Durham, NC based activist, Lamont Lilly is a columnist for the African American Voice and contributing editor with the Triangle Free Press. Follow him on Twitter @LamontLilly.
It was two weeks ago and six months late that I finally purchased Phonte Coleman’s solo debut, “Charity Starts At Home,” one of three specialty releases marking North Carolina’s first official Hip Hop Day, September 27th 2011.
In lieu of such an admission, there’s no question that Duke University’s Hip Hop Studies curriculum will probably be studying this young man 10 years from now, “Mark Anthony Nealites” wisely declaring how great he was. What’s funny is that those of us who know him often say, “Oh that’s just Phonte.” How sad that right here at home we fail to hail our homegrown prominence.
Ironically, Phonte Coleman’s, “Charity Starts At Home” does just that. For his long anticipated solo debut, Coleman not only beckons Hip Hop field generals, Pharoahe Monch and Big K.R.I.T., there’s Raleigh-Durham sound assassins, Khrysis and 9th Wonder, local legends Median and Carlitta Durand, along with cameos from NCCU affiliates, E. Jones and “Trumpeter” Al Strong—a lifeline of local influence that well spans the globe.
Music and the Message
Encapsulated deep within Coleman’s soul on ice, is a soundtrack to life spiraled in black vernacular ego, faint strands of the academy and a subtle beam of sensuality quite comforting— particularly from an emcee who historically has garnered a thunderous following via left hook wit and “street-man” grit. Discreetly birthed in some earthly heaven between Charles Mingus and Chuck D., Coleman’s “Charity Starts At Home” is an off-brand of Hip Hop Funk disguised as Bebop, rightly dividing the loyalty of Art vs. the assimilation process needed to break minstrel mainstream. There are no Fruity Pebbles here, only life labor fused with the strains and pains of love melodies made forever.
Coleman’s platform of topics ranges from fatherhood to poverty, lost love, divorce and the Prison Industrial Complex—lightly sprinkled with sung similes of Nat Turner, Joe Clark and Martin Luther King. It’s a well-chiseled collection of intellectual perspectives, which also include an array of Bull City shout outs from Alston to Angier Ave, encompassing an intense authenticity that simply can’t be coached.
Through Coleman’s mere existence, Hip Hop’s Golden Era strikes back, creative longevity wins again, the dangers of limelight pursuit defeated. Yes, of course Coleman discusses women; he’s a man. But in this particular Hip Hop capsule, there are no patriarchal “Tip Drills” degrading women with credit cards. Everything a good woman gives is coated in thanks here, a gentleman’s appreciation and high praise. Refreshing yet mature, the album’s voice is almost like you’re listening to that older-but-still-cool uncle of yours, as Phonte Coleman is the first emcee in a long time to critically discourage infidelity—to uplift family, and do so with an adequate degree of machismo—valiantly challenging a status quo of “big pimpin,” “ballin” and “shot callin.” While some veteran emcees swing immediately for the fences (sellouts to Hip Hop hormones), craft prophets as Phonte nobly lay blue-collar singles Cal Ripken style, opting instead to endure every mile themselves, no cheating—only the esoteric embodiment of pure organics: Hip Hop, Soul, Jazzmatazz.
Parts of “Charity Starts At Home” are rugged, complicated and unapologetic. Yet, you can’t forget its velvet-like substance that rubs the spirit quite nicely when you’re sitting in the dark, or for that matter, on your way to the park with your seven year old god-daughter who whispers, “Pops, what’s Hip Hop?” While some critics claim he’s all ego, I’ve got good enough sense to know that Coleman isn’t simply a lyrical flair of hot air—he’s lyrical in layers, thought-provoking, insightful, fiercely gifted with a rare ability: brain power. Tracks like “Eternally,” “The Life of Kings” and “We Go Off,” truly go in on the cerebral tip. Even the production is studious. As pure compliment to verbal tone, beats are crisp, vocals cohesive, chords and melodies tightly interwoven. BEATS and RANTS suggested that [Phonte’s “The< Good Life” is the antithesis of the materialistic boasting by Jay-Z and Kanye West].
I’ll forewarn you, before unwrapping the plastic lining from this case, go back to your place with all the worries you can muster in hand—your three year-old, the light bill, final exams and that cantankerous boss of yours. Just press play and let Phonte’s poetic soul harmonies bear those burdens right off your back. Listen and you just might learn something. Listen and you just might be inspired to see yourself maximized through that mirror you’ve been hiding from.
It’s been over a decade for Phonte now—a decade of foundation that undeniably speaks for itself. In 1999 it was Little Brother’s, “The Listening.” It’s now 2012 and this brother’s whistling Dixie rhymes, oh so beautiful. Such relevant consistency and artistic service deserve respect. Such sheer will and creative innovation have been nothing short of moving. True, Coleman’s no Godfather, but by now he’s certainly a “made man.” Like him or not, you just can’t fuck with him. He’s Phonte Coleman. He belongs to Hip Hop…and he’s ours.
Durham based activist, Lamont Lilly is a columnist for the African American Voice and contributing editor with the Triangle Free Press. Follow him on Twitter @LamontLilly.