Rapper is making new music from personal history

Tuesday November 7, 2006

Rapper is making new music from personal history

By JIM FARBER

Twenty-six years ago, the father of Cuban-American rapper Pitbull
commandeered three boats to bring more than 500 people from Castro's
island to Miami, as part of what became known as the Mariel boatlift.

The dictator, who normally made emigration impossible, either let the
disenchanted leave or found an excuse to expel Cuba's least-desirable
citizens, depending on your point of view. But the influx of nearly
125,000 people to our shores transformed Miami, and thus a key part of
America. "Without Mariel, there is no modern Miami," declares Pitbull,
born Armando Christian Perez.

The 25-year-old rapper just released an album he has dubbed El Mariel
for a nervy reason. "The Marielitos were on a quest for freedom from
Castro," he explains, "My music is also on a quest for freedom - from
categories."

To compare the plight of desperate immigrants to the aspirations of a
talented MC may strike some as a tacky stretch. But where would the
world of hip hop be without exaggeration and brio? Anyway, the story of
rap - like that of immigration and of America itself - all have in
common the goal of self-transformation and upward mobility by any means
necessary.

The connection becomes even clearer, and more appealing, once you hear
Pitbull's music. El Mariel features some of the most clever, dense and
rhythmic rhymes of the year, rolled over music that fuses three distinct
genres into something wholly its own.

Southern crunk, pulsating Afro-Cuban beats and jittery reggaeton all get
mixed up on the rapper's second CD. His first one, 2004's M.I.A.M.I.:
Money Is a Major Issue, leaned closer to crunk (with defining input from
leering genre pioneer Lil Jon). That disk went gold, giving the rapper
the biggest-selling debut by a bilingual hip-hop act since Cypress
Hill's first CD, in 1991.

For El Mariel, Pitbull has greatly upped his game, becoming more
serious, political and mature, without losing the lowdown sex songs that
made him a star. This time, Pit features a poem that compares the
victims of Hurricane Katrina to the Marielitos, slamming both Bush and
Castro in the process. In likening the two leaders, Pit says with a
laugh "at least Castro was a genius for all the wrong reasons. I don't
know if I can say the same about Bush."

Earlier this year, Pit was involved in two other politically charged
pieces. He took part in a recording of the national anthem in Spanish,
which the artists intended as an open-hearted statement of Latin
inclusion. Angry conservatives saw it instead as anti-Anglo.

Then, when news arrived of Castro's illness, Pit went straight into the
studio to cut a new song, Se Acabo (It's Over). The cut earned major
play all over Miami and became a rallying cry for Cuban exiles. "It's a
song of hope," says Pit. "Finally we may be free."

Pit's family has a long history of defying Castro. His grandmother came
to this country during the revolution in the 1950s, when she could see
her side was losing. Pit's parents met in Miami, but his dad soon took
off, leaving his mother to raise him alone by working three jobs.

As a teen, the rapper developed skill at both rhymes and networking. He
started winning emcee battles, and through them eventually met key
players in the Florida rap scene, like Luke Campbell and Lil Jon. His
connection to the latter led to a contract with Jon's label, TVT Records.

In the meantime, Pit's dad came back into his life. The two stayed close
until the father died in May last year, at 55, of liver disease. Despite
that painful experience, and the seriousness of Pit's political
interests, most of El Mariel remains a sexy party romp. One of the most
fun club cuts samples another Southern classic, the B-52's Rock Lobster.
"I wanted something that sounded like Gnarls Barkley or OutKast -
something every college kid could go crazy for," Pit says.

In other words, he wanted a crossover point for rock fans. Clearly, Pit
means to bridge every crowd he can, while understanding that few Latin
rappers have achieved such mainstream success. The exceptions: Big Pun,
Fat Joe and, lately, reggaeton's Daddy Yankee.

For Pit, his heritage has become a nuanced issue. On the one hand, he
has often said he doesn't consider himself a Latin rapper but a rapper
who happens to be Latin. On the other, he intends to put out an
all-Spanish CD early next year, for the express purpose of getting
nominated for some Latin awards. Also, he says he wants "to climb both
the Latin and the American charts at the same time."

Ultimately, Pit says he sees no difference between the two. Similarly,
he feels the story of is every American's story. "The Haitians had their
boatlift, there were the slave ships, and now the Mexicans are coming
from over the border," Pit explains. "If you think about it, everyone
can relate to El Mariel."

- Copyright (C) 2006 MCT Information Services

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