For S.F. rappers, another dream deferred

Since the 1980s, the Bay Area has been a breeding ground for a thriving underground rap music scene. But while Oakland, Vallejo and Richmond have produced nationally known rappers like Too $hort, E-40 and Master P, San Francisco's track record has been marred by tragedy, violence and legal problems.

Known as Sucka Free City in the rap world, San Francisco has no shortage of rappers or independent labels. However, its artists' close ties to the inner city -- and, by extension, the tribulations of the ghetto -- may be one reason it has produced a scant number of big-name acts.

"It's so much pressure on somebody out here to blow up on a national scale," says filmmaker Kevin Epps, director of "Rap Dreams" (2006), a documentary about rappers trying to break into the industry. "The city has had a sense of modest success in the bay, but when you think of national (success), it hasn't really had that."

It seems every time a San Francisco rapper is ready to break out of the regional niche, something bad happens.

"That's stagnated my career for so long," says Messy Marv. "It's like these majors, they're scared to deal with us, man. Right when we about to blow, something negative jumps off."

Raised on Eddy Street in the heart of the Fillmore district, Messy, as he's known to fans, is perhaps the best known rapper in San Francisco. He's considered by some to be the hottest rapper in the area, above even E-40, Mistah F.A.B. and Keak Da Sneak, and has spent the better part of a decade making a name for himself.

Long a part of the local indie scene, he has sold hundreds of thousands of units on solo and group efforts. "Explosive Mode," his 1998 collaboration with San Quinn, is recognized as a Bay Area classic, as is his 2004 solo album, "Disobayish." Though he's not generally considered a hyphy rapper, he scored a commercial radio hit with 2005's "Get On My Hype." Last year alone, he put out eight albums by his own estimation, and, in addition to a partnership with SMC Recordings (a big backer of local rappers that sold 300,000 units and reported sales of $3 million in 2006), he's set up his own label, Scalen, as a gateway for emerging talent.

Messy has high hopes for his most recent project, the two-volume "Fillmoe Nation" compilation. Intended to foster peace on the streets and create opportunities for young people in two Western Addition neighborhoods embroiled in a violent turf war ("Uptown" and "Downtown"), the compilation features up-and-coming artists from each 'hood. In addition, a portion of proceeds from record sales will be donated to two cash-strapped community centers -- Uptown's Hamilton and Downtown's Ella Hill Hutch -- for youth development programs.

The compilation hit stores late last month, but Messy hasn't been able to be as hands-on with the project as he would have liked. Several weeks before its release, Messy was again arrested with an unlicensed automatic weapon in the trunk of his car. Evidently, there are consequences to being "draped up and chipped out," to paraphrase the title of one of the rapper's albums.

Speaking by phone from a jail -- he declines to disclose his location, for safety reasons -- Messy Marv admits he was driving around with a weapon in his trunk, but says it was for his "protection," not because he was actively gang-banging or intended to retaliate against someone.

"Dealing with the society that we are living in today, man, it's like, you'd rather be caught with than without," he says. "You can see the crime rate in San Francisco, you can see the crime rate in Oakland. Actually, all across the Bay Area, man." In his case, "It was one of those situations where I drive around in my $70,000 car, and I'm out here with the people, man. I'm not out here using excessive force with a firearm, jumping out, doing crazy s -- ."

The way Messy sees it, he's "one of the good ones" who happens to also be "a product of his society." Growing up in the inner city, "when you're successful -- whether you're a rapper or you work a good nine-to-five -- and you have things, you become a target," he says. Even though he has friends in both Uptown and Downtown, he could easily become a turf war casualty, he says, for the simple fact that he's from Eddy Street's notorious Marcus Garvey housing projects.

What's going on in the Western Addition is "real serious," he says. "People that grew up together are divided in two now. Basically, man, it's like nothing for these kids to do" but crime. "They base your whole future around your rap sheet. Most of these kids out here, man, (are) poverty-stricken ... They're doing dirt, then they're going to jail. When they finally do wanna get a job or fill out an application, you know, they get turned down. I don't have the answers to that."

Exactly who does is a good question. Epps -- whose first film, "Straight Outta Hunters Point," documented a turf war between two rival gangs -- says ghetto violence is "tied to economics, like any other thing." Just as in Hunters Point, what's happening in the Western Addition is "a situation where hopelessness sets in ... young dudes are living fast, dying hard."

Messy Marv may not be able to change that reality by himself, but he feels he's done his part by spearheading "Fillmoe Nation" and "showing the community there is a window of opportunity for them, as far as I'm concerned. I took it upon myself to try to turn a negative situation into something positive, now that I have position in this music industry."

Epps says rap represents "a way out for n -- that don't want to sell drugs and pull pistols." He says that Messy's considered "one of the realest in the game," whose influence "can reach a lot of cats that's hard to reach."

But instead of promoting his album, Messy will spend the next nine months behind bars. (At first, says SMC's Will Bronson, the rapper was facing 10 years; the relatively short sentence, he claims, is proof the judicial system believes "he's not a career criminal.")

According to Bronson, Messy's work ethic is such that he doesn't have time for extracurricular activities. "Every time I call him, he's in the studio," Bronson says, adding that the rapper has put out four albums this year and has at least three more scheduled for 2007.

Even so, the company he keeps has gotten Messy into trouble on at least one previous occasion; in 2000, he was riding in a car in Kansas City with local rapper Fat Tone, Sacramento's C-Bo and Vallejo's Mac Dre when an unknown vehicle opened fire, wounding Fat Tone. (Fat Tone was later implicated in the 2004 murder of Mac Dre, and was himself slain in 2005 in what police have called a retaliation killing.)

As Epps explains, street credibility means everything in the rap game. With gangster rap especially, listeners want to know, "is this n -- real, where's he coming from?" When your entire persona is based on being in the streets, he says, "you can't just cut the cord" and remove yourself from the community altogether.

For his part, Messy's well aware that his run-ins with the law haven't helped his chances of scoring a major-label contract. However, he says, "You have to understand that we're human beings, man, and you can't blame a person for being a product of their society." He's thankful to SMC and its distributor, Fontana/Universal, "for giving us an outlet to even stay out here and provide a way to feed our families."

But frustration is evident in his voice as he talks about the state of San Francisco's rap scene. "It's like, damn, when is somebody gonna give us a chance to reach that plateau so we can really start reaching out to the people in the community and start turning this s -- into something positive?"

Messy Marv's recent arrest is only the latest in a series of pitfalls, dating back over a decade, that have plagued the San Francisco rap scene and limited its progress.

1994: After a shooting during a rap showcase at the 1994 Gavin Convention -- a now-defunct annual event that once brought music industry bigwigs to the city -- the convention relocates to Atlanta, effectively severing the region's access to major-label executives and their potentially lucrative record deals.

1995: Rappin' 4-Tay -- who appeared on platinum records by Too and Tupac Shakur and scored a major national hit with 1994's "Player's Club" -- is arrested on domestic violence charges. His career since has been continually derailed by stints in prison.

1996: On New Year's Day, Hunters Point rapper Mr. Cee of RBL Posse is slain in a still-unsolved drive-by shooting. The group -- which sold more than 100,000 units of their 1991 single "Don't Give Me No Bammer Weed" and moved 200,000 units of 1994's "Ruthless by Law" -- never recovered. Despite signing a deal with Atlantic/Big Beat, 1997's "An Eye For an Eye" was a commercial and critical flop, while 2001's "Hostile Takeover" barely made a ripple in the music industry.

2001: Cougnut of Bayview's I.M.P., which at one time was compared to N.W.A., dies in a car crash. His loss sends a chilling ripple through the city's rap scene, and the group disbands.

2001: RBL affiliate Hitman, whose 1995 album "Solo Creep" reportedly sold more than 100,000 units, is killed in an apparent gang-related slaying in Hunters Point.

2002: Big Block Records owner Douglas "Boobie" Stepney, the alleged leader of the Big Block gang and a former associate of RBL Posse, is arrested as a result of a joint task force operation involving the FBI and the San Francisco Police Department investigating gang-related murders in Hunters Point.

2005: Messy Marv is arrested on weapons possession charges after being pulled over by police on his way to a photo shoot for XXL magazine (which could have resulted in national exposure and/or a major label deal).

-- Eric K. Arnold

http://sfgate.com/

This article appeared on page E - 1 of the San Francisco Chronicle