Souls of Mischief

"Yo, what's up, this is Tajai of /the mighty Souls of Mischief crew. I'm chillin' with my/ man Phesto, my man A-Plus, and my man Op, you know he's dope./ But right now yo, we/ just maxin' in the studio. We handlin' from East Oakland, California, and um,/ sometimes it gets a little hectic out there. But right/ now, yo, we gonna up you on how we just chill."

I was in the tenth grade when Souls of Mischiefs debut album From `93 Til Infinity dropped with these words: At the time I had a huge crush on cashew-colored, gravely-voiced Tajai Massey, who introduced their first single. This Winter the group swas on tour in DC and I got to sit down with them after one of their shows. As it turns out In 2001, Tajai is still chilling. And, now he's boycotting retail stores.

But in this age of bobos and eco-tourism, Tajai wants to make sure he picks up one last thing: a pair of Campers. "I need those," he emphasizes of the specialty European walking shoes. As the manager of and most vocal member in the Bay Area-based rap group, Tajai is exhibiting that he is still part "sheep" as he would say, even though he is trying hard not to be.

"Im just trying not to be in the matrix you know. 80% of our economy is consumer based so basically we spend all of our money, especially black folks. So I'm trying to save a bit of my money and not be feeling like I gotta have that. I gotta need this. You don't need none of that. All you need is groceries," he says. Oh yeah, and $125 kicks.

In high school, Tajai, along with some friends--Opio, Phesto Dee, and A-Plus (government names withheld)--started a group called Souls of Mischief. In the basements and dens of their respective East Oakland, California, homes, they spent hours penning the lyrics that would eventually become their ground-breaking debut LP, `93 Til Infinity.

When they debuted in 1993 with the single "`93 Til Infinity," along with the Pharcyde and Freestyle Fellowship, they helped usher in a new sound for West Coast rap. A sound that focused on the art of emceeing, with lyrics that were irreverent and sometimes "conscious," with content that was contrary to the gun-toting, gang-banging, pimping-is-easy, epics of their regional predecessors Too-$hort, Ice T, and N.W.A. However, though they admit that they offered a different viewpoint in West Coast rap, they are quick to dismiss any notion that they were somehow "alternative."

	"We black men, so of course it's gonna be political."

Opio, a tall, slender guy with a cute, baby `fro says, "People try to pigeonhole certain styles of rap. People used to say, "Ya'll sound like you from New York," when we was using Oakland slang, and talking about our own experiences. But the fact that we was lyrical, people try to put us on some New York [tip]. When I was coming up, I saw Ice Cube as lyrical. I'm not about shooting people, but I could peep his wordplay, and I admired him. I didn't see no difference between Cube and Rakim. I didn't differentiate between gangsta rap. I saw them as emcees.

The influence of Cube and Rakim are evident in the styles of the Souls. On their latest effort, the four emcees flip flows quicker than Lil Kim changes hair and eye color, providing listeners with an opportunity to hear them wax philosophical on topics varying from revolution to partying. They didn't always have this freedom, however.

"You get your whole life to make your first record," Tajai says, "So you take your time and then the second album you're living as a rapper and you have to put [an album] out. Everybody knows who you are and you don't live a normal life. The transition was hard for us between the first and second album."

Hard for Souls of Mischief meant that they faced stuff like lackluster sales, royalty disputes, and creative differences with their label, Jive. "We didn't wanna do certain things we didn't want to do. They [Jive] wanted us to be a teen group--do some pop type stuff," says Tajai. Two weeks after the release of their second album, No Man's Land, in 1995, they were dropped from the label and disappeared.