THE CONTENDERS

HERE’S WHO’S TRYING TO BREAK THROUGH THE COLOR BARRIER

He wears moccasins and

cardigans, affects a nasal

whine, and pens lyrics

about He-Man and Dakota

Fanning. And at ²³, Asher

Roth is one of rap’s new Great White

Hopes—each one an object lesson

in race, music, and marketing in the

Facebook era—and as with most, his

career is no hood-to-riches tale. In

²⁰⁰⁶, he was an elementary education

major at Pennsylvania’s West Chester

University; a year later, a dropout

signed to SRC/Universal. His first rhyme

showcase, The Greenhouse Effect, was

produced by mix-tape kingpins DJ

Drama and Don Cannon and dropped

in June; his debut album is slated for

release next year, with multiplatinum

hook man Akon signed on for a single.

His very existence still poses questions. “What does a rapper look like?” Roth spits on “The Lounge.” “Is he tan, is he black, white? / Is he blacked out, high on a crack pipe? / Or more the cat that will ride on a half-pipe?” Similar puzzlement surrounds the new wave of rapping Caucasians who are gaining critical acclaim and industry respect when “white rapper” has come to mean either Eminem or the wiggerish hopefuls on a VH¹ reality show. There’s Yela Wolf, a longhaired Alabama skater with a Snoop Dogg drawl, who samples Pink Floyd and the Cars; gangsta-rapping Lil Wyte, a longtime associate of Three 6 Mafia; and Dirt Nasty and Andre Legacy, L.A. sleaze rappers with songs about Sunset Strip cocaine crawls and B-list celebs.

But for all their stylistic diversity,

each has to contend with an ugly

reality: Other than rap-rock hybrids

like Kid Rock and Everlast, Eminem and

Paul Wall are the only white rappers to

go platinum in the past ¹⁵ years. Ever

since the Beastie Boys burst onto the

mid-’⁸⁰s charts, labels have struggled

to find white rappers with marquee

personas. The recent flop of Tastemaker,

Pittsburgh Slim’s ²⁰⁰⁷ debut EP for Def

Jam, only underlines the challenges.

Hanging with black rappers has no

doubt helped Memphis-based Lil Wyte

(born Patrick Lanshaw). Although best

known for his appearances on Three ⁶

Mafia’s cornball MTV show Adventures

in Hollyhood, Lil Wyte has released

three albums. “When I go to these

small hoods, towns, and crunk-ass

all-black clubs, I get the same respect

that I would get at a white club in

[Memphis],” he says. “Black people

know [Three 6 Mafia’s] DJ Paul and

Juicy J wouldn’t fuck with just some

white dude.” But being a club draw

doesn’t necessarily translate to album

sales. Lil Wyte’s last release, ²⁰⁰⁷’s The

One and Only, sold a modest ⁸¹,⁰⁰⁰ copies for Warner Brothers affiliate

LIL WYTE
“I’ve never had negatives with being
white. It’s been love wherever I went.”

ANDRE LEGACY
“A lot of people think I’m black just
from hearing my voice.”

DIRT NASTY
“I think if you’re a white rapper, you need
an angle. My angle is comedic.”

YELAWOLF
“I’m only reminded about being white
by really green people, rookies.”

Asylum. “I’d love to hit that radio mainstream,” he says.

According to MC Serch, it may be awhile before Lil Wyte gets that shot. “The major labels are clueless,” says Serch, formerly of ³rd Bass and a host of VH¹’s Ego Trip’s The (White) Rapper Show and Miss Rap Supreme. “They don’t know how to multiculturally [promote] a white rap artist at radio right now.” He thinks independent artists have a better chance at success and points to the likes of Aesop Rock, El-P, and Sage Francis as proof. “They’ve found a way to be self-sufficient and find a niche.”

That might be why Yela Wolf (born Michael Wayne Atha) left Columbia in ²⁰⁰⁷ after one single, “Kickin’, ” a low-rider jam about life in the backwoods. “They’re just fuckin’ snails,” Yela Wolf says of the big labels. “There’s a level of bureaucracy you have to go through with a major that you don’t have to deal with when you’re independent.” Now Yela Wolf is focusing on building an audience by playing shows and posting free mix tapes on MySpace. “Putting an album out is not a priority,” he says. “It’s more important for us to have people to buy it first.”

“YOU’VE GOT PEOPLE WHO ARE GOING
TO HATE REGARDLESS,” SAYS ROTH.

Neither Dirt Nasty (a.k.a. former MTV VJ Simon Rex) nor Andre Legacy (Armen Melik) has much of a catalog besides one self-titled solo CD apiece, but they still pack nightclubs around the world. During a recent gig in Sacramento, California, girls jockeyed for position at the front of the stage and the audience screamed along to Nasty’s gold-chains-and-coke electro homage “¹⁹⁸⁰.” “What we bring to the table is what every high school kid wants to hear, which is that shit-talkin’ we do,” he said before the show. Major labels have come calling, but for now he’s not interested. “The labels are doing ³⁶⁰ deals where they’re trying to get your merch, because no one’s buying CDs anymore,” he said. “I think the times, in a weird way, actually benefit the independent artist.”

Former junkie hustler Mickey Avalon (who with Nasty and Legacy performs as Dyslexic Speedreaders) only sold ⁶³,⁰⁰⁰ copies of his ²⁰⁰⁶ Interscope debut, but instead of changing labels, he decided to change himself. For his second album, due next year, he enlisted a star-making producer: Doctor Luke, the man behind Katy Perry’s “I Kissed a Girl” and Kelly Clarkson’s “Since U Been Gone.” “I’m still saying the same shit, but [Doctor Luke] just makes the songs bigger sonically,” Avalon says. “The whole idea of getting a pop producer is to get my message out.”

As for Asher Roth, he’s still focused on making straight-ahead hip-hop—and his label is set on making it salable, capitalizing on the proven Beastie Boys formula. Early marketing campaigns made much of Roth’s aborted academic career. “What if one of the Beastie Boys went solo? That’s where I’m going with it,” says SRC’s Steve Rifkind, who helped launch the careers of Wu-Tang Clan and Mobb Deep. But the mild-mannered Roth seems an odd fit for the wild-frat-boy gimmick. Yes, his MySpace page features photos of him sitting on the toilet and scrawling his name on passed-out revelers, but he sounds apologetic over “Rub on Your Titties,” a Greenhouse Effect track inspired by a visit to Atlanta strip club Cheetah Lounge. Roth defends SRC’s marketing, arguing, “They’ve let me do me.” But he later admits his identity is a source of some confusion: “I’m still figuring out who I am as a person.”

Roth knows finding success isn’t going to be easy. “You’ve got people who are going to hate, regardless,” he says. “They’re going to hate because I’ve got longer hair and I’m white. They’re going to be like, ‘This is wack as shit. This is corny.’ But at the end of the day, my music is honest music. I’m pretty sure people are starting to recognize that.”