By Christine Chiao
Back in the States for a spell, Jin took the stage at the Japanese American National Museum after sharing thoughts on the rap industry, his craft, and what fans can expect from him next.
For all that has been written on Jin Au-Yeung, not enough is focused on his artistry. Too many articles have myopically focused on his ethnicity. There is the possibility that discussing his work, as open as he is, can only partially capture the artist better known to rap fans and listeners as Jin, Jin Tha Emcee, or 100 Grand Jin. There are facets of him that simply do not materialize until one sees him in action, in the context of what he seems destined to do: flow about anything and everything that he is inspired to speak on at the moment.
Zooming back and forth between macro and microcosmic perspectives, he is the consummate observer. After all, Jin's talent as a freestyle rapper is predicated upon innate observational skills that emphasize sharp visual and aural senses. But that only partially explains his allure as a performer. It's his ability to translate into rhyme his immediate surroundings and his awareness of the zeitgeist, which often elicits a litany of incredulous near-onomatopoeic shouts and chortles from his audience. This is a reflex that most people are not gifted with. It is also something that has made Jin one of the premier battle rappers of our time. Therefore, it was more than fitting that he was the main draw at the October 17th Eyes & Ears (http: //www.janm.org/events/2008/10/17/eyes-and-ears/) Asian American Hip Hop event, thrown by the Japanese American National Museum in downtown Los Angeles.
Backstage before his performance, Jin was found breaking off a freestyle to the instrumental of Mike Jone's "Back Then (http: //www.youtube.com/watch?v=jiImIAt7GRM)" for a few people milling around in the green room. Jin shares that he hasn't spit in a non-performative setting for a while, speculating that perhaps it's due to age or that he just hasn't been in the mood. But he is reminded of how much he enjoys it and says that he should return to doing it from time to time. He likens freestyling to basketball freethrowing -- both skills that can grow rusty from lack of use.
He starts the interview on a creative high from the impromptu session that was joined by a young rapper named Toestah whom he had seen on MySpace. Toestah's grin when Jin acknowledges him lets on that he was pleased not only that he's been woven into rhyme, but that Jin knows him from his popular site. Toestah would later reappear in the freestyle (http: //www.youtube.com/watch?v=qVu0pma--VY) that Jin kicks off his on-stage performance with.
Rap as both an industry and art form is famously and sometimes dangerously competitive. It is not uncommon for a rapper to aggrandize himself at the expense of belittling others. For all the energy Jin brings in battles, he could be mistaken as someone who carries that aggression over to the way he views fellow rappers. Instead, he subscribes to the more transcendental philosophies of community that Hip Hop can often inspire.
"If I find something to be super awesome, I will tell you that is super awesome. " he says. "I have no problems. Sometimes people feel like they can't compliment other people without seeming soft or showing it as a sign of weakness or something. I'm not that at all. I'm the first one to say, when I hear something, 'Yo, that is crazy. You're on to something.' I will tell them."
Some of the rappers in the game whose lyrical skills he respects are the well-rounded and clearly witty ones. Aside from bigger names like Jay-Z, Nas, and Wu-Tang Clan's GZA (a.k.a. The Genius), Jin highlights Long Beach native Crooked I, whom he admires him for having an incredible command of the English language. His respect for linguistically adept artists seems to parallel such expectations he has for himself. Fluent as Jin is in Cantonese, he admits that rapping in English comes much more naturally to him. He started to acquire more Cantonese vocabulary and sayings while he has been promoting his first Cantonese language album ABC (among other things) in Hong Kong over the last three months. He likes to incorporate them into his rhymes to jar preconceived notions of what a self-proclaimed ABC (American Born Chinese) supposedly knows. Sometimes, he would even ask Hong Kong journalists mid-interview to explain unfamiliar words or phrases so he could build up his arsenal.
Jin's craft when it comes to being a recording artist has been a journey. While he doesn't regret his first and only Ruff Ryders affiliated album The Rest Is History, in retrospect he can see that it was rough in some respects. His discography shows him growing more assertive as he gained more creative control over his image.
Battling has never been an issue for Jin though. He never backs down when he's facing an opponent in a cipher or heading off a racist attack. His moniker 100 Grand Jin refers to the Fight Klub Championships he won back to back in 2004 and 2005, each awarding him $50,000. The name, which was suggested by someone after he won the second time, appealed to him. Yet, he is reluctant to accept credit as an activist for having defended Asian Americans on wax against racist jibes made by media personalities like Miss Jones and Rosie O'Donnell. He says, "People give me more credit than I maybe even deserve. You know, they'll say 'Jin is like an activist. He's like a voice. He's fighting for justice and fighting for what's right.' I mean, that's all great and I'm honored that they would bestow that on me, but realistically I'm just one person expressing how I feel about these things. It just so happens that a lot of Asians feel the same way, but the harsh reality is that no one ever really speaks up about these types of things."
That the rap audience grows increasingly technologically savvy has only helped him maintain a presence in the soundscape. In fact, Jin's involvement with projects like his personal website JininHK.com (redirecting traffic from ABCJin.com) and the online rap battle Spitcam corresponds with the paradigm shift that rap has been undergoing for the past decade or so due to the internet. In an era where rap-hopefuls-turned-success-stories, like Soldier Boy Tell'Em, have notably used MySpace to launch their careers, the meaning of place in Hip Hop now takes on new dimensions.
To Jin, the internet means that geography no longer really dictates what kind of sound a Hip Hop artist will have, nor does it predict what type of creative direction he will go toward. Whereas Jin is often associated with the East Coast for having strong lyrical skills, he shrugs off any regional connection as a rapper. Instead, he sees his upbringing, his experiences growing up in Miami, living in Queens and now Hong Kong, as equally significant in informing his perspective. When it comes to laying down tracks for an album, he adopts a similar multi-directional reasoning: "The thing about my creative process, as far as writing songs and stuff, I always approach it in a different way from all aspects." The beat can inspire him as much as the song concept does.
Even with writing rhymes, while Jin prefers to flow directly from his mind, he doesn't put value on memory over paper as guide. He clarifies, "My method is, I'm going to sample Bruce Lee right here. My style is no style. Like it'll all be water. Go with the flow, whatever it is." This unboundedness reflects his preference to let certain things arrive at its own path.
Though he is no longer working on what was projected to be the next album Birthdays, Funerals, and Things in Between, due to certain parties involved, he will be starting work on a second Cantonese album which he plans to release in Hong Kong. Despite some skepticism over the permanence of Hip Hop in Hong Kong, given the limited amount of Hip Hop acts, Jin says that his audience has been rather supportive. They've been going up to him and expressing their admiration.
He is also considering another English album that he is currently tossing around a few ideas for, one of which may be called Fast Forward.
"It's got a couple of meanings behind it," he notes. "One is just thinking about the future. You know, when you fast forward and plan for the future? And [also], to think progressively. Fast forward, like forward-thinking. It's what I want to promote. So that's the theme of that album. To not to dwell on the past. Fast forward."
It will most likely be released independently as Jin finds that there is less purpose in putting out albums through major labels any more.
When asked about artists he would like to work with, at first he names Ludacris and includes those whom he calls the Jay-Z and Nas figures in the industry (the latter examples he admits may sound clichéd). He wavers a bit thereafter, then explains, "I always look at things like collabos [and think] they should happen in a very organic way."
This clearly extends further than his flow. As a rapper whose modus operandi adapts with the moment, he keeps his options open because his past and his talents demand no less. And so it is only in looking at how freestyling has manifested as both an approach and mindset for Jin, that the trajectory of his artistry (how it came to be and the potential of where it can head toward) becomes more clear.
His music taste for one thing conveys an artist who knows too well the vicissitudes of inspiration. It's why rap is not the only genre appearing on his playlist nowadays. He is listening to music across the gamut, particularly Chinese music from the 70s through 90s that includes songs from pop legend Jacky Cheung. This spirit of malleability is the most evident in his performances. Halfway into Eyes & Ears, he spat a few bars about how, just like the museum, the audience would be making history as long as they stood by him. It was enough to make him stop a few seconds afterwards to recount what he had just come up with. It would appear that at times, until he comes to certain crossroads, even Jin himself cannot fully grasp what he is capable of.
Published: Friday, October 31, 2008
