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IT COMES AS NO SHOCK, then, that not
a single openly gay hip-hop artist has ever gathered a significant national
following. But Caushun, a 23-year old former celebrity hairstylist from
Brooklyn, N.Y., hopes to change that. With his humor, charisma and a crucial
boost from his industry-insider pals—songwriter-producer Ivan Matias among
them—Caushun is gunning to become hip-hop’s first gay mainstream star.
He’s just halfway through recording his first album, “Proceed With Caushun,”
but his unusual perspective has drawn the attention of several major labels
While Caushun may be the
first openly gay rapper to make a major media splash—he’s already been on
MTV and in Vibe magazine—he’s far from the first gay rapper. Gay acts such
as Rainbow Flava’ and Morplay have existed on the fringe of hip-hop for years,
and rumors frequently circulate in hip-hop circles about the “secret” sexual
orientation of some of the industry’s most visible stars. In addition, the
lack of gay representation among big name hip-hop performers says nothing about
rap fans: In major cities, gay hip-hop clubs thrive, attracting men who describe
themselves as “homo thugs.” Such audiences could potentially form a
pre-established fan base for Caushun.
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NEWSWEEKS’s Jane Spencer sat down
with Caushun in Brooklyn to talk about his new album, his ambitions and doing
Kimora Lee’s hair.
NEWSWEEK: How did you get started?
Caushun: I’ve been rhyming for
years—it started with friends. I didn’t start taking it seriously until I
called into a radio station to rhyme [on an open-mic call-in show], and they
shunned me away. They heard my voice, and they was like, “Oh, wait a minute,
are you sweet?” They was like, “Oh, cupcake” this and “cupcake” that.
It wasn’t anything really derogatory, but they still wouldn’t let me rhyme.
Had I sounded more thuggish they would’ve let me. After that, I was like,
“You know what? You all are gonna hear me. I have a lot to say and you’re
gonna hear me.”
I’ve heard you have a lot of industry
connections from your work as a hairstylist. Has that helped you?
I was working at The Plaza Hotel salon. I
did plenty of celebrity clients from Sarah Michelle Gellar to Leanne Rimes to
Jennifer Lopez. Through doing the hair, I linked up with Kimora Lee [Simmons,
former model, TV host and wife of rap mogul Russell Simmons], and I became one
of her personal hairstylists. During this whole time, I was like, “Honey,
I’m rhyming, and this is what’s happening,” and I always got her support.
When Russell would come home, she’d be like, “Russell, listen to this honey,
this boy can rhyme.” So I told him I had this one record called “Gay Rappers
D-Lite.” A lot of people were like, “Oh, that’s going to be
controversial.” But Russell was like, “All you gotta do is say this is only
entertainment at the front of your album. It’s all about peace, and you should
be fine.” After Russell told me that, I was like, “All right, I don’t care
what nobody says. The grandfather of hip-hop told me that my s—t is the
bomb.”
Do you think homophobia and misogyny are
a major part of the hip-hop world—or is it just overpublicized?
There are a lot of artists that you can
call “studio thugs.” They’re made up to appear that they’re so against
women, so against homosexuals. But it’s pretty much a persona that’s
created. You can sit down and have a conversation with that same artist that
performed 20 minutes before and realize that they’re not really homophobic at
all. But being homophobic sells. Being that masculine “rah, rah” figure-that
sells.
On the flip side of that, is presenting
yourself as the “The Gay Rapper”—a term you put on your publicity
materials—a marketing strategy?
As soon as you hear my voice you’re going
to definitively know that I am gay and I’m rapping—so I would’ve been
called “the gay rapper” anyway. I feel like a lot of artists lose their
credibility when they don’t come out honestly with the way they are. This is
the era of realism. Every hip-hop artists is like, “Oh, keep it real, keep it
real.” And what I’m doing is true. I’m definitely keeping it real because
I’m not straight, so I can’t keep it real by trying to act straight and play
straight.
There have been other gay hip-hop performers—they
just haven’t gathered a national following. Do you think you’ll be
different?
I think that it’s all on timing. Twenty
years ago was not the time, 10 years ago was not the time. I think now
hip-hoppers are a little bit more open-minded, they’re ready for something
new, from the beats to the music to this. And homo thugs support hip-hoppers and
buy their albums and help them get their platinum stats, so I feel like there
should be a face put to this whole homo thing, instead of us being behind the
scenes of hip-hop, doing the hair, the makeup, the styling. Why can’t we be a
face in the forefront?
Have the gay people behind the scenes in
hip-hop—the publicists and stylists—influenced the industry?
We’re in there, honey. We’re directing
the show, the videos, we’re signing the artists to labels, we’re creating
the image for the heterosexual rappers—deciding if they look sexy in this and
that. Think about it. You have Pras, a hip-hop artist in a flamingo pink
two-piece Paul Smith suit with pink Christian Dior glasses. You think that was a
heterosexual’s idea? You know what I’m saying? And it actually makes him
more appealing. The women are like, “Wow, he got style.” The homosexuals are
like, “Honey, who put him up in that! He’s doing his thing!” So its like
we influence them, and they influence us. I just feel like there needs to be a
face, like my face, put to the front of the whole thing.
Tell me about some of the tracks on your
album.
“Ooh, Who Dat Be” is like an anthem, I
would say. It’s an introduction. You know that I’m gay by the record. I also
have the “Gay Rappers D-Lite.” This is basically talking about rappers in
the industry that homo thugs might actually lust for, just from our point of
view. A lot of people go, “Oh, that’s so graphic and it’s so this and
that.” A lot of people would be scared to comment on it, but it’s not so
serious, it’s just entertainment, and I’m just taking it for what it is.
How do you feel about rappers who bash
gays in their lyrics?
I don’t take it personal. Almost every
artist out there degrades someone to some extent. When they chant “faggot
faggot faggot”—it’s like if you have use faggot 17 times on one record.
That’s not creative, it’s boring. People are tired of hearing themselves
called a bitch or a fag.
What do you think about efforts to place
stricter ratings systems on albums with explicit lyrics?
If parents took more control over what
their kids listen to, instead of having the artists, the actual rap stars, raise
their kids, then there wouldn’t be as much of a problem. I know when I was
younger, there were certain things that I couldn’t listen to. You can’t
blame the artist for a parent’s jobs. Rap is humor and entertainment—adult
humor and entertainment, not children’s humor and entertainment.
Who do you hope your following will be?
I hope and pray that it’s going to be a
little bit of everyone. I’m pitching myself to the open-minded heterosexual
hip-hop community. I’m still marketing myself to women cause women, they
don’t care. They love you if they love you. And then there’s a large gay
community. I’m pitching myself to the BETs, the MTVs, which is mainstream pop
culture. I want everybody to get a piece of the pie.
What’s the homo thug scene like?
If you’re man and you’re influenced by
hip-hop and you’re intimate with another man, you’re a homo thug. Even if
you’re into this “realness” with the baggy jeans. Whether the homo thugs
want to identify themselves as gay is a different story. A lot have issues—you
know, self hatred and all that. Some of these men deal with full-on, 24/7 drag
queens, and they do not believe that they are gay. They still consider
themselves straight. Every homo thug has your hard side and then you have your
softer side, that you might be comfortable with behind closed doors. But in the
street, there are homo thugs that you might not even know are gay from looking
at them. We are like the millennial drag—homo thug drag is dressing up in the
baggy jeans, the gold chains, the platinum ice [jewelry].
Are there overlaps
between the experience of being gay and the experience of being black?
There’s definitely a similarity. What I want to do, the way I want to come
into this game is to take the word “fag” and empower, the way Lil’ Kim
took the word “bitch” and empowered it. It’s like, “Yes, I’m Queen
Bitch, honey, and it’s not a big deal.” A lot of people are scared of
“fag” or “homo” because they don’t have a face to it, and they don’t
see that there are so many homo thugs, so they’re scared of it. Even the
N-word—nigger—is so derogatory, but when black people use it amongst
themselves, it’s like not a big deal. So I kind of want take the word fag and
make it like, “Oh, child, what’s the big deal.”
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