Hip-hop in Sioux Falls?

By: ROBERT MORAST
Argus Leader

Published: May 22, 2003

Growth is slow, but followers say it will take hold

Sioux Falls and hip-hop are about as synonymous as Arizona and igloos.

But when Rhode Island-based Sage Francis performs his underground hip-hop at the Schulte Room in the Washington Pavilion on Monday, it will be the second hip-hop show there in less than two months.

Compound that with the locally-organized hip-hop battle in the Schulte Room on May 30, the June 7 Bone Thugz-N-Harmony concert at the Ramkota Hotel and upcoming releases from local hip-hop artists Soulcrate Music, Carlos Rossi, the Noblemen and Night Shield Entertainment, and it appears that Sioux Falls may have an active hip-hop population.

But it could be nothing more than coincidence as local hip-hop participants are hesitant to say the genre flourishes in South Dakota’s largest city.

“I wouldn’t say there’s a hip-hop scene around here. It’s too early,” says Wes Eisenhauer, one of two emcees in Soulcrate Music. “I say, give it a year or two here, and it’s going to be a lot bigger. I don’t think a lot of kids here are exposed to it or even know it’s around.”

If they aren’t aware of the local connections, area youths are aware of the style.

A walk in the mall clues you in to kids who wear various forms of hip-hop fashion – from the Eminem white-T-shirt look to the infamous FUBU garb draped on many East Coast rappers. Any time spent on The Loop reveals vehicles pumping out hip-hop beats from souped-up stereo systems. And the music has weaved its way onto Indian reservations, where youths say they can relate to the inner-city poverty talked about in the raps.

The local music scene is no different. Starting with the now-defunct act Slamhound, slices of hip-hop have been slipping into various rock shows for the past few years. Only now, it appears ready to take a stand on its own.

“That’s not surprising at all,” Francis says via e-mail. “Hip-hop has permeated all corners of the Earth. It’s a challenge to find a place that hip-hop hasn’t infiltrated yet.”

“I think the hip-hop scene just needs to be discovered,” says Josh “Tureign” McGee, organizer of the upcoming hip-hop battle. “There’s a lot of talent here, but there’s no outlet. There’s no hip-hop (radio) station.”

That’s why events such as McGee’s battle will be key in the development of any type of scene.

“Those are going to be the big building blocks to getting a real hip-hop scene,” says Corey Gerlach, DJ for Soulcrate Music.

Through their live shows and active self-promotion, Soulcrate Music, formerly Urban IIIs, has exposed locals to the feel of underground hip-hop, which eschews the street-thug attitude and materialism that some mainstream rappers glamorize.

“So many people just dismissed it as an art form. Then it was shoved in their face,” says Jayson Weihs, a local promoter. “I think a lot of it had to do with Urban Ills and Soulcrate Music playing around and exposing people to it.”

The reaction isn’t by chance. The Soulcrate crew is intent on starting a buzz in its hometown.

“I’m fine with where I’m from, and it would be cool to have something happen here rather ... (than moving) to a city where it’s going to be accepted,” Eisenhauer says. “I want it to be accepted here, and I think it can be.”

While Soulcrate’s sound has been a regular attraction at Great Plains Coffee and intersected the all-ages music scene, other area hip-hop heads are exposing other portions of the community.

Along with Soulcrate as one of the area’s veteran rap groups, the Noblemen have hosted various hip-hop happenings. And now McGee, a native of Omaha, is taking the initiative to enlighten people about the local talent pool.

His hip-hop battle will feature performers such as Rossi, the work of hip-hop artists and 16 emcees ready to verbally spar with each other in a tournament format. The one with the most skill will win $200.

“I started thinking, I might as well throw one here before someone else does and doesn’t know how it’s done,” McGee says.

Though the first real hip-hop battle in Sioux Falls, McGee expects to get a capacity turnout for the event.

Weihs, who regularly brings rock bands to Sioux Falls, says some of his most successful shows have been hip-hop gigs.

When he brought in the Minneapolis rapper Eyedea in April, he attracted 230 people to the Pavilion’s Schulte Room.

“It’s too bad, because I’d really like to get some rock acts into the Pavilion, but the only thing that is going on there is hip-hop because that’s the only thing people are supporting,” Weihs says.

The Sage Francis event is his, too, and he expects the show to do well. Francis, who recently was signed by indie powerhouse Epitaph Records, has a local following, and with Soulcrate on the bill, there should be a crowd.

For the rappers who come from South Dakota reservations, the allure of hip-hop makes sense.

Early forms of hip-hop were embraced by urban residents because the songs documented impoverished inner-city life.

Gabriel Night Shield says that’s also the reason his rap is being embraced by inhabitants of South Dakota reservations.

“It’s almost like the same environment,” he says. “Poverty, alcoholism, gang violence. Obviously, the res probably isn’t as bad as downtown New York, but it’s a bad situation.”

Night Shield grew up on the Rosebud Indian Reservation. Tonight, he performs his reservation-inspired rap at the Multi-Purpose Center in Mission.

“Most of our audience is from the reservation,” he says. “They love it out there; it’s almost unbelievable. A lot of the kids can relate to what I speak about.”

Rossi, who is part of the Lower Brule Sioux Tribe, sees the same thing. With his all-Native American rap group, Da Willin, he’s going to tour state reservations this summer.

“We’re just trying to stay with our people and bring more Native American knowledge to the world,” Rossi says.

Even with the star appeal on reservations, Night Shield says hip-hop still is an underappreciated commodity in South Dakota.

“It’s definitely still underground,” he says. “But I kind of like it underground.”

If the number of rappers grows, it might not be underground for long.

“I’m just waiting,” Eisenhauer says. “I always say we can’t be the only people doing this. There’s got to be kids in their rooms writing raps.”

McGee hopes his battle will bring them out, if not inspire them to try a hand at hip-hop.

“Instead of going out and getting guitars and drum sets, they’ll get microphones and notepads and pens,” he says. “I think it’s starting right now.”

“But maybe one out of 20 is serious about it,” Eisenhauer says. “I’ve heard many a kid that said, ‘I’m going to buy some turntables.’ Then three months down the road, they’re like, ‘Do you know anybody that wants to buy some turntables?’ ”

Like with many things, only the truly dedicated will stick with it. But the fact that kids are trying to become part of the scene speaks volumes about its potential growth rate.

“Once it hits and kids start knowing when it’s going to be around, that’s when things are going to get going,” Eisenhauer says.

“Things like that don’t just happen overnight. People need to be patient,” Gerlach says. “In five years, I hope there’s an actual hip-hop community where there are graffiti writers, B-boys and breakdancers and a tight-knit group of DJs and emcees.”