K’Naan
Interview by Black Dog Bone
You keep your African accent and culture present in your music, more than other rappers who come from Africa that I’ve heard, which is really positive. Do you do this consciously or is it just the way you are?
It’s because I was born and raised in Somalia. I came here wh
en I was 14 years old, until then I was in Somalia. Growing up in Somalia you develop a sense of who you are. By the time you’re 14 years old you have a certain system of values and a culture in you. That will remain with you and help grow and guide you no matter where you are. I don’t have any identity crises or anything like that.
A lot of foreign people when they come to America, they try to hide their culture. They try to be as American as possible. American society makes you feel ashamed of your culture, like you come from an inferior culture, like you are backward. In fact American culture is the most backward culture I have seen. I was so impressed when I saw the way you’re putting the African image forward.
I was raised by people who were very proud of who they were and that were significant to their culture. When you come from that you know the worth of yourself and your people and your culture. Even when you’re young you start to have your own corner and your own identity. You don’t necessarily want to give up your identity to fit in with everybody else. It’s a rare thing and it’s an important thing, and I had it as a teenager. I remember coming to North America and with what little I could say, observing the culture but also explaining to people my culture. Bein proud of it.
Right now we need more people like you. With TV and internet becoming so widespread and available, all cultures are becoming homogenized and all of us are losing our cultural identity. We are losing diversity. It’s not that Americans are embracing African culture. The rest of the world is becoming more Westernized.. You see it in music, clothing and lifestyle. Everything is becoming bland and washed out. Also, if we don’t have our roots to our country and land, we don’t flower or give fruits.
Exactly. That’s a very important point. Without the roots, we cannot give fruit. It’s so true. Also I don’t think of having your own culture as some kind of handicap. I think it’s something that propels you; it’s helpful, not hurtful. It’s amazing to have your culture. It’s amazing to know yourself and have your identity, to be out here and represent something different to showcase something other than what is usually showcased. I think those are really great qualities.
I feel like in your first album “The Dusty Foot Philosopher” you had more of an African feel. “Troubadour”, your new album, has less of an African feel. Are you moving more into a typical Hip Hop sound?
No. It depends on how you see Hip Hop. The content is pretty much the same as the first album. What is different is the sonics. It’s not even so much the music that is different, because on this album you have songs like “Fire In Freetown” which is very much something of its own. You wouldn’t call that a Hip Hop song. There are a lotta different influences in this album, just as there was on the first album. The difference is the sonic quality. The difference is that this album was recorded with a lot of money. So it will sound bigger, it will have more of a radio quality. Everyone has their own translations of how they perceive music, and I respect that. But if you ask me my opinion, this has more African elements than the other album. Because eight of the songs on this album are from actual African recordings from the Sixties. The melodies, the samples, are coming from and inspired by Sixties Ethiopian music.
I’m probably responding to the overall feel of the album, I just loved that first album. Also it was the first time I heard K’Naan, it was a different sound to me.
I get you. I know a lot of people feel that the “Dusty Foot Philosopher” was their album. But actually a lot of “Dusty Foot Philosopher” fans prefer this album. For me, I never want to repeat myself. It would be dishonest to say: I’m gonna do “Dusty Foot Philosopher part 2.” I’m not that type of an artist. I don’t like to be predicted; I don’t like to do the same thing twice at all.
You also bring the tribal element to your music and your image. The nomadic tribal lifestyle. Most people in America don’t connect with our nomadic tribal roots at all. At one time or another we were all tribal people.
Yeah. It goes back to pride. It goes back to what you feel are your qualities and what you feel are your handicaps. If you think of being an African as something that will alienate you from people then you’ll do whatever you can to get rid of your Africanness. But if you think of it as something that will enlighten others and give you your space in the universal context, then you will showcase it.
A lot of people are confused about what Africa is. What we get in the media about Africa is very negative. All we hear about Africa in the media is about war or poverty. What people don’t realize is that this is a result of European intervention in the form of colonization and globalization. Africa is a beautiful land, rich in resources, has been forever. But outside forces have disturbed its beautiful balance and made it a mess.
I know. The history is so effective in our everyday conduct. Some people like to ignore how history has gotten us to where we are today. Some people embrace it. It doesn’t mean that you have to feel empowered by history or even made guilty by history. But just to acknowledge it is a good thing.
When your first came to America where were you living?
In New York City. My father was already in New York. He came long before I got there, when I was four. When I was 13 I came to live in Harlem.
When you first came you spoke your African language?
Only my language. I didn’t know any English at all. I was young and I only understood my language. I thought that every Black person was from Somalia.
People in the States probably thought you were African American?
Yeah, except we didn’t have all the cool clothes that everyone else had so they could tell we were foreigners.
Was there a big Somali community in New York?
No, there wasn’t, but I had a couple of relatives who had lived in New York for a long time and understood how things worked, so they took us around New York City and showed us how a basketball game works and stuff like that.
Before you came to New York were you doing music? Was your family into music?
My family’s musical background is very deep. They are prominent musicians back in Somalia and prominent poets. My grandfather was one of the most loved poets of the country. He was so important to the people that when he died they lowered the flag of the country for 3 days. That’s my mother’s father. My mother is a poet. My aunty is the most famous singer of all time in Somalia. Her name is Magool. So I had this upbringing that I was around these cultural warriors who changed the way people think. That’s what I was around. At the age of 5 I’d be taken to political theater and I’d be asked to interpret what I’d seen that night, the relevance of all the metaphors and poetry. At 7 I was considered a poet by my grandfather. Then when I was around 9 years old my father who was living in Harlem sent to me a tape of Eric B and Rakim’s album “Paid In Full”. So that was my introduction to Hip Hop.
Your father just thought you would like it?
No, this is how it happened: you know how children in that part of the world, when they speak to relatives who are in America they ask for something to be sent to them. Usually it’s clothes or something. My brother and sister were asking for clothes, my dad was on the phone. A couple of days before that I was in someone’s car and had heard a song with a rap in it. I talked to me dad and said I want this music I heard that sounds like rhythm poetry. He said, “That’s called Hip Hop. I’ll send you a tape.” That’s why he sent it to me.
That’s an incredible story. The power of music, the power of Hip Hop, is that you heard one Rap song when you were in Somalia, and now you are in America and have become an international voice in Hip Hop music.
It’s pretty intense!
It’s interesting that you described Rap to be rhythm poetry. When I first heard Rap music it reminded me of tribal music because it’s mainly the drum and the vocals.
Absolutely. If you look at the Griot culture in West Africa. Hip Hop is a replica of that. If you look at every culture in Africa you find an ancient version of Hip Hop. Somalia is no exception. We had poets in the forties who used to do the “one drum” idea. They’d bang on the drum and make a rhythm, and they would almost rap over it. When I first heard Hip Hop it was both familiar and new at the same time.
It would be so beautiful if you were to do an album just with drums and your voice.
Yeah, there’s definitely something to that. There’s songs that I did just with drums.
And I hope you keep moving in that direction, showcasing your African culture.
I know what you’re sayin. The truth is that I’m in a position to change the way that people see cool, the way people see cool culture. Eventually I will be in a better position to have that impact. I think M.I.A. is doin a good job with that. It’s beautiful what she does. It’s a movement and I feel like we’re some of the people that are ahead of the movement. M.I.A. is ahead of the movement and we’re trying to bring this whole different flavor to the Western ear.
When I heard M.I.A. I was amazed. Both of her albums are so unique.
Yeah! She’s amazing. She’s also a good friend of mine. I definitely think she’s one of the bright humanists. We’ve got a lot of work to put in in America.
You can be sure that Murder Dog is behind you 100%. We always include tribal cultures and World music in Murder Dog. It’s good to see that you have fans, in the ghettos all over America as much as a mainstream audience. People who love Gangsta Rap are feeling K’Naan.
I’m glad you understand that and acknowledge that. A lotta people make the mistake—they think that I’m what they think is the other conscious rapper guys. It’s not true. My music, the way it’s heard, even though I’m great friends with these rappers that are considered conscious—Mos Def is one of my close friends—the way my music is heard by ghetto kids is not the same as that. The kids in the slums in Africa and the ghettos in America can appreciate this because it comes from them. It’s not “smarter” than them. It’s for them. And it uplifts them at the same time.
Certain conscious rappers like Common and Kanye West, they come from an intellectual educated background. They’re not rooted in African culture or ghetto culture. To me they are more book people. I don’t see that in you. You have an authentic feeling, different from conscious rappers.
The way my music translates—and I’m not talking about the quantity of how many people hear it, I’m talking about the quality of how people appreciate it—my music is received more like how Tupac was than Talib. It’s more like Tupac, it’s more emotional than intellectual. They come from a different experience, they have a different kinda credibility.
When I listen to M.I.A. or you, your whole energy has that ghetto quality, that street reality. It doesn’t matter what country you come from, it’s just the way you feel. You and M.I.A. have something about you that you can really reach the ghetto kids.
We’re working on it, it’s comin. The path is clear to me. All I do is continue to be honest in my music and it’ll get there, it’ll really get there.
I’ve never seen you perform? Will you be coming to the West Coast soon?
I think so. You’ve gotta see my show. The show I think is the most powerful element of my music. When people who love the album come out to the show they have such an experience, they’re overwhelmed. My band is incredible. I always play with a full live band. I’m in front rapping and I play drums while I’m rapping. I have my drum strapped to my body. It’s a whole ‘nother thing.
What instruments do you play?
I play a little guitar, keyboards and drums. So in my albums I play some of the sounds you’re hearing.
When you were growing up in New York and Canada did you get into Dancehall music from Jamaica too? I can hear a similarity in your music.
Yeah. That’s the Toronto influence. Toronto has got the largest presence of Jamaicans in North America outside of Jamaica. Growing up in the nineties, when everybody went to house parties all you ever heard was Dancehall. You didn’t really hear Hip Hop. In the car I would have Hip Hop, like Tupac and Nas and Biggie Smalls. And inside the party I would be listening to Yellow man and Shabba Ranks and all kinds of Dancehall. When I first started rapping kids didn’t know whether I was doing Dancehall or Rap. It was something in between.
Dancehall is more tribal than Rap.
It is. And that’s where Rap originally comes from, from Dancehall. If you go back to the originators of Rap, they were connected to Jamaican music. That’s an important connection there.
I wonder why there are so many Jamaicans in Toronto.
I don’t know, but there are. Most of the ghettos in Toronto are made up of Jamaican and Somali. It’ll be a whole couple of blocks of just Jamaican and Somali, half half like that.
I like the title of your album “Troubadour”, the travelling musician, like the ancient nomads. I feel like you put a lot of thought into everything you do.
That’s just an extension of me and my journey. My name K’Naan is my real name and it also means The Traveler. I was named The Traveler before I was born. And “The Dusty Foot Philosopher” was also based on the idea of movement, the journey. It also means somebody who is bringing a new sound to different people. I feel like I’m always on a journey, bringing something to people and then moving on.
It’s such a tribal theme, the nomad. I don’t know if you choose these titles consciously.
It’s nature. Nature doesn’t have to be a conscious thing. You don’t have to know what you’re doing when you belong to nature. You just move and live through nature. Somalis are nomads. We move. We follow the rain. That’s why I’m here. When New York didn’t work out we moved to places like Toronto and Minneapolis where the “rain”, the political rain, was there. The economic “rain” was there.
When you first came to North America did you find it to be very different from Somalia?
Yes. It was different in every sense of the word. The architecture was different, the weather, the language, the people, the cultural mix. Obviously when I came to New York City it was a big change for me.
Do you still eat Somali food or are you just eating American food now?
At home we do. When you’re on a tour like I am now, we’re doing 50 shows in 70 days. When you’re on that kind of schedule you eat what you can. On the other hand, when we played Minneapolis which is the capitol of Somalia in America we went to a Somali restaurant and feasted. We had Somali food. Every time we get to a city where we can eat our own food we do. Otherwise we’re just on the road.
I always like to eat Eritrean/Ethiopian food in Oakland. You have the flat bread and everybody eats from one big plate. Is that the way you eat in Somalia?
We eat with our hands as well, but we have different types of food. Our food is hard to explain. It seems like it’s between the Ethiopian food that you know—it’s a mix between that and Indian food. Not quite like that because we have different herbs and spices that we use. But it’s the same texture to the food, the same marinated meats. We eat rice and the rice would have all kinds of herbs and spices cooked with it. So our main dishes are usually rice and lamb.
When I eat Ethiopian food it reminds me a lot of Sri Lankan food.
Yeah, that whole region is like that. There’s been some trade in the olden days between Asia and East Africa, so there’s going to be some influences back and forth.
What do you think of Hip Hop right now? Do you like where it’s heading?
Yeah, it’s changing, isn’t it? If you asked me that 5 years ago I would’ve said: man, I don’t know. But right now there’s so many things happening in Rap that’s never happened before. The fact that my album debuted at top 30 on Billboard—that in itself is amazing. No African artist rapping about Africa had that. Then you’ve got Wale from DC, who has an African background, is doing big things.
I interviewed Wale and he said you are his favorite rapper.
He says that. I’ve read a lot of different interviews where he’s mentioned me. That’s beautiful! For him, he’s managed by Jay Z and them, and he got a lot of support in the industry. Everybody’s looking out to see what he’s gonna do. For him to say that I’m his favorite rapper is very cool. I like what he’s doing. It’s new. Rap music is getting more exciting again.
Are you familiar with the Baltimore Club sound?
I used to live in DC also. I know about Go-Go and Baltimore Club.
Are you getting a lot of attention in Europe?
Yeah, we have a little more attention there even than we do here. It seems like they were first on it. By the time I came out with “Dusty Foot Philosopher” it didn’t even come out in Europe but I had a touring career over there. I was touring Europe before I was even touring America.
There’s a lot of interesting music happening over there like Dubstep and Grime.
There is. It’s like a planet—so many cultures converge, and they allow people to be themselves. Europe is definitely more musically progressive than American. And there are a lot of good record labels releasing international music in Europe.
Your aunt, Magool, her music is available in record stores over here?
You can only get her CD’s in Somali shops in America.
Is Somali music different from Ethiopian music?
It’s different but it has similar melodic scales. That’s how you know the people are related in some way, they have similar melodic scales.
When you tour what type of artists do they book you with?
I attract a lotta different crowds—it’s always a mix. Right now I’m on tour with “Rock The Bells”. It includes me, Busta Rhymes, Nas, people like that. Then in a week I’ll be on tour with Jason Mraz, who’s a singer/songwriter. I jump from one world to another comfortably, whereas a lot of artists could not. Artists like M.I.A. can do that too. It’s because we have our own unique sound, so there’s no way you can box us in. I love that.
I can see that you will be popular in many different circles. People in the ghetto can get into your music, as can political and conscious people, and the World Music crowd will also embrace K’Naan.
Thank you. I hope so.
What is going on in Toronto with Rap music?
Toronto is becoming a sort of center for Rap. Before people knew me they knew Kardinal Offishall. Also K-Os is from Toronto. And now you have one of the most anticipated rappers in Hip Hop who comes from Toronto—that’s Drake. So you’ve got a lot of different people coming out of Toronto with completely different sounds. Kardinal Offishall is a Jamaican sound. Drake has a Southern Lil Wayne sound. Then me, I’ve got my own thing. Toronto is so culturally diverse that you can find all of this in one place.
How do you write lyrics? Where do you like to write?
There’s not a process or a method. I feel like a lucky artist because I never know how I wrote the last song I wrote. I look at my writing and I hear it in the studio and I’m like, “That’s really nice. How did I get there?” And I don’t know. Honestly. I don’t think of myself as someone that’s arrogant about my music; I just feel very lucky. I’m lucky to have a channel that’s open. I listen to the conversations of the world, I hear what poor people are thinking about. I feel like them and I write like that. I write when I need to write and it’s necessary to write. I don’t write for fun or for money.
