album’s “gameshow” spoken-word segments. What do you make of it now? sandamianoPosdnuos: We had no problem poking fun at ourselves. We thought we were doing great things, but we had no problem with saying, like: “OK, the kid didn’t like it, he threw it in the garbage.”Maseo: On the second album, we learned the importance of controlling the narrative. I learned early on that a hit record can hurt your entire body of work if you let the industry control your narrative.
What was/is the creative energy like in the studio when you work together? OptigramPosdnuos: In the early days, it would be: “Mmm, I’ve got an idea,” and it could be Dave or Paul saying: “Great. Let me add this.” People would come by and end up on the record ’cause we did a lot of skits and crowd participation. DJ Quik has a theory that when you record on two-inch magnetic tape, the tape picks up the energy in the room, so it ends up on the actual recording. We can now do great things with digital, but I think on that first album you can really hear all the fun we had.
Has technology changed how you make music, or do you still buy vinyl and use decks? Lott49Posdnuos: In the beginning, samplers meant you could do whatever came into your head. Using a harmoniser meant that, for Say No Go, I could put the beginning of [Hall and Oates’] I Can’t Go for That (No Can Do) over a Sly Stone sample and change the pitch so they fitted. Nowadays, I surf the web. There’s this plethora of music and sound, so I’ve incorporated more than digging for records.
You’ve collaborated with a lot of British artists, but one of my favourites was with the sadly departed Ty. Any particular memories of this underrated artist? CiaranNorrisPosdnuos: Ty was, and will always be, my brother. He was just such a kindhearted individual. His quiet, friendly way of expressing things was reminiscent of things we did. He was very creative, had great concepts. He was just an all-round beautiful dude.
Could you tell us a story about working with MF Doom? 712newPosdnuos: Wow. The same. He was a fellow Long Island brother with his brother Subroc and Onyx the Birthstone Kid [who formed the hip-hop trio KMD]. We used to see each other around the hip-hop scene and he was an amazing loss. In the studio, he didn’t have the mask on. He was like a kid: “Pos, what do you think of this?” with this sneaky little laugh with his hand over his mouth. Then he’d get in the booth and lay down a rhyme so mindblowing I’d have to rewrite mine.
When I was a teenager, I had a washed-out De La daisy T-shirt that fell apart. Have you kept any mementoes?Lott49Posdnuos: I am a De La Soul memorabilia hoarder. I have pretty much every shirt, every medallion, every flyer from a DJ party. I have it all in storage boxes.Maseo: I’ve got a few things. My shirt from the 1989 tour with LL and Slick Rick just floats around the house. My daughter wears it.
You were pop stars; now, you are icons. Are you comfortable with fame? tmstmsPosdnuos: It turned out beyond our wildest dreams. When I was a kid, I looked up to David Bowie and the Rolling
Stones, who had proper careers – I always thought a rap artist should be able to do that. I dreamed that De La Soul could be the Rolling Stones. Now, I look out over an audience at a festival or family show and see three generations of people. It’s absolutely humbling. I met Ron Wood from the Stones at the Jazz Cafe [in London] when we were watching Bobby Womack. He said: “Isn’t Bobby amazing?” and I said yes, but I was thinking: “It’s amazing that I’m sitting here talking to you.”
•3 Feet High and Rising is reissued on vinyl on 3 March. De La Soul’s first six albums will be available on streaming services from the same day
ing, with hair and sweat and Vaseline included – would have been shocking for most contemporary readers. One only need look at the work of Hyatt’s contemporaries, working-class writers such as Delaney and Joe Orton, to see how the mere suggestion of homosexuality was a profoundly taboo-breaking literary gesture. Yet Hyatt declines to use Leda’s homosexuality as device to shock the audience; while it would be too much to say Leda is proud of his sexuality, he certainly isn’t ashamed of it or himself. At best it is a source of pleasure, excitement, transgression; sometimes it is merely a curious character trait, a peccadillo. “My own experience,” Leda muses “tells me that more love goes into the thought of homosexuality than the practice.” Other gays are neither radical heroes nor the pathetic, self-hating fairies of, say, Mart Crowley’s Boys in the Band. This frankness makes Love, Leda a singular work; a contemporary portrait of working-class gay London in the years running up to decriminalisation that neither flatters nor sensationalises. In doing so, Hyatt transforms gay sex and love from an abject taboo to a deeply human intimacy.
It’s so tempting to rewrite history, to imagine the febrile power Hyatt’s book would have held in the hands of a young gay reader had it found a contemporaneous publisher. To think of how it might have shocked, appalled and beguiled in turn, and perhaps even found itself the subject of an obscenity trial. As with any lost work, we think of what might have followed it had
Hyatt not decided to take his own life in 1972, or had a new generation of writers found it.
Yet to see lost works onlyas counter histories obscures the value that they still have for the contemporary reader. In his sympathetic approach to the struggles of a working-class homosexual, clearly drawn from his own experience, and his tender portrayal of how the reality of sex presses upon personal relationships, Hyatt produced a powerful story of desire, depression and listless youth that still resonates. It’s thanks to his remarkable frankness that Love, Leda remains fresh, tender, even erotic, some 60 years after it was written.
• This piece is taken from Huw Lemmey’s introduction to Love, Leda by Mark Hyatt published by Peninsula (£10.99). To order a copy go to guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.
It’s tempting to imagine the febrile power Hyatt’s book would have held in the hands of a young gay reader