Sola Idowu popularly as Weird MC speaks to JANE KOLADE about her journey to stardom. The veteran rap artist gave insight into how she dealt with parental displeasure at her career choice, and the challenges she faced as a female in the rap genre which was viewed as boys’ club of sorts back then. Excerpts:
THERE were no girls doing rap when you started out, can you tell us about it?
I had always been in awe of people like Curtis Blow, Grandmaster Flash, The Treacherous Three, Big Daddy Kane, Salt n Pepa, Rocks and Chante, and I was thinking, “I would love to do this”. What I loved about Hip-hop music was that it was tongue in cheek, it was spontaneous energy, and there were no limitations per se.
When you started out, there weren’t any ladies in Nigeria doing rap music, so who did you look up to?
The people I sort of looked towards at the time were Queen Latifa, Salt n Pepa, MC Lite, Rocks and Chante. My brother was very worried, and he was like “Hip-hop, Sola, ah in Nigeria! Are you sure? Will people understand it?” But someone has to start and I know for a fact that Nigerians liked hip-hop and rap music, as a lot of Nigerians had imbibed hip-hop culture at the time. I remember at the time that there was a movement, there was Thoroughbreds, Ill Bliss, Mode 9, Dr Fresh; everybody. But I think there was this group way before me called Sound on Sound, there was Ebony, and there was Scratch, I used to go to their house. I would play him my work and he would say, “Wow! You can speak. You should bring this out.”
At a point, I sort of chilled out, I wanted to do something that was like had a fusion sort of feel to it. I noticed that people like Nas, Jay-Z, and the Americans were sounding out their heroes, people like Superfly, James Brown, and I was like, “Who can I sound like? Its either KSA or Fela.” KSA is a guitarist. So I decided on Fela, but with Fela, it’s just like raw. So I took a song of his called Look and laugh, I took the horns and the guitar and added a whole new drum beat to it, and flipped it, and gave it that contemporary hip-hop feel. When I played it for a friend in the studio, he’s Jamaican, and he asked, “What is it? I told him it’s from my country Nigeria.”
So I took it to the studio, after I came out with the single called Allen Avenue. Then I decided that I needed to take it to Fela, I was nervous. I had a friend called Moradeyo who used to live around Fela and told me that she was very close to him. So she took me to him. I will never ever forget when he listened to the music, he loved it, and went like, “You know this is what I am talking about. I don’t know why our people make music and come out sounding like Americans; I like what you have done, this is it, go ahead.” He gave his stamp of approval, and I remember I was so excited. When we were shooting the video I took all my hair off, and he was like, “That is it! That is so African.” And that was how the journey started really.
Can you tell us some of the challenges you faced starting out as female?
Oh my God! First things first, being female. I could tell you, I would be at the studio and if I fiddled with the equipment, they would be like, “Oh no sweetheart, don’t touch the equipment”. And I would be looking at them thinking,” I can operate this stuff, Hello”.
So, they would see me messing around with the mixing desk, touching the samplers, and so on. One day a guy asked me, “I noticed that you’ve been fiddling with the samplers, do you have an idea how it works?” And I was like “Yes.” I told him that I had seen the way they use it in London, and he didn’t believe me, So, I started showing him how to use it, start point, end point, how to set loops, and he was like, “Oh my God.” So it was really difficult, and we were not really given a chance. It was sort of like a boys club. But I told myself, “yeah, I’m coming through and I’m going to smash through that wall.” So it was difficult, but I stood my ground, I was like, “I’m not going anywhere, you embrace me or you die.” Then I met Skid Ikemefuna.
He took a shine off me as well. Then I was trying to get to the major concerts, Golden Tones and all. And he was like, “I’ve seen you a couple of times on stage as well; let’s see you in our next show. So he put me on the first slot in Kano, as he said that he did not want to bring me on in Lagos first, as he wanted to test me out whether they liked me on stage.
And I remember him saying, “Oh my God! I shouldn’t have put you so early because now that you have gone on stage, the tempo has dropped. ” Only two other people were able to sustain the tempo; Shina Peters and Lagbaja. See, I look at the girls today, and I’m just smiling like you girls don’t know that you’re balling. You wouldn’t even know what people like me or Sasha went through. But it got to a point where Lagbaja would do shows at Motherland, and he would be like, “I want Weird MC.”
Going back in time, you did Allen Avenue and it was a hit. How did you feel?
I was shocked; I didn’t know it could happen so quickly. I thought it would take time because it was a different kind of sound, I’m female. But I took that risk because I’ve always wanted to be someone who just stuck outside the rest, and have always said, “Think like there is no box.” I didn’t like to go with the flow.
Tell me how you came about the name Weird?
We had a group called Wierdos, and later broke up. So when I thought of a name, I thought that I needed something different and unique, and then it just clicked, and I decided on Weird. But then my uncles were like Weird, weird means a Abami, and started giving me meanings. And I was like, “That’s not what I mean. I just mean to say that I’m different, unique, outside the box, not strange, or evil, or demonic, that’s not what it means. ”
Most female hip-hop singers like to dress ultra feminine, and sexy but you don’t. You are more boyish. Why is that?
It’s comfortable, I just wanted something really simple. I relate to people like Erykah Badu and Lauryn Hill, it’s almost like she rolled out of bed, and hit the stage. I wanted that girl next door look, and wanted to be me. Not packaged, or branded. They can see the brand anyway; the brand is already in your face. So we didn’t want to go out of our way to do any sort of branding whatsoever. Just keep it natural, keep it organic, keep it accessible, and it worked.
At the point you decided to go into music, were your parents in support of your career?
My dad was so set against it. I remember he said to me in Ijebu language, Se o fe se omo ale? Meaning, do you want to be a bastard? I will never forget. He was upset, and convened a meeting with my uncles, my aunts, and honestly it was a major gathering.
And he said, se kon se pe o fe lo ma se alagbe? Meaning hope you are not going to become a beggar? So I replied, “No its not Alagbe, it’s just something different.” My dad was the traditional Nigerian father, yeah he wanted me to study Law, so I did two years but it was too conventional for me. So when I continued he just shut me out, I would say hello and he would not respond. But my mum sort of backed me a little bit, and was like, E je ko se nkan to fe se. Meaning let her do what she wants, saying stuff like, “I don’t want her to go outside, and anything will happen to her”.
Do you still do music?
I still do. I sort of like took a break, and got to that point where I was soul searching and had more of a spiritual awakening, and felt like I wanted more. I felt that there was something missing. So I took a break. So I came out with Ijo Ya. Ijo ya was another statement.
Do you do things outside of music?
I do, but I don’t want to divulge it.
Do you want to tell us other interests you have?
I love property and recently I went into branding; picking the artiste right from the scratch. I don’t want to wait till he blows before I brand, I brand him right from the beginning. It’s a double whammy; you’re pushing your artiste and pushing the brand.
And then I got involved in a bit of politics, and at some point I saw this clamour to become one of our commissioners and I thought to myself, “I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.” I had been involved in the campaign of Aregbesola, and I was wondering if I wanted to go the route of Arnold Swazennegger. Do you know my real shock? It’s the impact of social media.
If you weren’t doing music, what do you think you would have been doing?
I probably would have been doing movies full time. I am a movie freak; I would probably have been involved as a producer and writer.
There is this claim that some artistes need drugs to boost their creativity. Do you agree?
I think it’s just a myth. No, and I don’t even believe that drugs fuel your creativity.
What fuels your creativity?
First of all, God is the one who gave you the gift. So I can’t believe that you need drugs to use the gift that God gave you. You can’t tell me that someone like R Kelly needs to get high before he can perform.
Who or what inspires you?
Many things do, my environment, when I look at people, especially when I see women who are changing things and doing beautiful things. I feel that my role model right now would be Mo Abudu. She inspires me. When I look at people like that I feel inspired, and feel that I can do more.
You are in your 40s and unmarried, are you still thinking about it?
Well, they say never say never, So I won’t say never.
Were you at any point pressurised by any of your parents to get married?
Both my parents are actually late, so no.
Has your copyright ever been infringed upon?
Oh my God! Ijo Ya. We don’t have a proper structure, and all that, so I just let it be.
So how do you make money in spite of piracy?
Shows – that’s the advantage when you have strong stage skills, and think outside the box. Government shows, private gigs, stuff within and outside Africa.
