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Chicanos’ Time for Rhythm ‘n’ Rhyme

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TIMES STAFF WRITER

Once upon a time not long ago, Apartment 13 in the barrio, living with my brothers and a single mother, no heat so stack up the covers . . . Kids playing jacks, homies selling sacks, junkies in the back with a baseball bat . . . Bars on the window, a jail cell, I can’t wait until the day that I bail out

Ghetto Apartments--Eddie Montelongo as Monte Loco

With his book smarts and baby face, Eddie Montelongo would have a tough time convincing anyone that he’s a burgeoning rap star.

But step inside Wyno Records in Oxnard--where Chicano rappers come to lay down rhymes and chase big-money dreams--and watch the college student-turned-street-poet, diving deep into an underground scene quietly emerging in Ventura County and starting to make noise across the Southwest.

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It’s about the look, and the wiry 26-year-old has got that down with his baggy pants, backward baseball cap, and a bulky silver chain dangling from his neck.

But it’s also about attitude. And when he’s swallowed whole by his rap alter ego “Monte Loco,” he’s got plenty of that.

Launching into a head-bouncing, chest-thumping verse, Montelongo attacks the microphone, his arms flailing, his mouth twisted into a sneer. Purple veins bulge from his neck and forehead as he spits out lyrics spiced with Spanish and packed with straight-from-the-street depictions of barrio life.

“It’s like I become a different person,” said Montelongo, who after a decade behind the mike has completed four solo CDs and earned enough money to help put himself through Cal State Northridge.

“I just close that door, throw on the headphones, and it’s like another world.”

In Latino neighborhoods from San Diego to Sacramento, young rappers are busting into new territory with their brand of barrio music, a raw and rugged sound slowly gaining mainstream acceptance after coming of age on independent labels and in underground markets.

In Ventura County alone, more than a dozen artists are pumping out these bass-driven beats, relying on word of mouth and street-level awareness to push their music at swap meets and mom-and-pop record stores.

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The emerging rap scene marks a turning point in an industry long dominated by African Americans, observers say. Many believe it’s only a matter of time before a wave of Latino rappers washes over the genre, hitting it big with crossover expressions of social consciousness and defiant bilingual statements of Chicano pride.

But the underground movement also offers up a new voice in the Latino community, one that provides unflinching commentary on the social ills and celebrations of barrio life while helping youngsters to steer clear of trouble and earn a little money and self-respect.

“I think what they are doing is very important,” said Oxnard Mayor Manuel Lopez, noting that Mexican people have long used song to chronicle life, from the ballads of Pancho Villa to modern-day corridos rich with the exploits of drug barons and tales of immigrant struggle.

“People may find their lyrics hard to take or disagree with what they have to say,” he said, “but I think they offer a valuable viewpoint for our community.”

Much of the music is not for the weak of heart.

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With names like “Madogg” and Terminal Madness, rappers are recording tracks spiked with obscenities and references to drugs, sex and gangs. Most of the locally produced CDs carry parental advisories warning of explicit content. Critics fear that such lyrics serve to glorify crime and feed negative stereotypes.

But others are quick to defend the message and the messengers, arguing that rap provides Chicano youngsters with a unique forum to speak their minds on everything from cruising the boulevard to the politics that perpetuate a barrio underclass.

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More important, it gives young Chicanos--often the sons of farm laborers working the equivalent of full-time jobs polishing and pushing their talent--an opportunity to capitalize on the very poverty and futility woven through their music.

“It has to be accepted that there’s going to be a certain stark reality that’s going to come from this form of musical expression,” said Raul Ruiz, a veteran Chicano studies professor at Cal State Northridge.

“A lot of it is going to deal with what is happening with these young men, whether it be in the area of police repression or gang life or poverty,” he added. “That’s the thing about these rappers: They slap you upside the head with their reality.”

Local rappers say they know their lyrics can be controversial, their ideas hard to swallow. But they say they write only about what they know and what they’ve seen. Sometimes the music is upbeat and optimistic; other times, angry and challenging.

But it appears to have plenty of appeal, judging by those who buy their CDs, flock to their shows and clamor for their autographs.

“Something big is happening if we continue to get paid,” said Robert Morales, 28, who makes up half of a crew called Brown Intentions.

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He and his 23-year-old partner, Juan Martinez, have branched out to produce other artists. They have even launched their own hip-hop clothing line--baggy T-shirts and oversized sweatshirts under the name “BI Gangsta Gear.”

“There are a lot of rappers in garages making this [music]--hundreds of them,” Martinez added. “Right now, it’s our turn.”

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We’re going places, seeing faces that we never saw/ I can’t believe I achieved the status of a ghetto star/ This hip-hop game’s got my brain going so insane/ So toast another one up, and burn into the game

Going Places--Brown Intentions, with guest artist Monte Loco

Rooted in the hip-hop culture of the late ‘70s and early ‘80s, the “brown underground” spun out of an era when vinyl records were king and dance-club deejays ruled the airwaves with fresh mixes of soul, funk and R&B.;

As that movement spread into Ventura County, Oxnard residents Luis Ontiveras and Alex Flores got in on the ground floor.

After pursuing similar musical interests on separate tracks through the ‘80s, they formed the hip-hop duo Backyard Rangers a decade ago. They later became the Earthquake Institute, a rap group and production company for their own music as well as others’.

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Although other Chicano rappers were content making music about barrio life, Ontiveras and Flores--both 27--concentrated on pumping out songs with more universal appeal.

“Typically, Chicano rap has been about things other Chicanos can relate to, whether it’s street culture or low riders or some of the more negative aspects like jail or drugs,” said Ontiveras, sitting in the group’s production studio--the second-story bedroom of a north Oxnard home.

“We’re trying to take it outside of the neighborhood and onto a global scale,” he said. “Groups that choose to be creative, that choose to use lyrics not only Chicanos can relate to but people of all nationalities, are going to be the ones that end up winning the big game.”

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The stakes are high. Revenue from hip-hop music accounts for nearly 10% of the $14-billion-a-year in U.S. record sales. And in a genre that already has demonstrated its multiracial appeal--an estimated 70% of hip-hop recordings are purchased by white youths--artists and producers believe there is big money to be made in the burgeoning Latino market, the nation’s fastest-growing segment of music buyers.

Even now, the underground is doing big business across the Southwest and Mexico, said Sal Rojas, president of Fullerton-based Digital Aztlan.

Rojas, who launched the multimedia company in 1997 to help spread the word about Latino music and culture, lists more than 60 hip-hop artists on his Web site--including such mainstream pioneers as Cypress Hill and Kid Frost.

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“This generation of rappers has been able to see others break that barrier, and they’re saying, ‘If Frost can do it, we can do it too,’ ” Rojas said. “Oxnard is right up there. They have a strong little scene out there.”

Indeed, a good deal of the local scene is dedicated to boosting Oxnard. The music is peppered with references to local streets, apartment projects and even the 805 area code. But there are also references to more negative aspects, such as gangs and street violence.

Oxnard Police Det. Terry Burr, who collects the CDs to keep tabs on gang activity, said that although some of the music is well done, he’s bothered by lyrics that glorify gangs and incite violence.

“When it comes to challenging other gangs, we don’t agree with that,” Burr said. “That’s where there is a real potential for problems.”

There are other concerns as well. The music is often loaded with references to alcohol and drugs.

A representative of an Oxnard-based Latino advocacy group was so bothered by the cover of Brown Intentions’ first CD--featuring a pair of beer-guzzling rappers--that she fired off a letter of complaint to the rap group.

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Francisco Dominguez, director of El Concilio del Condado de Ventura, said he wasn’t aware of the letter. But he said El Concilio has an ongoing campaign to curb alcohol-related problems in the Latino community and he worries that such images run counter to that effort.

“We would never try to censor their music,” Dominguez said. “But I have concerns about anything that would appear to be promoting this as an attractive lifestyle or [alcohol] consumption among minors.”

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Episodes of my life have been like, sometimes sad but I always have good times/ These are the tales, the freaky tales, episodes of my life that I tell so well

Episodes--Brown Intentions

At Wyno Records in Oxnard, the studio Brown Intentions built to further the underground cause, Martinez and Morales say people have the wrong idea about barrio rap.

Although the songs are rooted in reality, they are meant to entertain and add insight to street life, not as a code of conduct. In that way, the rappers say, the underground movement is driven by the same rebellious spirit that gave birth to rock ‘n’ roll and other alternative music.

But they make no apologies for their hard-core stance, saying anything less would be dishonest and disrespectful of where they come from and how they grew up.

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“We are not gangsters--if you listen, we are not throwing it up in a bad or crazy way,” said Morales, who goes by the rap name “2”. “We just talk about what we are and what we’ve seen.”

Added Martinez, who goes by the rap name “Down”: “It’s better that we’re in the studio yelling that stuff than out in the streets making it happen.”

Friends since childhood, the pair have been together so long that they often finish each other’s sentences. They started rapping more than a decade ago, while in elementary school and living in the same public housing project in Oxnard’s La Colonia district.

Coming up through local schools, they performed at talent shows, school rallies and backyard parties. In 1997, when Martinez had saved enough money working in his parents’ bakery, he bought a keyboard and four-track recorder, learned how to produce beats and put together a demo tape the pair shopped at independent record stores.

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The music caught the ear of Familia Records President Murry Brumfield, who liked what he heard and asked for more.

Brown Intentions has since put out two CDs for the independent record label, one of the nation’s largest distributors of Latino rap. They’re also recording projects and producing other artists under their Wyno Record label.

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“We decided this is what we wanted when we started,” Morales said. “We’ve been aiming high and not giving up on ourselves.”

The pair are reluctant to say exactly how much their record deals have been worth. But Martinez offered that he has just bought a new house and last month ordered a custom-built ’62 Impala convertible.

The duo also have poured much of their earnings back into the studio to help produce their music and elevate a stable of up-and-coming artists.

On a recent afternoon, rappers crowded into Wyno Records to work on a CD by a collection of artists known as the Oxnard All Stars. Montelongo was there. So was the group Terminal Madness, a trio of Oxnard rhymers who specialize in Spanish-language lyrics.

This hardly seems like the place where Chicano rap would be born. Brown Intentions’ studio is tucked into the back room of a two-story home in a new north Oxnard subdivision. Its walls are filled with posters of rap artists and scantily clad women holding beer bottles. Two signs flank the glass-enclosed recording booth: “Cowboys Leave Your Guns At the Door” and “No One Under 21 Allowed.”

The whole scene is sniffed out by an overly friendly pit bull named Wyno.

Martinez, a self-taught engineer and producer, orchestrated the session from behind a mixing board teeming with levers and dials and green-and-yellow lights that rise and fall to a seductive hip-hop beat.

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No one here pays for studio time. Martinez and Morales believe it’s their obligation to help others bust into the business.

“It’s all about representing the hood and blowing up Oxnard,” said Martinez, using rap parlance for putting the city on the rap industry map. “It’s a role we’ve got to play for life.”

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Mr. Madogg spinning rhymes about life, making mad money, taking care of my wife/ Fly jewels, fly clothes, all my childhood dreams, only lights and cameras, not the laser red beams/ No more gang life, no more street games, no more who’s that, only nationwide fame

Rap Millionaire--Madogg

Richard Ordaz, owner of Peacock’s Record Bar in Oxnard, has seen the local hip-hop craze take off in the last two years. He’s now got a whole display case shelf set aside for local rappers’ releases.

And customers, ranging from 15 to 25 years old, always want to know when the next release is coming out.

“There’s definitely a demand,” said Ordaz at his downtown record store, where rappers often come to find old school albums to mix with their lyrics. “I think it’s great--it’s always good to see the locals doing good.”

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It’s impossible to tell how well local rappers are selling, since their music is primarily sold through independent stores that do not report music sales to SoundScan.

And of course, for all those making any kind of money in the rap game, there are dozens of others whose heads are full of rhymes but who are having little luck breaking into the business.

“I’ve been banging on the door, trying to get someone to throw it open,” said Moises De La Rosa, a 22-year-old Ventura rapper who goes by the name “Czar.” At his Cabrillo Village home, he’s got a dresser drawer full of raps. He and his partner, Roman Correa, 22, have produced three short-length CDs and shopped them around.

“Everybody says, ‘Yeah, we like you, we like you,’ but there’s never any follow-through,” De La Rosa said. “I’m not a dumb little kid putting my whole hopes and dreams into this. But right now I feel like this is my career and I’m ready, believe me.”

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At Backhouse Productions in Oxnard, Edward Rios makes rap dreams come true. The engineer and producer has been building his independent recording company, tucked into a converted garage at his parents’ home, since he was a sophomore at Rio Mesa High.

Trained at a Los Angeles trade school, “E-Dub,” as he is known in rap circles, has helped many of the artists get their start and continues to produce tracks for rising local stars.

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But artists also come from all over--Los Angeles, Santa Barbara and Arizona--to lay down their rhymes.

“Here in Oxnard there’s a long history of underground music--it’s just taken time to get some exposure and develop a fan base,” said Rios, a recent Oxnard College graduate who dreams of one day launching his own record label. “I always knew there would be a market for it, it was just a matter of time.”

Like the rappers themselves, the 22-year-old Oxnard native said he has known since an early age that this was the path he wanted to follow. Even back in grade school, he and childhood friend Vince Martinez--known as Madogg--would write lyrics and record demos.

Martinez, 23, has gone on to put out two CDs. And he’s got his sights set on plenty more.

“Of course, who ain’t in it for the money and fame,” said Martinez, who helps run a Mexican food restaurant by day and raps by night. “But music is part of my life. It’s something I love doing. And maybe someday someone will want to follow in my footsteps.”

For KPWR-FM disc jockey Khool-Aid, an Oxnard resident and Rios’ girlfriend, it’s the work ethic of the local rappers that impresses her the most.

“These are guys who work 9 to 5 every day and then put everything they have financially and mentally into their dream,” said Khool-Aid, who rules the airwaves midday on the youth-targeted party station.

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“It’s all about desire,” she said. “That’s what I admire about these guys. They’re coming out of their own pocket to follow their dreams.”

For his part, Rios has been content to work behind the scenes where he can apply his keen ear for rhythm and satisfy his big taste for money.

And he’s got no doubt that one day soon it will be satisfied.

“We’ve come a long way but there are still a lot of steps we have to take,” said Rios, at work in his studio where Madogg is helping two new El Rio rappers--Jaime Navarro, 23, and Michael Reyes, 21--lay down their first tracks.

“But eventually what’s going to happen is that this is going to go mainstream, and some of us will benefit from that when it happens,” he said. “Imagine, someone could sell millions if they locked it down right.”

Millions. The word resonates long and hard with Eddie Montelongo. When he dares to dream big--which is often--he dreams of nationwide radio airplay, big-time MTV rotation and possibly even a Grammy.

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But for now it’s back to work in the studio. He says he dedicates more than 30 hours a week to his music. He is scheduled to travel to Utah next month to perform at a car show and is due this fall to put out another solo release.

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There are other things he could do. He graduated earlier this month from Cal State Northridge with a degree in art, and he puts together many of the graphics the local rappers use on their CD jackets.

But for now, his world revolves around rap.

“I really can’t complain,” said Montelongo, who like so many others started rapping when he was a kid and received family support to break into the business.

“We’re actually sitting back there making money, enough to pay our bills, enough to get back in the studio,” he said. “And on top of that, we’re making history. Basically we’re taking Chicano rap music and trying to make it something everyone can identify with.”

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