As the boys were soaking it all up, Marga Man called the gathering to order and announced that there was an after-show party at his shop. The crowd expressed their happiness and they made their way out of the building. But it was difficult to set out as everyone wanted to talk to the boys.
Outside the venue there were even more people waiting for them. As they were signing autographs and talking to fans, Marga Man tried to persuade them to make their way to the car, but the boys were happy to continue signing. Their first gig had been a success and they wanted to lap up every minute of it.
As Kori and her two friends Lizette and Thara were telling the boys how great they were, they were interrupted by a hooded youth who was surrounded by his hooded friends.
‘Have you ladyboys got something to say?’ asked the hooded youth.
Ray smiled. ‘Hey man, we said everything we wanted to say back there on stage.’
‘Your raps are crap, you know that ain’t it?’ he said, flexing his fists.
‘Yeah, whatever,’ said Ray, thinking it was an old friend joking and trying to recognise what he could see of the face.
The youth continued. ‘You lot are serious non-starters, especially you,’ he said, looking at Ray. ‘You rap like your tongue’s in your arse, man. All you east London people rap shit, your beats are shit, your lyrics are shit, and your girls are shit.’
One of the guys standing behind the ringleader flicked a cigarette over, and it landed near Kori. ‘Put your foot on that, bitch.’
‘Who do you think you’re talking to?’ Kori shouted back.
‘I’m talking to a bitch, and you’re that bitch. Maybe you should stop following these dogs and get to know yourself.’
‘Don’t talk to me like that, you. Who are you anyway? Afraid of showing you face ’cause you’re so ugly?’
‘What you want is a slap, bitch.’
Ray moved forward until he was directly in front of the ringleader. ‘What’s yu problem?’ said Ray, suddenly realising that he was much smaller than the guy in front of him.
‘We ain’t got a problem, we’re just concerned environmentalist. We smell bullshit and we come to clean up.’
Tyrone and Prem began to manoeuvre themselves behind Ray. Marga Man shouldered his way over.
‘Leave it,’ said Marga Man.
‘Yeah boy, leave it,’ said the hooded youth.
‘OK, I’ll leave it, but just watch how you talk to my sister, guy,’ said Ray, then he turned away to join the others.
‘Hey, it’s his sister,’ the ringleader said, looking around at his followers. He turned to Ray. ‘I see where the problem lies now. Tell your sister to close her legs, her breath stinks.’
As soon as he heard that, Ray went for him. Filled with rage, he swung his punches fast and wild, with no game plan, and his opposition responded in kind. A couple of the others went for Tyrone and Prem. For a second Marga Man tried to separate Prem from his aggressor, but after being hit by both Prem and his enemy, he gave up. There was screaming and shouting, and when a couple of bystanders from the Positive Negatives camp got hit many of those bystanders joined in. It all happened very quickly – as did the arrival of several policemen and club security staff. On seeing the police the gang ran away, but Marga Man, the boys, and their friends and relatives made no attempt to run. Some were struggling to get off the ground whilst others tried to find belongings which had fallen from their pockets or been ripped from them during the commotion.
Ray was angriest. He shouted and cursed that the ringleader had got the better of him but that he wanted another shot. Marga Man and Kori were trying to calm him down, but his fury attracted the police, whose first instinct was to try to arrest him. The crowd came to his defence.
‘Leave him.’
‘You should be getting the others, they started it.’
‘That ain’t right, why don’t you go after that other lot?’
They soon convinced the police that there was more to the situation than met the eye. So the police then tried to get the story but all they got was, ‘There were some people who came and started trouble and a fight started.’
Realising that they weren’t getting anywhere, the police began to take names and addresses. Then Lizette noticed that one of the Positive Negatives fans was still down and unable to get up.
‘Look at him,’ she said, pointing. ‘He needs help.’
A police officer and Lizette went to help him. He was a white kid, about seventeen, with spiky brown hair and a camera around his neck.
‘Are you all right?’ said one of the officers.
‘Can’t you see he’s not?’ said Lizette, as she reached down to help him up. Seeing that he made no attempt to reach out to her she stretched down further and took his hand, but as she lifted it she screamed. His upstretched arm revealed blood coming from his side and running underneath him.
The kid looked up. His eyes rolled, focusing nowhere. ‘I think I’ve been stabbed,’ he said, panting. ‘In my side.’
‘Call an ambulance,’ shouted the officer to his colleagues.
They kept the knife victim where he was, but kept talking to him. After the ambulance had taken him away the police tried asking a few more questions, but no one knew the victim, and no one saw who had done it. The police could see that they were getting nowhere, the boys wanted to go, and more people began turning up wanting to know what had happened. The police arranged to see the band and Marga Man in the music shop the next day and they went off to file their report. Marga Man got his car, and with the help of a couple of volunteer drivers the band and their entourage were taken to the music shop.
As they drove past the front of the venue Ray thought about his early dream of starting a rap band and how he had struggled in school. He thought about all the time he had spent freestyling in the park and on the streets, and the hard work he, Tyrone and Prem had put in at the studio. And now, in less than a year, they had a number one hit record, they had recorded an album, and on the fascia of the biggest venue in east London were the words ‘TONIGHT, LIVE ON STAGE: POSITIVE NEGATIVES (SOLD OUT)’.
Back at the music shop there was no party, just talk and anger against the gang that had turned up at the stage door, and concern for the boy who had gone out that night to listen to beats and lyrics but ended up with a knife in his side.
It was early morning before Ray and Kori got home, and as soon as Ray opened the door their mother was up to see how the concert went.
‘Tell me then, what was it like?’
‘It was great,’ said Ray. ‘You should have come, you would have loved it.’
There was an unfamiliar touch of excitement in their mother’s voice. ‘So, was there a lot of people there or what?’
‘It was packed, Mum,’ said Ray, ‘the place was bubbling, plenty nice girls too, all come to see me.’
‘OK,’ said their mother, ‘so you had a good time then?’
‘It was good, Mum,’ said Kori. ‘There was some trouble after the concert, but the concert itself was really good.’
‘What kind of trouble?’ their mother asked, concerned.
Ray replied quickly before Kori said too much. ‘It was nothing, just some guys looking for trouble after the gig.’
‘What, was there fighting?’
‘Don’t worry, Mum,’ said Ray. ‘We’re all right, just tired.’
It took Ray ages before he was able to settle down that night. He had to lie in bed and go through the whole concert in his mind before he was able to slow down enough to allow himself to sleep. It seemed like he had only been asleep for a moment when his mobile phone rang. He reached out in the dark and answered it.
‘Yo, who’s this?’
‘It’s the Messenger.’
‘Who?’
‘The Messenger.’
‘Stop messing about, who is it?’
‘Listen, I’m not messing you about. I’ve come to tell you that you were lucky tonight but your luck will run out.’
‘Just watch out, great things come from the west. Goodnight, pussy face.’
The phone went dead. Ray looked into the darkness for a while and then he tried to sleep.
Chapter 11
The Mix Mag
Hip-hop reviews
Album: Collective Security
Artist: Positive Negatives
It may be British, but this has to be the hip-hop album of the year. The beats draw you in instantly and the lyrics are very, very phat indeed. Musically the whole thing is hard, tight and very danceable, and the production is polished to perfection but not reliant on studio gimmicks. First-time producer Marga Man has managed to create a virtual speaker’s corner that completely complements the deft rhymes. This is truly an amazing piece of writing, full of quick, clever rhymes and intelligent cultural observations performed with verbal gymnastics of the highest order. The single ‘War Cry’ is exceptional, but don’t take my word for it – take a look at the charts. Positive Negatives are young, gifted, and Bad, and it seems as if the whole world has agreed that they look like the first British rap band capable of doing it Stateside.
This is one of those rare collections of beats that encourages you to dance and think at the same time. Feel free to raise your expectations high. You will not be disappointed.
Stella Bella
Chapter 12
The Show Must Go On
Two completely different plain-clothed police officers turned up for the interview at the music shop the following day – a small quiet one, and a big loud one. The loud one, Detective Sergeant Horne, did all the talking, and from the outset he insisted on taking the wrong approach.
‘Right, understand this. We are not beat cops, we are not even your run of the mill CID, we’re from the Serious Crime Squad,’ he said, sniffing the air. ‘So we’re not bothered about you having a bit of weed. We don’t chase stolen phones or anything like that. We do serious stuff. And a stabbing is serious. So let’s cut to the chase. I’ll stop talking, and you tell me what happened last night.’
‘We told your brother already,’ Marga Man replied.
‘My brother?’ said the officer.
‘Your police friend,’ said Marga Man, ‘last night.’
‘Look, he’s my colleague, not my brother or my police friend.’ The officer cast an evil eye over Marga Man. ‘Now, let’s move on. Can’t you think of anything you could have done to provoke this gang?’
‘What are you saying?’ said Ray.
‘What I mean is, do you owe anybody any money, or does anybody owe you money that may not want to pay you back? Any unfinished business, or anything like that?’
‘We don’t know nothing,’ Ray said angrily. ‘We come out of the gig and these guys come talking rubbish and insulting our girls and things like that, and that’s how it happened. We don’t drink or smoke weed, and we don’t steal. We were minding our own business, you know what I’m saying? We is the victims here.’
‘We’re only here to help,’ said the second officer, trying to calm things down.
‘If you want to help, why are you talking to us like that?’ said Prem.
‘You gotta show some respect,’ said Tyrone. ‘Yeah, we’re the ones that get attacked but you’re treating us like the criminals. We’re just artists, you know what I’m saying, we never slash anyone, never rob anyone.’
‘But as I understand it, you struck the first blow,’ said the big officer.
Ray got even angrier. ‘Hey, man, if you know that you should know why those people were out for trouble, they came tooled up looking for blood.’
‘OK, just be cool,’ Marga Man said, bringing order to the room. He turned to the officers. ‘How’s de guy dat got stabbed?’
The quiet officer spoke. ‘It’s serious, but he’s going to pull through.’
‘OK, are you sure you don’t have anything else to tell us?’ asked D.S. Horne.
They all shook their heads.
‘Well, we may have more questions we would like to ask you, so don’t be surprised if you see us again. And let us know if you remember anything that you think is relevant to our enquiries.’
‘Goodbye,’ said Ray.
The officers said nothing else as they left the shop.
Kori had told their parents about the stabbing incident early that morning. Once again their father had said very little, but their mother was deeply concerned. Ray made it clear to her that there was no way that the band were going to let it get to them. This was the time they had worked towards. Tyrone had to convey a similar message to his parents, and they tried to get him to quit the band, but he wasn’t going to. But Prem planned to keep it a secret from his parents. He even made his sister and her friends promise not to say anything. But his parents found out when it made page three of their favourite tabloid newspaper, and the front page of The Newham Echo. To make things worse for all of them there was an item on Newstalk South East, the local TV news programme. It caused an almighty row in the Sharma household, which led to Mrs Sharma phoning Marga Man.
‘Mr Man, you are doing a good job with the boys, I think my son looks very good on TV, but why are they in all the papers? I mean we want them in the papers, but for good things, not for all these bad things.’
Marga Man was trying to serve customers as he replied. ‘Yes, Mrs Sharma, yu right, we want good tings, not bad tings. But trust me, de boys are cool, Prem is just nice, Mrs Sharma. It’s like dis, right, some mad guys come bigging up themselves, really I was there. Dem was trouble makers, yu know, terrorist, dem come terrorise and an innocent youth get cut. Dat’s how it go, Mrs Sharma, sometimes innocent people can just be in de wrong place at de wrong time.’
‘But I heard that there was a big riot.’
‘No ma’am, no riot, just some self-defence business.’
‘Are you sure, Mr Man?’
‘Yes, I was there. Prem was just looking after himself. There are some crazy people out there you know, Mrs Sharma.’
‘Yes, and that’s why I don’t like my son being out there.’
‘Don’t worry Mrs Sharma, I’m taking care of tings.’
‘I am worried, so you better take care of things.’
For the first time in years Ray’s mother prayed, and all his father could say was that ‘Badness will bring forth badness’, but Ray was as determined as ever to keep everything moving. He made sure that Prem and Tyrone continued to attend the centre, and he continued to write and work on new music. Marga Man had a lot to think about, and for the next couple of days, all he did was think. When he had thought, he made another trip to meet the band in the studio.
The moment the boys saw him, they could tell by the thoughtful look on his face that he was in meeting mode, and so once again they gathered around him in the control room.
Marga Man started by telling them what he had told Mrs Sharma, that maybe it was just troublemakers, but Ray wasn’t having it either.
‘I don’t buy that,’ Ray said, shaking his head. ‘Those guys came for us, I know it.’
‘We just don’t know,’ said Bunny. ‘But I’ve been getting strange phone calls here, someone rings and then talking some negative stuff.’
‘Me too,’ said Ray. ‘Last night someone called me and chat a whole heap a rubbish in me ears. That’s why I know something’s happening, someone’s stirring things up guy.’
Marga Man began searching his many pockets. ‘Yeah, we be getting dat in de shop too, but we have to stand firm, like a rock, we can’t let dem sabotage de work.’ He took a handful of business cards from his pocket. They were for a personal security company, and he handed one to each of the boys. ‘Today I talk wid these people, we can set up a contract wid dem. It works like dis: any time we have official public appearances they provide security, they back us up. Dis would mean at least two bodyguards, any time we need dem, day or night.’
‘Who’s gonna pay for this?’ asked Ray.
‘Good question,’ said Marga Man. ‘If we all agree, I say it should be paid for from de bank account, but from de expenses dat we receive from de record company, in other words from tour support money, and not royalties money.’
‘I think that’s cool,’ said Prem.
‘Me too,’ said Tyrone.
‘I don’t know,’ said Ray, looking quite unhappy. ‘That’s not going to save us if someone comes for us. I reckon we should be prepared to fight and that’s it. These bodyguard people, they can’t be with us all de time.’
‘No of course dem can’t,’ said Marga Man. ‘But it’s better dan nothing. When you guys are doing your ting on stage or dealing wid your fans, they will be looking out for yu.’
‘It’s better than nothing,’ said Prem.
‘True,’ said Ray, nodding thoughtfully.
‘OK,’ said Marga Man, ‘I’ll go ahead wid de deal. So remember, dis is for any public appearances, dat means gigs, signings, press conferences, and anyting dat we do dat de public has knowledge of. I will organise it but yu have cards just in case. At all other times we just have to be vigilant.’
Ray put his card away, then said, ‘I think we should take a trip to the hospital to see that kid that got stabbed.’
‘Yeah,’ said Prem. ‘The guy was a fan, a true fan.’
‘True,’ Tyrone said. ‘We shouldn’t just forget the guy.’
‘Dat’s a good idea. I’ll find out where he is,’ said Marga Man. ‘There’s two ways to do dis. We could just go there one visiting time as normal, unannounced, or we could let de press know. Dat way de people will know dat we care about our fans.’
Ray responded quickly. ‘No, I don’t think we should let anyone know. We do it for him, not for the press and not even for us.’
Gangsta Rap Page 10
