By Kelly Dearmore
By Jim Schutze
By Rachel Watts
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Anna Merlan
By Lee Escobedo
By Alice Laussade
Soon enough, something else with the Nappy Roots logo on it became a must-have on the WKU campus: the group's first album, 1998's Country Fried Cess, recorded and sold at ET's. It was in permanent rotation at parties all over Bowling Green, especially the ones DeVille and Big V threw at the house they shared at 1234 Kentucky Street. The word of mouth that moved the disc from one set of ears to another spoke so loudly it was heard by Atlantic Records. Two months after Country Fried Cess hit the racks at ET's, Nappy Roots had signed with Atlantic. It was a fairy tale--a made-for-MTV movie, maybe--down to the fictitious-sounding address of DeVille and Big V's house on Kentucky Street.
Then: nothing. For years, Nappy Roots rode the bench, wondering when anything would finally happen. They wrote and recorded, then did it again. And again. Over time, they amassed several albums' worth of songs, though most of them were never heard outside of the studio a block away from Western Kentucky University. They did manage to put out another self-released disc in 1999, No Comb, No Brush, No Fade, No Perm, but that was almost as frustrating as not releasing anything at all. Nappy Roots' debut for Atlantic, Watermelon, Chicken & Gritz, was finally issued in late February, almost four years later.
"Maaaaaaan," Clutch says, when asked what took so long. He's in Washington, D.C., a couple of days into the Sprite Liquid Mix Tour, an inexplicable package bill with fellow hip-hop acts Jay-Z, N.E.R.D. and Talib Kweli, as well as mope-metal groups Nonpoint and Hoobastank, and 311, which is somewhere in between. He stretches the word out so long, he turns one syllable into three or four words. "To be honest, man, it wasn't our time. You know what I'm saying? It wasn't really our time in the industry. I don't think the industry was ready for Nappy Roots. The people weren't ready for Nappy Roots. From '98 to 2002, it was just a time period in which Nappy Roots, we grew. We developed, as men and as artists. I mean, it worked out."
He's right about that. "Awnaw" has become the kind of hit Atlantic hoped for when it signed the group, the hit Nappy Roots knew they were capable of all those years when Atlantic wasn't doing anything with them. The song, oozing organ and Dirty South snap, has been a fixture on urban radio, as well as MTV and its sister channel, MTV2, which is playing both the album version and a rock remix featuring P.O.D. guitarist Marcos Curiel. (Nappy Roots, in fact, are up for the MTV2 Award at August 29's Video Music Awards.) Featuring fellow Atlantic act, Atlanta-based rapper-producer Jazzy Pha, "Awnaw" (as in, "Awnaw, y'all up and done it") is something of a self-fulfilling prophecy, especially the take-'em-to-church chorus: "Them country boys on the rise."
On the rise, yeah, but not all the way there yet, admittedly. Right now, Nappy Roots are low down on the Liquid Mix Tour bill, continuing to pay dues, remaining on the never-ending installment plan they've been on since 1998. "Even though we're going on early, the crowd is still a nice crowd," Clutch says. "They got us going on at, like, 5 o'clock, man. But, I mean, it's cool. You take the worst and make the best of it."
They're used to that strategy. Instead of fussing and fighting during their long climb from Bowling Green house parties to touring with Jay-Z, they tightened up their sound, making sure that when Atlantic got around to tapping them on the shoulder and pointing at the field, they'd be ready to play until the final whistle sounded. Talking about it now, Clutch almost sounds glad Nappy Roots had those years to themselves. The world might not have been ready for Nappy Roots, but it works both ways: Nappy Roots might not have been ready for the world in 1998.
"We started recording in '98, and the direction we was going, we didn't really have a direction," he explains. "I mean, you know how, like, the label wants to do one thing, and you know down in your heart, I mean, you've gotta do something else. So it was kinda like, um, we had to compromise. We used that four years, that three and a half years to really find ourselves, and to prove to the label that this is what we was gonna do. And that this is what needs to be done and this is what the world needs to hear."