Thursday, August 31, 2006
Rest home by day ... Rapper by night
In the course of a day, Stephen Davies - aka Stevie D - goes from calling Bingo to raunchy rhyming
During the day Stephen Davies works at the Brandon Oaks Nursing and Rehabilitation Center where he is the activities director. Some residents, such as Elizabeth Spraker (pictured here), are unaware of his night gig as a rapper. Others think he's doing "African chants," he says.
TimesCast
You know we had to get him on here
Jukebox
Illbotz
Stephen Davies is 27 and has worked in nursing homes for eight years.
At one, he met a resident's granddaughter. He had seen her picture before, they got along, went to a party. And that night she heard him rap.
"She liked this side of me," Davies said, walking the halls of Brandon Oaks Nursing and Rehabilitation Center. "But not the rapper side."
They did not go out again.
These are the separate lives of Stephen Davies: During working hours he's Steve the activity director. On stage, as half the rap duo Illbotz, he's Stevie D.
They could both cut it at Catholic school. Davies wears polo shirts, has good posture and a sensible haircut. But when he raps, in his aerobic, sometimes potty-mouthed, often amusing way, Davies makes the girls blush.
Let's linger a moment at Brandon Oaks, where he is calling a game of Bingo. There are seven players, all women, most in wheelchairs.
Davies grew up around Virginia and his voice has Southern edges. When he calls B-5 it sounds like "B-Faahve." He could sing bluegrass baritone, except that when he makes music it tends to be rap.
He started at 12, when he put together his first song on a Casio keyboard (it was called "Come on Dance to This").
Davies, left, with Illbotz partner Marvin "Big Perm" Fowlkes performing at Greystone Tavern in Salem.
At Ferrum College, Davies linked with Marvin Fowlkes (stage name: Big Perm, though Davies said he more closely resembles "American Idol" star Ruben Studdard). Illbotz had formed.
On stage, Davies is the showman, hopping around in oversized toy medallions. He is a thin and enthusiastic yin to Fowlkes' plentiful and subdued yang. Davies raps in staccato bursts of lyrics, Fowlkes flows.
At the end of June, Illbotz headlined a show at Greystone Tavern in Salem. The crowd was light, but eager.
Illbotz had just completed its second album and offered new material but some typical themes. Davies can be vulgar, a word he sometimes uses for his music, but his lyrics always wear a coat of humor.
In "1000 Shades of Awesome" he raps about "doing the sexity sexity" (and rhymes the word "scrotum" with "quote him"). Illbotz work in parody. "Chick-Fil-A" is set to the Beatles song "Yesterday." "We Mo' Gangstalikish" and "It's Illbotic" spoof self-aggrandizing rap songs.
On stage, Davies extends his arm and motions toward the audience as if he is driving an invisible car.
The folks at Brandon Oaks are curious to know what their activity director does at night. Davies warns them that the shows are late and the bars are smoky.
But once, he prepared a rap for the residents to give them a little taste. "They thought it was an African chant," he said.
For now, Illbotz travels Virginia, pushing for more exposure. Booking can be a problem because rock clubs don't want rap and the rap clubs say Illbotz is more comedy than hip-hop.
Still, they send out the e-mails and let record labels hear their music. Steve the activity director explains this during a break in bingo. But even if it all happened, he says, "I'd probably still like to do something with the elderly."
Then it's back to the cards and a final game of blackout. The winner takes a Hershey bar and the players head to their rooms.
Except one woman, who waits in her wheelchair in the hall. She calls out, "Steve, give me a ride."




