Boxing fans may remember Maryum Ali, two decades ago, as the young child who was introduced to TV audiences with a proud prediction from her father, Muhammad: ”From this little girl is going to come the future generation.”
Former students at south suburban Homewood-Flossmoor High School, Class of `86, probably remember May May-her nickname since childhood-for her frequent performances at school talent shows, where her specialty was lip-synched imitations of stars such as Prince and Diana Ross.
But soon, pop music fans may come to know May May through her striking brand of positive-thinking rap, which throughout her debut album ”The Introduction” and the just-released single ”Life`s a Test” encourages her young, predominantly black audiences to stand up for themselves and for their heritage.
”I`m not a prejudiced person-I mean, I`m addressing my message so that anyone can listen to it; it`s not just for black people,” she says. ”I do mention certain things in it referring to black people, but it`s not the type of album where I`m ignoring other people, because that`s against my religion. ”But it`s important to remember that blacks are still being oppressed in certain instances. I know my father never turned his back on his race just because he got famous. And that`s what I mean by `the apple never ever falls far from the tree`: Don`t think I`m cocky and I can`t do this or that, because I remember what my father was. I`m not far from that.”
May May`s interest in rap started seven years ago after she moved to Los Angeles from Chicago, where she had spent most of her childhood with her maternal grandparents after her parents` marriage broke up. But she soon discovered that record companies were not receptive to a woman rapper who did not follow the violent, sexually explicit themes common in much commercially successful rap.
”When I first started, all female rappers were very masculine. So that made it hard when I first tried to get a deal,” she says. ”Later on, it seemed to be hard-believe it or not-because of who my father was, because a lot of execs and people who just weren`t into the music and really didn`t know good rap from bad rap felt, `If you`re not from the ghetto, you can`t rap.`
For May May, getting started in the business meant years of work writing and recording demo tapes, then making the rounds of record companies in search of a contract. Her preparation did not include any club work because of the unique nature of rap.
”A lot of rap ideas and styles and names get stolen,” she says, ”so rappers are kind of skeptical about performing live.”
Although her preparation also included stints as a standup comedian at spots such as L.A.`s Comedy Store, she says she ”never wanted to get on television because I don`t want to come across like a comedian turned rapper. Comedy is fun and I`m glad I have that extra talent, but I don`t mix `em. The only thing I`ll do is put some funny parts on my albums.”
The ”funny parts” on her debut album include tracks titled ”Alpoman”- filled with clever dog similes for unacceptable male behavior-and
”Stampede,” which humorously re-creates a record company flack`s sexist attempts to toughen up her sound.
”That`s what the album is; I`m just being me,” she says. ”I can sympathize with people who do some negative lyrics only because I don`t think they understand. They may not have had a happy home.”
As a rapper, she says, it`s important to concentrate not just on the words she writes but also on selecting the proper musical ”loops” that the lyrics are layered over. Her selections for ”The Introduction” show an eclectic array of ”samples,” ranging from the Bee Gees` ”You Should Be Dancing” (on ”Life`s a Test”) to George Clinton`s ”Atomic Dog” (on
”Alpoman”).
Perhaps the most effective use of sampling, however, comes on the album`s final cut, ”Ali,” a tribute to her father that mixes her rap with snippets of the champ`s famous ”rope-a-dope” rhymes from the `70s. The track, though performed by May May on a 50th birthday celebration for Ali televised last week by ABC, was not inspired by the TV special.
”This was written five years ago,” she says. ”The tribute was a coincidence, and I had to do it for him, and I didn`t care whether it was the first thing of mine that people saw because it was for him. It was a blessing that I could perform it for him while he`s alive.”
