Bridging the Gaps
The Black Eyed Peas Drop Science on the Power of Culture and Music

Interview By Silja J.A. Talvi

ne of the freshest and most innovative additions to hip-hop in recent years has arrived in the form of a phenomenal trio of MCs and dancers known as the Black Eyed Peas. Trans-cultural, politically conscious, and bursting at the seams with an unmatched level of vibrant, creative energy, the Los Angeles-based Black Eyed Peas are a breath of fresh air out of the city's smoggy, gritty, urban sprawl.

Backed by a posse of some of the most talented musicians to be found in the hip-hop genre, the Peas have already released two, critically-acclaimed albums on Interscope: Behind the Front (1998) and last
year's Bridging the Gap.

Like the city they call home, the group represents the kind of ethnic mix that has made California what it is today: a swirling, if too often disadvantaged, mix of colors and cultures. The trio of MCs, Will.I.Am, Apl.de.Ap, and Taboo, are African American, African American/Filipino, and Native American/Mexican, respectively. Their love for each other's heritages—and for the diversity that their audiences bring to the live show experience—is both profoundly recognizable and deeply moving.

Just five days after 9.11.01, the Peas crowded into the front section of their tour bus with LiP to drop science about the power of music in a time of crisis, the importance of valuing culture, and what it would mean to let women assume a more prominent role in taking care of humanity.

LiP: Talk to me about what "Bridging the Gap" means to you?

Will: We thought along the lines of music and what hip-hop music has done culturally. It's crossed cultures, boundaries, musical genres... With the exception of rock and jazz, it's the most diverse music as far as what it accomplishes and has achieved as far as exposure.

Can you tell me a bit about your childhoods in terms of the kind of cultural influences you were exposed to?

Will: In my own neighborhood, we were one of the only Black families around in our area (East Los Angeles). Majority Latinos, a lot of Mexicans, some people from El Salvador and Nicaragua and Tijuañeros. That culture
influenced me as a person. It's broadened my taste of things that I appreciate, [music] that I can stand listening to for more than a minute. Culturally, the way Latinos raise their families, that's influenced my family, from my mom being born and raised there to me being born and raised there. It was just like a little village in these projects where we lived.

Apl: That's how it was for me in the Philippines, in a different part of the world. My culture is more jungle-y. When I got to the projects Will was living in, I was like, "Damn, you guys got nice houses, you got toilets ..." 'Cause in the Philippines, you don't even have toilets. It's a different type of a toilet, like an outhouse. And we had to pump water out of the ground.

Taboo: Growing up in East Los Angeles, I learned about [being comfortable] without having money. I learned that happiness was our form of financial stability. If we didn't have money for things like material items, we found happiness through our friends and the community environment, and knowing that you could go outside and play and you didn't need a basketball or the hottest Tonka truck. You had your friends, and it was a village of positive energy .... no matter what race you were, you were a part of that neighborhood, and you were accepted.

What do you think about the healing or the therapeutic power of music, particularly at a time like this? You mentioned on your web site that you wanted people to come to your shows in the aftermath of the 9.11.01 attacks for some "therapeutical" time.

Will: I personally was scared. I didn't want to leave [L.A.]. My grandma, she's a very spiritual person and has healing hands, and she was like, "Boy, ain't nothing going to happen. The worst has already happened. When God calls on you to work for him you can't stay at home. You gotta go out and put your part in it, and your part is to go and brighten up people's spirits and go out and perform. So at that point we called our tour manager to call up the record company to have them say on the web site that it's a "therapeutic" thing.

And performing is therapy for us; that's what it is. Performing, being able to travel and do what you love and to touch people, it kind of—your fears and worries are secondary, if that. They're third or fourth on the list once you put all these good things into place.
You got to count your blessings, before you count your woes and problems.

The ethnic mix at your shows is always so remarkable: Filipinos and Latinos and African Americans and Asian Americans all dancing together. Do you notice that? How does it make you feel?

Will: I personally don't notice it, because my whole life growing up has been like "Skittles." Living with Latinos, going to school with white cats up in the Palisades, going to gospel church [with African Americans] and
hanging out with Filipino homies, so I don't notice it.

Apl: It's like a reflection of all the people into hip-hop. They're just like us, Mexican, Black, Filipino, Japanese, so it's automatic and unconditional.

Taboo: It's good to be able to go all over the world from Australia to Japan to Germany and have these b-boys, graffiti artists, DJs, MCs, to share the same energy that's shared here in the States. It shows you how big and how broad hip hop is. It's not just an urban thing, a Black thing, a Puerto Rican thing, it's now a universal thing.

Are you optimistic for the future of hip-hop?

Will: I'm optimistic for hip-hop music, not for hip-hop genres, like commercial versus underground. Because underground cats want to be commercial, and commercial cats want to get respect from underground cats. Those genres are what makes hip-hop weak...

You got people nowadays who want to separate stuff and say, yeah, I liked you when nobody knew you. That's cool to do, but that's like telling your daughter, "I loved you when nobody liked you in high school" ... I'm more optimistic on people just getting into hip-hop music, learning instruments, getting into music theory—hip-hop musicians, not just lyricists or MCs.

What neighborhoods are you living in now in LA?

Will: I still live in the same neighborhood I grew up in. I live in the projects [in East L.A.].

For real?

Will: Seriously.

But you could afford to move out, so I'm surprised.

Will: Now, yes. But there's always the guy in the neighborhood that can afford to move out, and five years later, the motherfucker's back. You know what I mean? So, I have a studio —all my clothes are still at my mom's—I pay rent in my studio but I'm saving up enough money to be able to move my mom, my aunt and my grandma—when I can, we'll just be chillin.'

Apl: I still live around there, same spot. Nothin' changed but I just don't live in a roach motel anymore. (laughter)

Will: It was a cool little vibe spot, but it was infested with roaches. And the neighbor stole his fridge. (laughter)

Apl: The neighbor from across the street took everything from my apartment and designed it exactly the same way in his apartment.

Oh, man. That's fucked up. (more laughter)

Will: Yeah, a lot of cats are like, "You motherfuckers must be ballin' and [driving in] bomb-ass beemers," but the music community ain't like that. What you see in the videos ain't real with their rented watches, rented chains, spending their advances on stupid things ... pissin' [their money] away.

Taboo: I was one of those guys that moved out and moved back in. I have a 7-year-old son, and I wanted him to grow up in the same environment [as I did]. I'm always on tour, and there's really no one to watch him besides my mother, so I chose to move back with my parents because I was able to help them financially and provide my son with a home that is stable enough to have that family environment. I'm going to buy a house this year to be able to help them and myself out. I'm just waiting for the right time, it's
about me and Josh, my son, and it helps me become more responsible and understand budgeting money.

If I didn't have a son, I'd probably be blowing the shit ... being a father taught me a lot about how to situate your earnings and understand that this is only temporary. A fucking advance, $10,000 ain't shit. People spending that on cars and watches and they can't even afford that shit. And then they're left with nothing.

These artists need to know, yo, it's about longevity and how to pay for your way and your family or whatever you're trying to structure.

What are your hopes and dreams for this country's future? And what, Taboo, do you want to see for your son in the next 10, 20 years?

Will: This is more of what I want to see for the world: I don't want rappers or athletes or models—I ain't playa hating them, but this is just how I feel—to make more money than professors and doctors. I don't want religion or government to control the people ... there should be knowledge, education instead of entertainment first. I don't want people to [only] come together in times of crisis. If everybody came together just to come together at all times, there would be
no need to just to come together in the time of crisis.

Taboo: I'd like to see better cultural education for my son ... I'm really getting into this whole cultural thing and trying to understand, like my man Apl is Filipino and he likes cooking Filipino food, and we [interact], understanding food and culture and dress. I need that. The world needs culture. The whole thing about people hating on Muslims, people hating on Middle Eastern people ... if you don't understand culture, then you don't understand people. If you don't know what's going on in the world, you're short-[sighted] ... That's what I want the world to do, is celebrate culture.

Apl: There should be equal treatment for everybody. That would stop certain jealousies from other countries. People that hate America ... I think if America really helped other countries out and didn't try to take everything, it would be cool. Equal treatment is what I hope for.

Will: Also, if women could nurture humanity in the way that they nurture their children, we as people would be in a totally different place spiritually and mentally. A lot of people are like, "Why would you want a woman to be in charge? They have periods." And I say, "Would you have someone that only is affected one week out of a month, or a man where their testosterone is going all the time...?"

Grumpiness is nothing compared to testosterone.

Reproduction of material from any LiP pages without written permission is strictly prohibited | Copyright 2002 LiPmagazine.org | info@lipmagazine.org

09.23.01