The tiny village of Saranac Lake combines with Tupper Lake and Lake Placid to form the Tri-Lakes Region of New York state’s North Country. Nestled in the heart of the Adirondack Park, this area is known for it’s clear alpine lakes, sweeping fall vistas, annual winter carnival, and its rich history.
In the late 1800s Saranac Lake earned a reputation as a restorative place for those fighting Tuberculosis. The region’s “Cure Cottages” became temporary homes for composer Béla Bartók, writer Robert Louis Stevenson, and baseball’s Branch Rickey, among many others. White Pine Camp on Osgood Pond served as President Calvin Coolidge’s Summer White House in 1926; and, of course, the region notably hosted two Winter Olympic Games – first in 1932, and then in 1980. While the area still revels in “The Miracle on Ice,” it continues to produce world-class Olympic athletes today, sending more than two-dozen athletes to the 2010 Vancouver games, and another 11 to Sochi in 2014.
In the late 1800s Saranac Lake earned a reputation as a restorative place for those fighting Tuberculosis. The region’s “Cure Cottages” became temporary homes for composer Béla Bartók, writer Robert Louis Stevenson, and baseball’s Branch Rickey, among many others. White Pine Camp on Osgood Pond served as President Calvin Coolidge’s Summer White House in 1926; and, of course, the region notably hosted two Winter Olympic Games – first in 1932, and then in 1980. While the area still revels in “The Miracle on Ice,” it continues to produce world-class Olympic athletes today, sending more than two-dozen athletes to the 2010 Vancouver games, and another 11 to Sochi in 2014.
But for the past 15 years or so, the region has been producing something one might not expect: exceptionally talented rappers like Cormac – who helped launch the scene as part of the Penny King Productions crew – and, most recently, Sky Buck.
Maybe "scene" is too strong of word to describe Hip Hop's presence in Saranac Lake. It's certainly not a hot-bed of B-Boy culture. There's not a vibrant club scene where MCs and DJs can showcase their talents, and while the area does exhibit some support for the visual arts, one doesn't find "burners" thrown up on the village walls (there's not one point in Saranac Lake, let alone five like NYC's historic, and now lost, graffiti Mecca). But that just makes what these young artists have managed to do all the more remarkable. It speaks to tenacity of a handful of people who saw themselves as rappers even though they didn't fit the type, and to the pervasive power of rap's ability to reach beyond demographics and into a person's creative being. |
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At the turn of the century, a group of friends would discover a shared love for rap. A few years into their friendship they would record their first song in a chicken coup they converted into a makeshift studio, thus giving birth to Penny King Productions, featuring Kirk Sullivan (Navillus Krik), CJ Hagmann (Loco Jesus), Sam Darring (Sammy D), Daniel Surprenant (Mr. Boy), and Cory McGill (Cormac).
"The Coop" became a creative haven where PKP developed their own unique sound and style. Despite members coming and going from the Tri-Lakes area, the five Penny Kings would make it a point to regroup in Saranac Lake in order to write, record, and to perform. Then, in 2005, Sullivan gained access to a recording facility at the University of Southern California. Darring, Surprenant, and McGill were able to make a permanent move to L.A. thereafter, joining Sullivan in full pursuit of a career in music. PKP released The Late Night Scoop as a foursome in 2007, thereby solidifying their reputation as “serious” rappers beyond the Adirondacks. Their legacy intact, PKP would see the mantle of Adirondack Rap taken up by Skyler Buckley (Sky Buck), who released his first mixtape, Young Man, this past April.
"The Coop" became a creative haven where PKP developed their own unique sound and style. Despite members coming and going from the Tri-Lakes area, the five Penny Kings would make it a point to regroup in Saranac Lake in order to write, record, and to perform. Then, in 2005, Sullivan gained access to a recording facility at the University of Southern California. Darring, Surprenant, and McGill were able to make a permanent move to L.A. thereafter, joining Sullivan in full pursuit of a career in music. PKP released The Late Night Scoop as a foursome in 2007, thereby solidifying their reputation as “serious” rappers beyond the Adirondacks. Their legacy intact, PKP would see the mantle of Adirondack Rap taken up by Skyler Buckley (Sky Buck), who released his first mixtape, Young Man, this past April.
How, in an area that according to the latest Census data has a population that is 95% white, did a predominantly black art form take root with a group of kids that probably should've been listening to country? In talking with Sullivan, Darring, Surprenant, and McGill; as well as Buckley, I learned that the story really started with a love for music in general. To a man, each rapper credited their parents with exposing them to a wide variety of musical genres and styles.
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Sullivan: My parents always played oldies and soundtracks to musicals.
McGill: The first artists I remember actually hearing and absorbing were Neil Young, Chris Whitley, Bob Marley, the Grateful Dead, and k.d. lang. My household always had music bumpin! My father was in a couple different cover bands, I remember seeing them play, and my whole family is really into music. Darring: My parents – when they were together – loved big live shows by artist like, Fleetwood Mac, Dire Straits, Paul Simon, Bob Dylan, Santana, Huey Luis & the News, and many others. Surprenant: I remember my mother playing lots of Motown, and my father listening to Steely Dan, Frank Zappa, and the Allman Brothers. I guess it's not the same as having musicians for parents, but I remember being around music constantly. Buckley: I owe all of my initial musicianship to my father. He's a huge fan of the blues, but I was constantly being exposed to a ton of different music. I remember him blasting people like B.B. King, Allman Brothers, Blues Traveler, and Stevie Ray Vaughan and him showing me Incubus because he thought it was cool and unique for a rock group to have an active DJ. He made sure I was aware of the impact that all of the greats, from Hank Williams to Michael Jackson had on today's music, and he taught me to recognize the difference between innovative and cookie-cutter. |
Along with this inherited love for all kinds of music, the influence of friends like Jimmy Latour, along with a love of language would combine with Hip Hop's growing national popularity as a legitimate artform to expose the boys to rap, and to ignite their passion for the genre:
Surprenant: My twin brother and I used to spend lots of time in the gym of Paul Smith’s College where both of my parents worked. We had the chance to be the waterboys for the men’s basketball team, and part of the job was being responsible for the their warm-up music. This was in 1992-95… Since most of the team was kids from New York City, Providence, and other major metropolitan areas in the North East… there was lots of Wu-Tang, Onyx, Snoop-Dog and Dr. Dre, Biggie. One thing I remember was having a tape in our room in that had songs by Wu-Tang Clan before they had even released a studio album. Years later I realized we may have been the only household in the Adirondacks with this kind of exposure to rap and Hip Hop at the time.
Sullivan: Rap music was so pervasive in American culture in the 90s and that's when I fell in love with it. You couldn't turn on MTV without seeing rap videos and that was just part of daily life back then.
Darring: First for me was my love for poetry. I had been writing crap down that rhymes long before I considered turning it into music. CJ found me. He had a recording setup and liked what I was saying so he had me lay down some of my stuff I had in my notebooks. Kirk got wind of it and wanted to get me in the mix at his chicken coop and so it began.
McGill: We never had a computer or cable in my house growing up, so really I relied on my bro and sis’s friends to get the scoop on new stuff. My sister got Eazy E’s Eazy Duz It for Christmas one year… A white family BLASTING “Boys In The Hood” on Christmas morning… My parents were like, “what the hell is this?” And I was like “more please!” I couldn’t believe the shit he was saying!
Buckley: I feel like even though I didn't really hear a whole lot of Hip Hop in my early years, I was still bound to find it extremely engaging. Before I found an appreciation specifically for rapping as an art form, I was drawn to other creative uses of language. Poetry in general is the obvious one, but I've always loved stand-up comedy and I read a lot of books as a kid – in fact I used to think I was going to be an author. With a mind wired for that particular type of creativity paired with a love of music, I think it was only a matter of time before I fell in love with rap. The first artist to resonate with me would have to be Eminem... Not necessarily the stories he told, but I found his supreme control over the English language inspiring to say the very least.
It could've ended there.
Lots of people who love Hip Hop learn the songs of the rappers and artists they listen to and then sing along. But PKP and Sky Buck took it a step further, and made their own music. While Penny King Productions was a unit, each member offers a different take on what it was like to make their songs and to hone their craft. The one thing each rapper's story has in common is each discovered artists whose work would push him down his own creative path:
Surprenant: My twin brother and I used to spend lots of time in the gym of Paul Smith’s College where both of my parents worked. We had the chance to be the waterboys for the men’s basketball team, and part of the job was being responsible for the their warm-up music. This was in 1992-95… Since most of the team was kids from New York City, Providence, and other major metropolitan areas in the North East… there was lots of Wu-Tang, Onyx, Snoop-Dog and Dr. Dre, Biggie. One thing I remember was having a tape in our room in that had songs by Wu-Tang Clan before they had even released a studio album. Years later I realized we may have been the only household in the Adirondacks with this kind of exposure to rap and Hip Hop at the time.
Sullivan: Rap music was so pervasive in American culture in the 90s and that's when I fell in love with it. You couldn't turn on MTV without seeing rap videos and that was just part of daily life back then.
Darring: First for me was my love for poetry. I had been writing crap down that rhymes long before I considered turning it into music. CJ found me. He had a recording setup and liked what I was saying so he had me lay down some of my stuff I had in my notebooks. Kirk got wind of it and wanted to get me in the mix at his chicken coop and so it began.
McGill: We never had a computer or cable in my house growing up, so really I relied on my bro and sis’s friends to get the scoop on new stuff. My sister got Eazy E’s Eazy Duz It for Christmas one year… A white family BLASTING “Boys In The Hood” on Christmas morning… My parents were like, “what the hell is this?” And I was like “more please!” I couldn’t believe the shit he was saying!
Buckley: I feel like even though I didn't really hear a whole lot of Hip Hop in my early years, I was still bound to find it extremely engaging. Before I found an appreciation specifically for rapping as an art form, I was drawn to other creative uses of language. Poetry in general is the obvious one, but I've always loved stand-up comedy and I read a lot of books as a kid – in fact I used to think I was going to be an author. With a mind wired for that particular type of creativity paired with a love of music, I think it was only a matter of time before I fell in love with rap. The first artist to resonate with me would have to be Eminem... Not necessarily the stories he told, but I found his supreme control over the English language inspiring to say the very least.
It could've ended there.
Lots of people who love Hip Hop learn the songs of the rappers and artists they listen to and then sing along. But PKP and Sky Buck took it a step further, and made their own music. While Penny King Productions was a unit, each member offers a different take on what it was like to make their songs and to hone their craft. The one thing each rapper's story has in common is each discovered artists whose work would push him down his own creative path:
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Cormac: I’m pretty sure the first rhyme I wrote had a lot of lines that I bit from the Beastie Boys. Later, like when I was 12 or 13, I got heavy into Wu-Tang, KRS One, Outkast, Def Squad. By then the few rhymes I wrote weren’t directly bitten from them, but I was trying to copy their styles. I suppose by today’s standards I’m “old school,” but I don’t consider myself that. I just love dope beats. The majority of the time when I write, the music directs me. I hear the beat and it’s like it speaks to me, and I’m like, “yeah, I can dig that,” and I speak back to it.
Darring: I was very much influenced by Bay Area rap music... Andre Hicks, E-40, Andre Nickatina, Ray Luv, Coolio Da Unda Dogg, the list goes on. Lots of records by all these guys had me wanting to make music and get my thoughts out. I didn't and still don't consider myself a musician. Cormac was producing music; other people who had beats were producing music... I was simply laying down my poems on top of that. Without the beats / music I was back to doing spoken word. Nobody calls spoken word artist musicians. Only later when I made my solo project, The Nice Guy's Mixtape did I like to listen to my own flow. |
Surprenant: I would give a lot of credit to a friend of ours Jimmy Latour. He was my older brother’s best friend when we were in high school, and he was the first person I knew who was actively trying to record his own music. He had a 16 track digital recorder, and helped us do some of our very first recordings as Penny Kings, he even played bass on all our first tracks. As far as writing my own lyrics, I used to keep a notebook/ journal when I was in 9th grade onwards. Somewhere between 10th and 11th grade, it started turning into little verses. I actually still have the notebook where I actually acknowledged I was trying to write a song, because I titled the page "first try." This evolved into me writing verses and lyrics in all my high school notebooks. I vividly remember one afternoon, leaving my French class, running into Kirk by the water fountain, and both of us talking about how we just spent the entire last period writing raps. I think that moment might be the beginning of any of us discussing this stuff as something we were actually doing.
The first album I remember being blown away by was Midnight Marauders by A Tribe Called Quest. When we were young, my father wouldn't let my brothers and me watch R-rated movies or listen to music that came with an explicit lyrics sticker on it. This kind of limited a lot of rap I could go get myself, so other than the stuff we got from the basketball team, all the music I bought was more of the thoughtful type of Hip Hop, than the gangster rap lots of other people listened to, this Tribe album was a record that was good, popular and didn't have the dreaded explicit lyrics sticker that would have upset my father.
Sullivan: I first memorized Sir Mix-A-Lot's “Baby Got Back” to impress a girl in 5th grade. That's also when I first stumbled onto The Beastie Boys through my older brother, but it wasn't until a few years later when Daniel and his brothers introduced me to less mainstream rap music like A Tribe Called Quest, The Jungle Brothers, Jurassic 5 that I really fell in love.
I always loved rappers who could rap fast and with melody like Bone Thugs N Harmony and I always loved technically proficient rappers like Gift of Gab (of Blackalicious) and Eminem. I always wanted tight rhyme schemes that had some complexity to them and I always wanted to ingrain the rhymes with a little melody. I think an essential part of this story is the fact that our first steps into creating our music coincided directly with the accessibility to new computers which had microphones and allowed us to record ourselves. Our friend CJ Williams was the first to have a new computer around 1999 and when we learned how to record ourselves, that opened up the doors of possibility and we ran through them.
Like the members of PKP, Sky Buck's development began when he immersed himself in the work of rappers he admired:
The first album I remember being blown away by was Midnight Marauders by A Tribe Called Quest. When we were young, my father wouldn't let my brothers and me watch R-rated movies or listen to music that came with an explicit lyrics sticker on it. This kind of limited a lot of rap I could go get myself, so other than the stuff we got from the basketball team, all the music I bought was more of the thoughtful type of Hip Hop, than the gangster rap lots of other people listened to, this Tribe album was a record that was good, popular and didn't have the dreaded explicit lyrics sticker that would have upset my father.
Sullivan: I first memorized Sir Mix-A-Lot's “Baby Got Back” to impress a girl in 5th grade. That's also when I first stumbled onto The Beastie Boys through my older brother, but it wasn't until a few years later when Daniel and his brothers introduced me to less mainstream rap music like A Tribe Called Quest, The Jungle Brothers, Jurassic 5 that I really fell in love.
I always loved rappers who could rap fast and with melody like Bone Thugs N Harmony and I always loved technically proficient rappers like Gift of Gab (of Blackalicious) and Eminem. I always wanted tight rhyme schemes that had some complexity to them and I always wanted to ingrain the rhymes with a little melody. I think an essential part of this story is the fact that our first steps into creating our music coincided directly with the accessibility to new computers which had microphones and allowed us to record ourselves. Our friend CJ Williams was the first to have a new computer around 1999 and when we learned how to record ourselves, that opened up the doors of possibility and we ran through them.
Like the members of PKP, Sky Buck's development began when he immersed himself in the work of rappers he admired:
I can definitely remember memorizing other artist's verses before I started to pen my own. I loved the feeling I got from spitting, even though the bars weren't mine. Beginning to write my own verses seemed like the natural progression to me, and I found that the gratification that came with spitting my own lyrics far exceeded the gratification of reciting someone else's. I started to analyze and copy certain aspects of my favorite emcee's verses; 50 Cent's simple, melodic flows, Eminem's multi-syllabic rhymes, Drake's A A B B A patterns, etc. Mimicry helped me develop the skills that I needed to really start writing unique verses and slowly I fell in love with the technical aspects of rap.
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Each measure is valuable, you can't waste any space. In my mind, the more rhymes and similar vowel sounds I can come up with the better, but it's also important to arrange them into flows that are pleasing to the ear. I look at crafting verses kind of like solving a Sudoku puzzle; everything has to fall into place just right.
For PKP and Sky Buck, absorbing the work of others would, as in all art, become the education that would lead to the development of an individual style, or flow:
Buckley: I'm very meticulous when I'm writing and I've always held technique above emotion. Because of that, most of the verses I wrote in my late teen years were ambitious rhyming-wise and flow-wise, but lacked any real content. Within the past year or so though, I've really been working on figuring out how to rap with authenticity about myself and about things that are actually meaningful to me. I think that's an important development for me artistically and I'm excited to see where I can go with it.
Cormac: I don’t feel like I’ve ever had a signature style, I’ve evolved a whole heck of a lot. I was too quiet when I started, then I was too loud and aggressive, I feel like in the past 5 years I’ve started to come into my own as far as content and skill goes… I still hate on my voice a lot… But it’s gotten better.
Surprenant: My style is an amalgamation of three artists I genuinely admire, Black Thought from The Roots (who I consider the most under-rated rapper of all time) Guru from Gangstar, and Eminem. I never sit down and think, "I'm going to try to write like Eminem and Guru today," but the three of them all do different things very well. I like to try to use complicated rhymes like Eminem, be intelligent but still hard like Guru, and be as awesome as possible no matter who is listening, like Black Thought. I also have a panel of listeners I want to impress, whenever I write a punch line, I always wonder if my older brother would like, if Kirk would like it, and if my friend Paul Stuart who I used to rap with in 2001-02 would like it. They all listen to different kinds of Hip Hop for different reasons, and if any two out of the three of them I can check off, the lyrics can stay.
Sullivan: For me, it was always about creating something new and fresh and collaborating with my brothers in the Penny Kings. We always challenged each other and pushed each other to develop our personal styles and to become more developed artists.
For PKP and Sky Buck, absorbing the work of others would, as in all art, become the education that would lead to the development of an individual style, or flow:
Buckley: I'm very meticulous when I'm writing and I've always held technique above emotion. Because of that, most of the verses I wrote in my late teen years were ambitious rhyming-wise and flow-wise, but lacked any real content. Within the past year or so though, I've really been working on figuring out how to rap with authenticity about myself and about things that are actually meaningful to me. I think that's an important development for me artistically and I'm excited to see where I can go with it.
Cormac: I don’t feel like I’ve ever had a signature style, I’ve evolved a whole heck of a lot. I was too quiet when I started, then I was too loud and aggressive, I feel like in the past 5 years I’ve started to come into my own as far as content and skill goes… I still hate on my voice a lot… But it’s gotten better.
Surprenant: My style is an amalgamation of three artists I genuinely admire, Black Thought from The Roots (who I consider the most under-rated rapper of all time) Guru from Gangstar, and Eminem. I never sit down and think, "I'm going to try to write like Eminem and Guru today," but the three of them all do different things very well. I like to try to use complicated rhymes like Eminem, be intelligent but still hard like Guru, and be as awesome as possible no matter who is listening, like Black Thought. I also have a panel of listeners I want to impress, whenever I write a punch line, I always wonder if my older brother would like, if Kirk would like it, and if my friend Paul Stuart who I used to rap with in 2001-02 would like it. They all listen to different kinds of Hip Hop for different reasons, and if any two out of the three of them I can check off, the lyrics can stay.
Sullivan: For me, it was always about creating something new and fresh and collaborating with my brothers in the Penny Kings. We always challenged each other and pushed each other to develop our personal styles and to become more developed artists.
Rap has always made a point of taking pride in one's place, almost to a fault. Saranac Lake was and is NOT the kind of place you'd expect to nurture any kind of vibrant Hip Hop scene. And it hasn't. And yet we've seen that there are a trickle of artists who have sharpened their skills in the shadow of White Face Mountain, and where they're from influences them in different ways and to varying degrees:
Sullivan: Performing around SL was always a blast... Sold out shows, crazy crowds with mosh pits, cute girls having a blast. I was always proud of the fact that we never tried to be anything other than ourselves. We never tried to rap as thugs or gangsters or drug dealers or pimps. We always portrayed ourselves honestly with authenticity as regular guys who shared common interest of music, girls, weed, having fun, partying, finding ourselves, etc. I think growing up in the ADK's instilled in us a certain pride in our homeland and that always came across in our music.
Surprenant: Our music is and always has been a reflection of where we are from. At our best, we would be these goofy white dudes from The Adirondacks on stage in L.A. who no one ever expected anything out of, and we just had so much fun doing it, that it was hard to deny the quality of the product... I wanted to show the Hip Hop community all over the country how much love for this art form there actually was in the least expected places. You don't have to be from an urban area, or an impoverished background to identify with the messages and the craft.
Some people who helped us out a lot in the early stages of our development would be Carrol Vossler from Blue Seed Studios, which was the first venue to give us a real shot to perform in town. My father Neil Surprenant from Paul Smiths College let us use sound equipment and P.A. stuff when we didn't have access to anything we needed to actually perform live music. Eric Schue used to run a bar in town where we played our first several bigger scale gigs.
McGill: The first time performing was me and my friend James Marino rapping at a little house party in high school. I’m pretty sure no one new how to react… But the first actual performance for a crowd was at the Getaway with my rap crew: Penny King Productions. It was fun. There was a battle that I started the show with and I lost. It was pretty humbling cuz I didn’t see it coming.
I feel like there is no way I could be hard, gangster, or thug because of where I’m from. It just would seem fake. The ADKs will always be home to me. I grew up in the same house in Lake Clear till I was 18 and moved to Cali. My mom still lives in that house. I love it. I just am over 30 winters. They still show love in Saranac Lake for me, and I’m super grateful for that.
Surprenant: Our music is and always has been a reflection of where we are from. At our best, we would be these goofy white dudes from The Adirondacks on stage in L.A. who no one ever expected anything out of, and we just had so much fun doing it, that it was hard to deny the quality of the product... I wanted to show the Hip Hop community all over the country how much love for this art form there actually was in the least expected places. You don't have to be from an urban area, or an impoverished background to identify with the messages and the craft.
Some people who helped us out a lot in the early stages of our development would be Carrol Vossler from Blue Seed Studios, which was the first venue to give us a real shot to perform in town. My father Neil Surprenant from Paul Smiths College let us use sound equipment and P.A. stuff when we didn't have access to anything we needed to actually perform live music. Eric Schue used to run a bar in town where we played our first several bigger scale gigs.
McGill: The first time performing was me and my friend James Marino rapping at a little house party in high school. I’m pretty sure no one new how to react… But the first actual performance for a crowd was at the Getaway with my rap crew: Penny King Productions. It was fun. There was a battle that I started the show with and I lost. It was pretty humbling cuz I didn’t see it coming.
I feel like there is no way I could be hard, gangster, or thug because of where I’m from. It just would seem fake. The ADKs will always be home to me. I grew up in the same house in Lake Clear till I was 18 and moved to Cali. My mom still lives in that house. I love it. I just am over 30 winters. They still show love in Saranac Lake for me, and I’m super grateful for that.
Darring: I left Saranac Lake when I was 14 and didn't come back till I was 19 or so. SL didn't influence me at all in the rap game aside from the company I kept when we all got started together. The other places I had been traveling around to influenced my poems much more. But SL was good to us back in the day. There was nothing else so people were happy to see us grow and make way for the musical arts. It’s still a tough place to create music I believe.
Buckley: I'm not sure that being raised in the Adirondacks has necessarily had a huge impact on my style. I do reference the area semi-frequently in my lyrics because I enjoy taking ownership of / pride in where I was raised. The number one rule of Hip Hop has always been to be authentic and not front as something you're not. I suppose some people might think that growing up in the woods hurts rap credibility... I just see it as something that sets me apart and gives me a unique perspective that is virtually unrepresented in Hip Hop.
I have been lucky enough to receive a lot of support from people in the community. People my age really seem to enjoy it and that is definitely something that sustains me. What really keeps me going though is when I notice my own progress. There is almost no better feeling then when I can impress myself.
So the obvious question becomes, "Why a bunch of white rappers from the Adirondacks? Do they 'count'?" Well, why not? Boundaries tend to arise as marketing mechanisms, or get trotted out whenever there is a perceived (or legitimate) lack of respect for Hip Hop's roots in black culture. But anyone who knows music also knows that there have ALWAYS been white / biracial artists in Hip Hop. The perception that rap is exclusively “a black thing” impacts people in different ways, and our subjects are no different, having thought about it to varying degrees:
Buckley: I'm not sure that being raised in the Adirondacks has necessarily had a huge impact on my style. I do reference the area semi-frequently in my lyrics because I enjoy taking ownership of / pride in where I was raised. The number one rule of Hip Hop has always been to be authentic and not front as something you're not. I suppose some people might think that growing up in the woods hurts rap credibility... I just see it as something that sets me apart and gives me a unique perspective that is virtually unrepresented in Hip Hop.
I have been lucky enough to receive a lot of support from people in the community. People my age really seem to enjoy it and that is definitely something that sustains me. What really keeps me going though is when I notice my own progress. There is almost no better feeling then when I can impress myself.
So the obvious question becomes, "Why a bunch of white rappers from the Adirondacks? Do they 'count'?" Well, why not? Boundaries tend to arise as marketing mechanisms, or get trotted out whenever there is a perceived (or legitimate) lack of respect for Hip Hop's roots in black culture. But anyone who knows music also knows that there have ALWAYS been white / biracial artists in Hip Hop. The perception that rap is exclusively “a black thing” impacts people in different ways, and our subjects are no different, having thought about it to varying degrees:
Buckley: I have an immense respect for the origins of rap. It's truly one of the biggest examples of voiceless people empowering themselves in history, and the movement continues to grow and remain relevant. So while it's true that I'm a white man from a rural area who was not raised under the exact same circumstances as the founders of Hip Hop, I can still appreciate the fuck out of the stories that are told through rap by people who were raised under those circumstances. But I think anyone that has the ability / desire to share their experiences or whatever is going on in their brain through the use of rap should be able to do so. I believe the more unique backgrounds and viewpoints there are in Hip Hop, the more rich and full it becomes as art form.
Surprenant: As far as race is concerned, at home it never seemed to be that much of an issue. There were even friends and fans who didn't listen or enjoy Hip Hop or rap universally, but would come out and support and show love because we were from their hometown and were doing something different than what people were used to seeing. However, once we relocated to Los Angeles, there was more of a reaction to our image of four goofy white dudes doing rap music…
Surprenant: As far as race is concerned, at home it never seemed to be that much of an issue. There were even friends and fans who didn't listen or enjoy Hip Hop or rap universally, but would come out and support and show love because we were from their hometown and were doing something different than what people were used to seeing. However, once we relocated to Los Angeles, there was more of a reaction to our image of four goofy white dudes doing rap music…
We got lots of "What are these guys doing here?" looks, but once we had an opportunity to perform most people who actually listened to Hip Hop for the love of the music, appreciated that we were having fun, and doing it in a way most other acts couldn't come close to.
McGill: Almost every average listener of rap that hears me – whether it’s live or a recording – mentions Eminem in some way or another; "Oh, like Eminem,” or, “So you think you’re the next Eminem.” That gets old. But like Em, I have a deep respect for the roots of Hip Hop. I’m well aware what I signed up for. The real Hip Hop heads know: dope is dope, whatever ya look like. Now I might be more relatable to a white listener cuz… I’m white! I talk about being white sometimes in my songs, cuz it’s kinda like the elephant in the room, and I want to confront it. But that doesn’t mean I cater to white audiences either.
Sullivan: When we performed in LA, the reception varied. At some venues that were used to more traditional “gangster rap” people would just stand around with their arms crossed. But if the crowd consisted of supporters or people with more open minds, the reception was very enthusiastic, positive and encouraging.
We never had any agenda as far as pushing specific causes or pushing back against society, as far as I can recall. If anything, a common thread in our music always touched on the idea that if you feel you have something to say, you should say it. If you have a dream, you should chase it. If you feel inclined to go against the grain, go for it.
Darring: I never thought to give a shit. I don’t, and never did see myself as a super hero. I was selfishly focusing on what it felt like to be inside the human body full of emotion, on fire.
McGill: Almost every average listener of rap that hears me – whether it’s live or a recording – mentions Eminem in some way or another; "Oh, like Eminem,” or, “So you think you’re the next Eminem.” That gets old. But like Em, I have a deep respect for the roots of Hip Hop. I’m well aware what I signed up for. The real Hip Hop heads know: dope is dope, whatever ya look like. Now I might be more relatable to a white listener cuz… I’m white! I talk about being white sometimes in my songs, cuz it’s kinda like the elephant in the room, and I want to confront it. But that doesn’t mean I cater to white audiences either.
Sullivan: When we performed in LA, the reception varied. At some venues that were used to more traditional “gangster rap” people would just stand around with their arms crossed. But if the crowd consisted of supporters or people with more open minds, the reception was very enthusiastic, positive and encouraging.
We never had any agenda as far as pushing specific causes or pushing back against society, as far as I can recall. If anything, a common thread in our music always touched on the idea that if you feel you have something to say, you should say it. If you have a dream, you should chase it. If you feel inclined to go against the grain, go for it.
Darring: I never thought to give a shit. I don’t, and never did see myself as a super hero. I was selfishly focusing on what it felt like to be inside the human body full of emotion, on fire.
Things have quieted down for Penny King Productions as of late. While it has been a few years since they have performed or released any new music as a group, PKP never officially broke up. The door is open for Sullivan, Hagmann, Darring, Surprenant, and McGill to make more music together. In the meantime, Cormac continues to pursue a career as a musician, having numerous solo releases under his belt. He continues to live and perform in the Los Angeles area, and he recently produced and performed on Sky Buck’s “ADK Gold” single. Since releasing his own solo project, Darring has gone on to own and operate a professional recording studio in Los Angeles. Sullivan is pursuing a career in film, Hagmann works as a realtor in the Tri-Lakes area, and Surprenant now lives and works in NYC. But the work they created as Penny Kings Productions lives on. It inspires, not just Buckley, but also others whose love of Hip Hop burns as brightly as an Adirondack fall day.
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Header art by T. Guzzio. Original photo via Penny King Productions.
CONNECT WITH TOM:
In addition to editing Prodigal's Chair, Tom is a teacher, father, husband, writer, artist, futbol fan and slightly maladjusted optimist. Tom lives in Beverly, Massachusetts with his wife and their aging (yet still ticking) cocker spaniel, Honey (who approves this message). He spent five years living and teaching in the Adirondacks. You can connect with him on Twitter @t_guzzio, or via email at [email protected].
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