Here are two
cuts from Sage Francis' new CD, Human the Death Dance. Some
might argue Sage is rapping, not performing poetry -- Sage might
argue otherwise. Take a listen yourself and then cast your
vote:
Current
vote (through June 22):
Poetry 79 %
Not poetry 21 %
NOTE: After casting your
vote, you might get an error message telling you the page
isn't working. Don't worry -- THAT'S an error. Your vote will
come through!
TOUR DATES: Boston, May 23-24; New York
City, May 25-26; Long Island, May 27; Philadelphia May 29;
Baltimore, May 30; Washington D.C., May 31; Chapel Hill, N.C.,
June 1; Atlanta, June 2; Orlando, June 4; New Orleans, June 6;
Houston, June 7; Dallas, June 8; Austin, June 9; Albuquerque,
June 11; Phoenix, June 12; Tucson, June 13; Los Angeles, June
15; Pomona, Calif., June 16; San Diego, June 17; San
Francisco, June 19-20; Portland, June 22; Seattle, June 23;
Bellingham, Wash., June 24; Bend, Ore., June 25; Boise, Idaho,
June 27; Salt Lake City, June 28; Denver, June 29-30; Omaha,
July 2; Iowa City, July 3; Minneapolis, July 5; Chicago, July
6-7; Grand Rapids, Mich., July 9; Detroit, July 10;
Pittsburgh, July 11; Providence, R.I., July 12. Additional
performances for the Rock The Bells Festival: New York City,
July 28; San Bernardino, Calif., Aug. 11; San Francisco, Aug.
18.
Sage Francis still remembers
the names - nerd rap, hick-hop, backpacker - other hip-hoppers
have hurled his way since he first picked up a microphone.
"Art fag was the least
offensive term of them all, and poetry is one of the main
reasons I get that tag," he says. "A lot of that has
to do with how vulnerable you make yourself in your music. When
they say keep it real in core hip-hop, they only mean that to a
point. When I say it, I mean it by sharing, and spoken word
helped me do that."
A decade ago, Francis made his
way in and out of Providence, R.I., through independent,
underground tunnels, and he was the first hip-hopper signed to
the punk/hardcore record label Epitaph. He's also among the
first and few who have bridged hip-hop to performance poetry,
winning credibility and keeping audiences on both ends.
Poetry dances atop the musical
underpinnings of his new CD, Human the Death Dance, and
Francis seems motivated to reawaken that corner of his crowd to
his music. Toward that end, Francis has invited slam poetry icon
Buddy Wakefield to perform along his spring tour.
"I don't feel like I have
a very strong spoken word following," Francis says.
"I'm involved in it - I'll go to the National Poetry Slam
and shake hands, kiss babies and check things out, but I don't
feel like the stuff I do has made a big enough mark to (make
poetry fans) know my music."
Francis modeled his early raps
on the political punch of Chuck D and Public Enemy, but his
emergence as a rapper and poet came during the mid-90s, on
parallel tracks. Francis was a student at Dean College in
Franklin, Mass., when he attended his first spoken word
performance, catching Patricia Smith, a popular poet and
playwright who was later fired as a Boston Globe columnist for
fabricating some of the subjects in her newspaper work.
"She didn't use a mic or
anything, just walked through the crowd, bellowing, and it was
literally one of the most powerful pieces I've seen to
date," he recalls. "At the time, I was only doing HH,
but my writing was becoming very involved, very intricate, and I
automatically saw a relationship between what she was doing and
what I was doing. It just opened up these floodgates for
me."
Two years later, Francis says,
they were on the same plane to Austin, Tex., to compete in the
National Poetry Slam. Francis didn't dabble for long in
competitive poetry - he now calls slam "the bane of the
spoken word world" - but he credits his experiences for
honing his writing and, more important, boosting his confidence
he could find an audience for rap with both a personal and
political consciousness.
He points to his album Personal
Journals and a cut called "Inherited Scars,"
inspired by his sister, who used to cut herself. That kind of
personal story, Francis says, doesn't go over well with typical
hip-hop audiences.
"If I go to an open-mic
hip-hop event and try to execute these ideas, it's like 'ehh.'
People want me to battle or dis somebody," he says.
"But here was a vulnerable song and shows a lot of
self-doubt, and not only is that not really dealt with in
hip-hop, I didn't hear any music dealing with this subject
matter. And the feedback I got from that song was crazy, people
telling me they were going through the same thing."
Human the Death Dance
doesn't seem, on the surface, as an album rooted in the spoken
word - musical contributions come from Mark Isham, Jolie Holland
and Alias, among others. But Francis insists he wouldn't have
his following and future as a rapper if not for the years he
spent performing poetry.
"I feel like I cut my
teeth in all the right places at all the right times and now I
can apply it in all the ways that makes sense," says
Francis, who also runs his own record label, Strange Famous
Records.
"Spoken word and hip-hop
are (equally) important to me in what I do, and I feel like I've
melded the two," he says. "It's tough to say what I do
is or isn't spoken word or hip-hop, because I can perform this
stuff a capella and it works just as well as with a beat. When
words can retain just as much punch on their own, that's when
you know you're a writer."