Story and Illustration
By Celia Herrera
cherre12@mscd.edu

    The lights of the Big Apple have drawn a myriad of performing artists to the East Coast for a shot at fame. Who would ever think of leaving New York City—the metropolis where dreams become reality and nightmare in the same breath—to build a base camp in Denver, Colo. in hopes of finding limelight? The notion is bizarre, to say the least; but the Denver-via-Brooklyn-based hip-hop group F.L.A.M. (For Love And Money), a seven-member outfit, lives by the old idiom: it’s not where you’re from; it’s where you’re at.
    The hip-hop lifestyle, as it is portrayed on prime time television, produces dramatic images of hardcore gangsters who live to break every law ever passed. Contrary to the stereotype, the smells of a home-cooked meal and the sounds of a tightly knit family greet anyone stepping into the home of O.P., F.L.A.M.’s main producer. His kin are comfortable in the kitchen admiring the family’s latest addition, a small puppy. In the basement, a recording studio no bigger most people’s bathroom is where F.L.A.M. spends most of their time producing their ticket to a better version of life.
    Three of the seven members of F.L.A.M. have shown up for the interview, but the energy in the room is already elevated and O.P. is impatiently pacing the floor waiting to get started.
    “ I’m O.P., better known as Prime …,” and we’re off. The next hour is a perfect blur. Everyone has something to say, someone to bash, somewhere to be.
    O.P. takes care of the formalities of introducing the crew. “Me, Streets, D Gaf, Mag, Papa, Remo, Ro Bandit, Mels, and J Paul Ghetto, that makes the F.L.A.M team. Everybody plays a part in everything. J Paul does our choreography. Street is my brother, D Gaf is my brother, and they both have solo albums. Street and Papa also have a solo album. I’m gonna step back and let the artists tell you more about it, though.”
    The studio door swings open and in walks Street, ready to tell the world how it is, versus how it should be, according to him. “We Brooklyn natives man …” bursts Street, “…we from New York and we represent those Brooklyn streets. You figure there’s a lot of food out there to eat, so we came out here to see how we can get fat out here.” His voice pounds around the small basement studio as if the volume of this conversation proves its credibility. Street is indisputably the sales rep of the crew.
    “ Colorado don’t have rappers,” claims Street. “They ain’t on the map. I feel like the reason they ain’t on the map is because everybody else is pullin’ each other down. They need a whole new entity to come in here and make it happen for this state, for the city, for the little hoods—Montbello, Five Points. You got dudes here that can make it happen, but they’re not taking that initiative, then let us reign supreme out here. And then we can put those on out here that was hatin’ on us. That’s how much love I got. They can hate on me but I’m gonna still show them love.”
    The lack of unity in the local hip-hop scene is a hot topic. O.P.’s eyes dart around the room as he searches for the right words to explain his experience in Colorado. “It’s all about having some unity out here. A lot of rappers out here can flow but don’t wanna get with us because we’re from the East Coast, so they feel like since we didn’t originate from here, we ain’t got no beans being here. We’re gonna rep Colorado no matter who don’t like us,” he says of their efforts. “All we’re asking is hear what the hell we’re saying,” interrupts Street, “There’s something behind what we’re talking about.”
    O.P. refers to F.L.A.M.’s style as “Mountain Boys” music—a coinable designation. “I’m no different than the next producer,” O.P. says in a calm voice. “When I do my music, I do it with my heart. If it’s hot we roll with it. If it’s not, I’m gonna go back to the lab and bring different flavor to it. You won’t hear the same sound in the next track. I hit all angles with the music,” claims O.P. And he’s largely right. Their latest release, Da Mix Volume 1, proves them able to hold down the underground and easily excel in the mainstream. The album offers a creative variety in both production and lyrical delivery. A second volume is in production now for release in late 2006.
    “ Me, Streets, I’m vivid, yo. I’m clear, I’m bright … you can SEE me.”
    It’s time for Street to leave, but the crew pressures him into spitting a freestyle verse, first. He eagerly grabs a microphone and in 60 seconds flat he has proved that his rowdy persona is in attendance both off and on the mic. A few handshakes are exchanged and he disappears out the door as swiftly as he came in.
    Mel joins in the discussion and immediately rejects the idea of having his photo taken. “Naw, don’t do that, none of that,” he grunts. His discomfort at the fact that there is a camera present doesn’t deter him from jumping in where Street left off. “I’m one of the original members of F.L.A.M., straight from Brooklyn, born and raised. A lot of cats can’t even understand where we’re coming from. I’m gonna put it like this: the game don’t need no more generic-ass niggas. It’s time for somebody to hear us.” Between statements his intensely focused stare identifies Mel as the theorist of the crew.
    Their New York accents untainted by midwest slang and Brooklyn characteristics are obvious in every aspect. The circle reminisces for a moment over memories of their past life in Brooklyn’s Bed-Stuy neighborhood. As young black men in Brooklyn, their entourage has experienced a hefty share of life’s miseries. “We’ve been there, done that. Hustlin’, locked up, homeless, shootin’, shot at—you name it. Niggas got the scars to prove it,” says Mel.
    Perseverance through these times has led them to place tremendous faith in their talents, and a one-in-a-million shot at relocating to the Mile High City more than five years ago. On a parting note, O.P. offers his candid prophecy: “Suit up. We comin’, and we comin’ hard. We ain’t just about this on a street level. We’re about our business.”

 

“Colorado don’t have rappers. They ain’t on the map. They need a whole new entity to come in here and make it happen for this state, for the city, for the little hoods”

STREET from F.L.A.M.