Emcee Steven Smith says its hard growing up in Centralias rougher parts, with drug problems and drive-by shootings constantly corrupting minds. Too many people fall into that trap, he said, and hed rather see the struggle played out in music than in street violence.
He led a hip hop showcase this weekend at Maximilians bar in Chehalis, where local acts, and a few from Tacoma, did 30-minute sets for the Friday night crowd.
Better known around town by his stage name, AbstraKt, Smith says the music of local artists is a reaction to the world they knew growing up.
This is just some grimy underground hip hop — waiting to be heard, Smith said. This is real grimy Centralia style. This is growing up hard in the meth scene.
The show was organized by Jason Kennedy, once known simply as Kennedy, but who now calls himself The Krisis. He said he wanted to bring the music to Chehalis as a legitimate art form with the potential to make people think about their place in society. He tried to make a distinction between hip hop and rap — long criticized for its themes of misogyny and drug abuse.
Hate is something you do, and anger is something you feel, Kennedy said. Rap is something you do, and hip hop is something you feel.
Kennedy said he had a hard time finding a local bar to host the showcase, but Maxs owner Rhonda Carl agreed. Her husband, Maximilian — the establishments namesake — said he didnt quite understand the music, but he liked to see people having a good time.
When I was going to open a bar, I figured it would be a working mans bar — the kind of place where we dont care if youre dirty or smelly or whatever, Maximilian said. And this? This is fine, too. Its just a little different.
The show was sponsored by Wired energy drinks, represented by two women wearing fishnet stockings and cutoff jean skirts. Other than the vocalists, Roxy Norris and Jaima Kortlover held most of the rooms attention.
We have to be sexy for Wired, Norris said. Girls are supposed to be sexy.
They danced alongside Rochester native Jake Cooley, known as Young Fast with a Tacoma group called The Avenue. He said the show was a good homecoming for him.
I rarely come back to this town and when I get here its a nostalgic feeling, Cooley said. A lot of people Ive grown up with here have died.
Cooleys parents were out at the show, and said despite their lack of hip hop acumen, theyre proud of their son.
Its probably the same way our parents thought about our music, said Jakes mom, Tina Cooley. Its a little different.
Cooleys dad, Pat, said hes glad his son found an outlet for his talent.
Im proud of him, he said. The language could be toned down a little bit, but Im proud of him.
Cooleys brother James, who worked as a bouncer at the back door of the bar, said hes not quite sure where his brother found hip hop culture, but it didnt come from Rochester.
We pretty much just go four-wheeling, said James Cooley. Thats just what we do in Rochester.
In the middle of Kennedys set, laced with political statements about the Iraq War, he appeared to be overtaken with emotion and ran outside to regroup.
There aint no high like that, said Kennedy, crouched and shirtless near the train tracks alongside the Lewis County Historical Museum. I just love the way it makes you feel.
Smith said thats what its all about — creating something and being proud of that creation, as if to avoid some well-trodden path of self-destruction.
Weve seen people here who we grew up and went to high school with, and then they became junkies in prison, Smith said. We found something beyond drugs.
