Roanoke hip-hop, hounded by troubles with police in recent years, has taken a new twist. Thwarted on the club scene, groups such as Mack Jones and True Sound booked their own shows, produced albums out of bedroom studios and sold CDs on street corners.

Whether in Byron Mack's True Noke studio in his Salem apartment or at the Downtown Music Lab on Kirk Avenue, Roanoke hip-hop lives on, even if it's underground.

For every Jay-Z , there's ten thousand of me,

A dope emcee not in the industry.

I wanna make it big and be a superstar,

Too bad I have no family members that are A&R's.

— Mack Jones, "Underground"

———

Until recently, there were Roanoke Valley clubs that hosted rap shows.

Throughout the late '90s, hip-hop artists were booked in the building at 324 Salem Ave., known most recently as Factory 324 and formerly as the Iroquois Club, The Ghost of Hollywood and Hell's Kitchen. In 1999, the building became Desire's Restaurant and Lounge, a club that was run in part by Gary "Bo" Perdue, a hip-hop promoter who'd brought DMX and other acts to Roanoke. But the club lost its license and eventually closed after alleged problems with violence, drugs and after-hours alcohol.

More recently, Big Daddy's, at the corner of First Street and Luck Avenue, catered to a hip-hop crowd, but it too closed after attracting police attention.

Since then, Roanoke music venues have been careful about booking hip-hop acts, sticking instead to bread-and-butter blues, cover and even punk bands in lieu of rap.

Hit the studio aka Byron's house,

Fire up the E machine

with the broken mouse,

Create some new hits take it to the mix.

Buying blank CD's when I should have bought kicks.

———

Roanoke native Byron Mack was born into a musical family. His grandfather played in a group and his aunt, Jane Powell, still gets paid to sing on Norwegian Cruise Line. Mack started rapping seven years ago, when he was 17. Shortly after that, he bought his first four-track mixer.

He joined a group of other rappers and spent time perfecting his rhymes, but said it was "more of a hobby" than something he took seriously. While in the group, Mack released a solo album as MC Poseidon. He also met Case Jones, his partner in Mack Jones, whose real name is Casey Jaffa.

"We ended up as the only ones who went through taking it to a serious level," Mack said.

They've worked together nearly every day for almost a year, and in that time have opened for Big Daddy Kane at the Lynchburg City Armory and the Ying Yang Twinz at the Star City Skate & Play Center, in addition to playing a number of out-of-town gigs. Over the course of three weeks last fall, they recorded a CD, "Phat Kidz Need Gigz" in Mack's Salem apartment, released it on their own True Noke label and started selling it at shows, through the Internet and to kids at high schools and colleges.

Even if we blaze the stage,

we're not getting paid,

Doing free shows everyday

('cause we underground).
———

So far, true to the album's title, Mack Jones has been unsuccessful at getting gigs in Roanoke clubs.

"There're no outlets around here," Jones said. "If we were a rock 'n' roll band, we could walk right in and get booked. But we get laughed out of the building."

"The fact of the matter is, when you tell people it's a hip-hop show they assume it's going to be trouble," Mack said.

Genesis Osagboro, a rapper who works with high school kids at the Downtown Music Lab and performs with the live band True Sound as well as the rap group Remnant, said he has had similar problems.

"The music scene's a little bit slow," said Genesis, a Virginia Tech graduate. "That's just due to a lack of venues willing to carry hip-hop. They're afraid of what they see in the mainstream. They say they don't want 'that crowd' in here."

There have been a few inroads; Genesis has performed at FloydFest and Baylee's in Blacksburg. NRG House of Music has booked True Sound, and although general manager James Pace said turnout was fairly low, he's interested in future shows.

"I personally am excited about watching hip-hop grow in this area," Pace said. "It's on the up. But unfortunately people hear hip-hop and figure it's something negative."

Pace said he wants to book more hip-hop shows, but is doing it sparingly, as the NRG crowd tends to prefer jazz and world music.

As a result, hip-hop groups have either played out-of-town gigs or booked their own shows. So far Mack Jones and its True Noke label has found success booking up to eight acts, including other Roanoke rap groups like the Goon Platoon and the Future Gangsters, in "showcases" at the old Dumas Hotel on Jefferson Street. Shows in December and February were attended by 150 to 200 people each.

I got a four channel mixer, a deal on a mic

and some blank cd's and

can't pay the bills and lights.

...

Midi cables my crew fools repping,

Stickerlabels Fruity Loops and Cool Edit,

No Rovers in a old Trooper we flossing,

Roll over out of bed to the booth in the closet.
———

Despite the success of the Dumas shows, Roanoke rappers find themselves still hustling for gigs, still recording in Mack's apartment, still faced with having to do everything themselves. And they're still trying to find a balance between their music and their day jobs: Mack works at Fazzoli's, Jones at CVS and Genesis at the Downtown Music Lab and Total Action Against Poverty. They hope their do-it-yourself ethic will transfer to other rappers in the area.

"Hopefully people will see us and say, 'Hey, they did it. We can do this ourselves, too,' '' Jones said. "Then maybe they'll set up a show and return the favor to us. I think the more people we get involved - sooner or later people will start booking gigs and renting us spots.

"I'm not trying to be rich and famous. It's just an outlet for me. If I can get paid for it, that'd be great."

— This story originally appeared in The Roanoke Times on March 3, 2004.