Mean Doe Green (aka Doey Rock) has tasted success, but it hasn’t sated his appetite

It’s a quiet Saturday night in New Era Park. Smack in the middle of this seemingly lifeless block between D and E streets is the firehouse, a distinct two-story brick building with ghostly white faces engraved above the front entry. This is the home of SoundCap Audio, the tracking and mixing studio that has produced albums by some of Sacramento’s top hip-hop artists. I’m here to meet with Sacramento’s veteran MC Mean Doe Green. You may also know him as Doey Rock.

Born Kahallie Oden, Jon Doe was the first moniker Green chose for himself when he started rapping. That soon evolved into Doey Rock. Incidentally he dropped “Mean Doe Green” in a rhyme, and as someone who adopts different personas in his music, he has embraced Mean Doe Green as an alter ego ever since.

“It was a way to reintroduce myself to people,” he later explains. “But I’m never afraid of Doey Rock, because he did a lot for me, too, alter ego-wise.”

Back at SoundCap Audio, engineer Pete Rodriguez answers the door and leads the way past the sound booth to the mixing room. The place is dimly lit and quiet. We shoot the breeze while we wait for Green to arrive. The young kids, some of them as young as 17, are the ones really tearing it up in the local hip-hop scene, he tells me.

Minutes later Green strolls in and makes his way to the black leather couch across from Rodriguez. His voice booms, loud and lucid, but he’s all jokes and smiles. This place is a safe haven for his music, he says, where he feels comfortable enough being himself while recording.

He and Rodriguez have been a team since Green began recording at Sound Cap more than two years ago. Green’s 2010 release Mind Candy Re-wrapped, as well as mixtapes Black Suits and Shovels and Hard Hats and Hand Grenades, both released last July, were recorded here. Now the two are working on the final touches of Shade Proof, Green’s upcoming LP, which is scheduled for release on Feb. 21.

It has been a three- to four-month project that has resulted in a very aggressive, “in-your-face” approach, Green later discloses, which he says will likely make listeners either love or hate him. Teaser tracks “Be Great” and “Thankful” are already posted online, both of which have attracted attention in the hip-hop blogosphere.

Though it features the likes of R&B artists Hello World, Raekwon, Tommy Nova and Arty Fresha, Shade Proof is meant to highlight his capabilities as an MC, front and center, Green says.

“I felt like I should put more of myself [into it], because I think a lot of albums that come out just have too many features,” he explains. “Hip-hop albums these days are just about who you have on the album, as opposed to the artist that’s presenting the album.”

Green only exposed Submerge to four select tracks from Shade Proof.

“I’m picky as fuck about my music being played for people,” he says.

But in those tracks alone, which include “Be Great,” Green opens up over grimy beats. And there’s a lot to open up about. He had a neglectful father. He grew up in the hood and has seen his share of “wild shit.” He watched family members fall victim to drug abuse. He watched someone get killed in his driveway.

At the end of the day he’s a street dude, he says. But that’s how he met Raekwon of Wu Tang Clan at age 17, before anyone knew who Wu Tang Clan was. That’s how he got introduced to the game of hip-hop, and he’s been at it ever since.

“I’ve been feeding kids off hip-hop, and I’m proud of that,” he reminds.

Mid-conversation, Green asks Rodriguez to bust out the weed. Rodriguez pulls out a massive nug the length of a pen, and the two get to business rolling a joint.

“Welcome to the city of trees, God dammit,” Green says.

Soon enough they’re getting ripped, and Green is answering my questions with more and more ease. Next thing I know he’s getting stuff off his chest, stuff about the commercialization of hip-hop and about the passion that fuels his songs. The following gives a taste of the conversation.

When do you think [Shade Proof] will be done?
It’ll be out on the 21st, because that’s the date we set, and I don’t have a choice. And when it’s out I’ll be happy with it, because I work well in pressured situations for some odd reason. But I’ve been MCing for so long at this point finding comfort zones is different now, because quite frankly I’m not in the same hunger state that I was in four years ago.

What do you mean?
Yo, MCing is about hunger. This shit was created because people didn’t have shit to do when they was starving and they wanted to put their talents on display. That’s what MCing is about, “I have something to say, hear my voice.” The greatest artists were hungry artists, if you think about whether it’s Tupac and Big, or go back further, Run DMC or Raekwon or Afrika Bambaataa, or whoever. They was starving, not only for attention, but: “Yo, I have a talent to put on display, I have a message. This is my style.” Hip-hop is about your style and your energy as a person. So me doing this for so long, and doing it successfully, you have to find hunger, you have to have a reason. Driven… I have pockets of, “Well I don’t even like rhymes,” because I don’t have shit to say. I done fuckin’ made it to the suburbs. That nigga from Elder Creek? Where I’m living at? Damn! I’m so realistic with my music, I don’t have anything to cry about or complain about, so it’s hard for me to find pockets of hunger. But let an MC think he’s better than me. Those are my driving forces now. It’s different driving forces as a real MC, because I’m not going to write no fabricated shit. I’m not going to rap about binges and mansions and luxuries, this, that and the other. Now I’ve got to find pockets of, “Oh, I feel hungry,” or “Oh, I heard a Chuuwee song, damn that little mothafucka tight! I gotta do that.” But it’s healthy competition, not like I’m hating on him, but that inspires me now.

What were you thinking about when you wrote [“Merlot Murder”]? I felt like there was some anger in that song.
Anger toward hip-hop, right?

Mhmm.
You know what? As much as I felt like I gave to hip-hop, and I tried to stay true to it, I felt like it kind of stabbed me in the back in ways. I feel like it didn’t afford me opportunities that it should have. I don’t know if it was being from Sacramento, I don’t know what it was, but I feel like honestly, as true as I stay to this sport, look at what hip-hop is right now. You got a lot of pop bullshit out, you know, it’s just so watered down.

What’s the ultimate example of watered-down hip hop to you?
When you want a better life for your family and where you come from, I don’t blame people for doing what they do to make money. I guess I’m just so personal with hip-hop that I hate that it comes at the expense of hip-hop. So, watered down to me would be–and it’s a thin line when I say this and it’s a slippery slope–anything that goes commercial to the point that you know what you’re broadcasting is not from the heart. The problem with saying names is you don’t know what their family situation was, and I always am careful about that… See it’s a lot of driving forces as to why we do what we do in this game. The problem is, look what hip-hop has become because of the money and because of the bling-bling era. I guess I would lay the blame there, the bling-bling era of hip-hop fucked it all up. Anytime you give people with nothing a vision of people that didn’t have nothing and now they got something, anytime you broadcast that too much, it becomes, now the people with nothing are rapping about shit they don’t have because they want to look like that. And it just misconstrued every damn thing.

Why do you think you weren’t [rapping about personal stuff] before?
I just wasn’t. I was just on the MC shit, let’s focus on the art and this and that. We’re not going to talk about the street. I didn’t want my gimmick to be street shit or gangsta shit, I don’t claim to be a gangsta in the first place… I’m not doing it for any specific reason. I guess at this point I just feel like I should get it off my chest.

Doey Rock will celebrate the release of Shade Proof (out March 13) on March 16, 2012 at Harlow’s. You can listen and download the the album at Audiomack.com/artist/doey-rock. The show starts at 10 p.m. and will cost $10. To order tickets in advance, go to Harlows.com.

I came across a hot new Mean Doe Green (aka Doey Rock) track on the Fly High crew’s website (www.weareflyhigh.com) the other day called “Blue Ribbon Rap” and I strongly suggest you go download it for free. The beat was done by Hippie Sabotage, a production team consisting of So Crates and Sour Beats, and Raekwon, Planet Asia and Nicatyne were invited by Mean Doe to spit (and sing the hook) over it. Fader.com premiered the track on their website; it’s nice to see some local cats get big nods.

Mean Doe Green featuring Raekwon & Planet Asia – Blue Ribbon Rap by Hypetrak

DLRN keeps their latest release, and those to come, close to the vest

It’s coming back around. Young artists are expecting more from their culture. Take the art of Kehinde Wiley, for example: He paints the stereotypical street hustler in gentlemanly poses against backdrops of elegant tapestries, juxtaposing the ghetto with the affluent. Sacramento’s DLRN is analogous to Wiley’s vision of celebrating the complexity of hip-hop culture.

Hip-hop has reached a reputable age, and decades deep it has its own version of royalty. As of late though, it has become less of a culture, less of an art form and more of an economic commodity. Sean La Marr, under the nom de plume 5th Ave, sees a potential for change without leaving the sleepy city of Sacramento. La Marr’s video for the song “Dear Langston” is a testament to his hometown pride, as it used Wiley’s art as inspiration–showcasing the city’s talented inhabitants mimicking the regal poses of the elite–the same poses present in Wiley’s portraits.

It’s clear La Marr loves Sacramento hip-hop with the sincerest of hearts. Our interview was intended to discuss the new record his group, DLRN, is dropping this week. Yet, it was during our post-interview hangout session that he revealed his passion for the local scene.

Last year DLRN dropped its No More Heroes record with the intention of introducing new heroes to the hip-hop canon and creating an alternate narrative not traditionally found within the genre. “From an MC standpoint, I was very disillusioned with it,” 5th Ave said. “I came to the realization that a lot of the faces of hip-hop these days I do not relate to. I don’t see them as role models or the influential voices that they once were.”

DLRN, formerly known as Delorean, consists of MC 5th Ave, born Sean La Marr, and producer Jon Reyes. DLRN is retro-fashioned and reactionary, operating in a space that is not quite conscious rap and not quite club rap either. “We’re a product of different time periods and different people, that’s part of how we came up with the name Delorean,” Reyes said.

Unfortunately, a Spanish trance-pop had already claimed the Delorean moniker.

“Our tastes are more eclectic than most acts you’ll hear,” La Marr said, which means they were aware of a possible conflict in their future if they kept the name. By dropping the vowels to DLRN, the group hoped to dodge any cease and desist suits or mistaken-identity tour dates.

“It’s funny because we knew about them when we decided to go with the name,” La Marr said. “We just decided we better blow up before they do. But, then they were on ABC, they had a national tour and became Pitchfork darlings.”

La Marr continued with an anecdote, “We almost didn’t get booked at a show in Seattle because they played at the same venue two weeks prior. We’ll have stuff posted on our Facebook page about events that they’re doing and vice versa.”

Reyes added, “We can’t really hate it, because they’re a really talented band.”

The duo is excited about the switch, citing MGMT and MSTRKRFT as other successful bands that dropped the vowels. Sacramento is now tallied at two non-vowel band names (the other being CHLLNGR) with potential to join the celebrated ranks.

The topic evolved into a discussion over the ethereal trends in cycle of kindred band name themes–such as bands named “wolf-something” or rappers named Lil’. Apparently, there was a birth explosion of Deloreans around the early Naughties. “We thought about adding a word to make it Delorean Brown,” La Marr said. Reyes interjected, “A good reference to one of the greatest wrestlers of the modern era, D’Lo Brown. “ La Marr continued, “But, it turns out there was a Delorean Brown already in Sacramento. Here I think we’re being clever.”

With a new name, DLRN sought out to craft its followup to No More Heroes. The Bridge was recorded at Pinnacle College in Rancho Cordova, which La Marr described as a “sterile” environment in comparison to Omina Labs, where No More Heroes was recorded. It took time, but DLRN enlisted the help of its student body to help them settle into the new digs. “It’s good working with people that you’re friends with outside of the music,” Reyes said. “It makes for very chill sessions.”

Reyes described the recording process for The Bridge, out July 20, 2010 as a free download, as a humbling and surreal experience. The students that volunteered were mostly fans of DLRN prior to the sessions. “Those are the people you’re making it for and they are sitting right next to you,” he said.

Accessing the privilege to hear the new record has been kept to limited company–possibly on a “nothing leaves the studio” policy. The reasoning is DLRN has a purpose with its messages. It’s encoded in the video for “Dear Langston” and on The Bridge. The two releases reference one another, and provide insight into the already planned third album. When I asked the name of the next record, I was met with stoicism and a round-about answer. “There is a hint in the last song,” La Marr said. “I hate to not tell it to you, but when you hear the next DLRN project it will make sense.”

I did not hear the hint in my exclusive The Bridge listening session. But I did hear a reason alongside the Cloud City record to be excited about local hip-hop in July. The Bridge’s first video features Prometheus Brown of Blue Scholars, while the record has further appearances by Hopie Spitshard, Illecism and Chuuwee. That’s all I am allowed to disclose.

DLRN has major plans to kick off August by celebrating the release of The Bridge in what La Marr hopes will be the biggest hip-hop event of the summer. After hearing the words “tequila tasting,” “kegs of free Miller High Life,” “free sushi” and “the Miller High Life girls,” I am not opposed to declaring it the event of the summer either. “I’ve been to a lot of hip-hop shows and I’d hate for this to be just another hip-hop show,” he said. The release party is Aug. 6, 2010 at Beatnik Studios.

In my brief tenure with Submerge, I’ve met a lot of local rappers, most of which have this ambition, rooted in frustration, to overcome their surroundings. It is a career plan that includes reaching or leaving for the Bay Area and Los Angeles markets. La Marr never once spoke with a belittling tone toward his hometown. Instead, we sat for an extra half-hour talking about our favorite Sacramento rappers, putting me on to a great local joint by Blee featuring Doey Rock. “You know what, come to the show and I’ll have a mixtape for you of all my favorite Sacramento shit,” La Marr said. I left thinking, it’s that kind of dedication to the scene that makes someone the founder of a collective such as the Neighborhood Watch. He’s got our best interests at heart.

Go to Beatnik Studios on Aug. 6 for DLRN’s The Bridge record release party. Free Tequila tasting and beer for those 21-and-over will be available. There will also be VIP wrist band bottle service. Come dressed as Alice in Wonderland and get in free. Prize awarded for best costume.