Wendy Day Group 82 Interview With Dorian (Episode 40)

My ducks, my swans, welcome to the pond. My ducks, my swans, welcome to the pond. My name is Dorian, your host at 82 Points of View with Dorian. Today we have a very, very special guest. If you've been following hip-hop for about the past 20, 30 years, you always hear these names, these voices that kind of surround the industry, and you never really know what they do. But then you dig and everybody has all these positive things to say around them.. And Wendy Day is, is, is one of those people. And I've been doing research for a while. I'm like, man, she's done a lot of stuff. So I reached out to her on Instagram, see if she would be down to be on the podcast. And she graciously accepted. So for all my artists, all my engineers, everybody, all my producers, this is going to be an outstanding episode. As you get to hear about, I'm pretty sure she'll have a lot of stories from back in the day coming all the way up to now. So we'd like to welcome to 82 Points of View, Ms. Wendy Day. How are you?

I am awesome. Thank you for asking. You doing okay?

I'm doing great. I'm doing great.

Yay.

The first question we asked everybody is, what's the worst job that you've ever had?

Wow. There have been a couple. Um, I think the worst job I ever had was when I was in high school. I worked at Wendy's. Ironically, my name is Wendy Day, and I had a manager whose philosophy was, if there's time to lean, there's time to clean. And I was being paid under minimum wage because I was 16, and there was just no downtime. It was just constant work, work, work, work, work, work, work. Clean the fryer, clean the grill, do this, do that. And I think I lasted about a week and a half, which is really funny because, like, I can really take a beating. I'm one of those people that can really take a lot, right? So it takes a lot to make me quit, and I was just like, this is not for me.

I worked at Wendy's when I was 17. That place is fucking gross. And like, when you see like those square patties come out and the nuggets in the front, I swear, yo, I didn't eat Wendy's for like 5 years.

That's funny. It didn't gross me out, although I used to like chili, and once I saw like how all the burned and overcooked burgers went into the chili, it made me say, you know what, I probably don't need to be eating that.

Yep, exactly, exactly. Yeah, I worked Arby's, Wendy's, and Chick-fil-A when I was in high school. Fast food.

Oh wow, which is like best?

Chick-fil-A, because my manager was awesome. Um, I was in high school, I was making—

right?

Yep, I was making $7.50, and he was just— he knew we weren't gonna stay there, and he was preparing us for college, for life. Yeah, and he would talk to my parents, like, he was just super cool. Like, even after I went to college, I would come back home Like I always went to Chick-fil-A to see him even 10 years later. He still remembers me like Dorian.

Whoop-de-whoop.

Out of all the jobs I had, he's probably the only manager that remembers me besides the people that probably fired me.

But that's so awesome.

Yeah. Yeah. So also another question that we ask is, what's your earliest childhood memory?

My earliest childhood memory is I was probably somewhere around 2 to 3 years old and it was wintertime. I grew up in the suburbs of Philadelphia. And there was a snowstorm. And my mom was taking my sister and I sledding, and my sister was older than I was. And maybe because I was the baby, my mom dressed me first, and I felt like Christmas Story, right, with the hood and the mittens and the thick padded onesie. And I was hot. I remember being warm inside the house, and I just decided I wasn't gonna wait. I went, I opened the front door, I went out down the steps, grabbed my sled, and I was headed down the driveway by myself. It like 2 to 3 years old.

Damn.

I remember, I remember my mom like chasing after me, like, you can't, like, you can't just go. But it's, it's ironic because it's kind of who I grew up into. Like, I really don't wait. I'm not good at waiting. So I just kind of like do whatever needs to get done and, and fuck the wait. Can I swear?

Yeah, absolutely.

Okay. And fuck the waiting. So, um, that's my early— my earliest childhood memory. My mom did catch a photo of it, but I was already like down the driveway at that point. And when she caught the photo, I'm standing there like, like I was not happy. I'm still not sweating.

Ralph, the, uh, Ralphie face. Yeah, funny. I was just talking to my lady about that because my daughter, she'll be 1 next, next week. And, um, her personality when she was in the womb and when she was in the bassinet, it's exact same way that she is now. Really? Yeah, it's like she's demanding, she wants stuff now, she wants to do things on her own. Like, she's very— yeah. And so, so when you said it, I was thinking like, it's amazing how children, when they're little, who they become, like the rest of their personality is, is already there.

Yes. You know, I've been really fortunate because I was adopted as a child. And I have an older sister and she was adopted as well. And we're not— we're adopted siblings. We're not biological siblings. And in January of this year, my biological sister found me. So the sister that shares the exact same mother and father as me found me through 23andMe. And we've been talking, we become really close since January. So I'm really getting to see like the difference between nature and nurture, because prior to that I had no— I had no siblings, I had no family. There was nobody out here that was of the same DNA makeup as me, but now there is, and she's pretty fucking awesome.

What have you noticed between nature and nurture between your biological system?

I've noticed that, um, we have very similar senses of humor.

Oh wow.

Yes, I've noticed that she's strong like I am. She's very no-nonsense. I'm really great at researching, she's really great at researching. Like, she was able to, um, almost stalk me to find me in order to reach out and say, hi, I'm your sister. And that's something that had, had the table been turned, I would have easily been able to do that. Like, I'm so CSI, and she is as well. And then of course there's little similarities, like in the way we look Um, she texted me when we first met and she said, you know, before we had seen each other, and she said, hey, is your baby toe sideways? And I didn't know what she meant by that. I thought she meant like sticking out sideways. And I'm like, no, what are you talking about? And she's like, oh, well, mine is. So I sent her a picture of my foot and then she sent me a picture of her foot and we have the same feet. Like, damn, the baby toe is just— it's not sticking out sideways, but it's turned like on its side. Yeah, that's what she meant by that. And I'm like, oh shit, we have the same feet. She noticed we have the same hands, um, we have the same skin tone. Like, you can really tell that she's my sister. It's really cool.

At what age did you find out that you were adopted?

I've always known.

Okay.

My whole life, I grew up knowing that I was adopted.

And, and was that a concerted effort from your parents? Did they want to be honest with you up front? Okay.

Yes, yes, yes. It was never something that, that was used to make me feel uncomfortable. The only thing about it that I can really remember is um, in grade school, maybe first grade, second grade, somewhere in there, I had to write, um, an essay on who my family was. And they kind of clowned me in school because I was adopted, because of course I raised my little hand and said, hey, I'm adopted, can I write about my adopted family? And the kids were kind of rough on me a little bit. And when I came home, my mom sat me down and she's like, okay, what is the difference between being adopted and being a biological child? And I'm like, I don't really know. And she's like, there is no difference. She's like, I couldn't possibly love you any more, any less than I do. The only difference is I didn't give birth to you. I chose you. And as a child, that meant a lot to me because it's like, oh, I wasn't thrust upon her. Like, she really chose me. And then as I've gotten older, I really kind of understand that because I know how difficult it must be to adopt a child. Like, you have to go— first of all, it's really expensive, and you have to go through all of these invasive interviews and home surprises from people making sure that you're fit for a child. So it, you know, in hindsight, it really means a lot to me, but I never felt different than, um, another kid in another family. Like, it was always just normal to me.

I didn't birth you, I chose you. That is a bar. Yeah, yeah, because I know people in my life that are adopted. It's— that's— man, yo, your mom, that's amazing that she was able to frame that.

Mom was so incredible. And I don't want to like take this interview, you know, left, but my mom was so fucking amazing. She was a stay-at-home mom, and I didn't really respect that as a kid because I'm very independent and very strong. I felt like my mom should be running a corporation, right? But she wasn't. She was a stay-at-home mom, and she was very subservient to my dad. Like, dinner was always on the table at 6 o'clock at night, and the kids were always dressed and quiet and clean. And the house, you know, she was a homemaker, so the house was always impeccably, you know, cared for. We had to pick up our toys. It was always clean. And I really didn't respect that very much. And then when I was 11 years old, my dad went out for gas one night and never came home. He just, he just vanished, right? I mean, we, we ended up seeing him again, but he was really kind of a coward. And instead of sitting my mom down and saying, I don't want to be in this relationship anymore, he just like booked, right? And she hadn't worked for, at that point, like maybe 15 or 20 years. She was a homemaker, so she had to go— and prior to that, she was a bookkeeper— so she had to go and brush up on her skills. And when he left, it left us like really, really, really poor. Because he was the breadwinner and the breadwinner was gone, you know, and he didn't give a fuck. So she had to take night classes at the local high school to brush up on her accounting skills while she cared for an older couple in the neighborhood. She took care of the older couple and made sure they ate and, you know, served their meals and cleaned their house. And this is how she worked during the day and then went to school at night. And she became like this really amazing, um, uh, person for me to look up to because she went from having what she felt was no skills to getting jobs so that she could— and she had two jobs so she could take care of my sister and I, all because my dad decided he just didn't want to be married to her anymore. Damn, it was really kind of cool.

That's a great way to frame it too. Do you think your dad leaving, that that had a profound impact on you as an entrepreneur?

Absolutely.

How so?

Um, it, it made me realize that I could never allow somebody else to take care of me, whether it was in a relationship or whether it was in a work situation. So I never depended upon like a salary or a boss to take care of me. I was never comfortable with that type of relationship. Um, it probably also fucked up every relationship I've ever had, you know, that since, since I've been an adult. But other than that, but yeah, it made me, it made me strong. Like, I saw my mom really like pull up her panties and get, you know, and, and take care of business. And it, it caused me to become that type of person, you know. I became very self-sufficient. I had to pick up the slack as a kid. You know, when he first left, it really devastated her. So emotionally, she was a basket case. So for like 3 or 4 months, I became the adult at 11, and she became the bawling child, like, you know, like she was really brokenhearted by this because he was the love of her life. She never dated after that. She never met anybody else after that. Like, for her, her kids became her life.

How did your sister— because, because she was older, so why do you— so why do you feel like you had to be the adult when you had an older sister in that situation?

Because I was, I was closer to my mom than my sister. My sister was very close to our grandmother, and I was very close to my mom. I was like, I, I— when I was a baby, I used to follow my mom around the house. Like, I was so much like mommy's little girl. And what's weird is when my dad left, like, I was just growing really close to him. So at that point, at, um, you know, 10 and 11 years old, I was becoming Daddy's little girl. So when he left, I was super devastated because he and I were close at that point.

Damn, that's, that's crazy.

You know what's amazing though, and, and again, I'm not trying to like hijack this, you know, I know you want to talk about the music industry, but it really like, it taught me so much about life and about people, and it especially it especially created me— like, I'm the least cowardly person I know, and I think it's a reaction of my dad being such a coward. Like, the fact that he couldn't say to my mom, 'I don't want to be in this relationship anymore,' and he just disappeared, to me is like unthinkable. And after my mom— when I was in this— I remember I was 11, so when I was in college, so I must have been 22, 21, 20, somewhere in there, my dad remarried and he did the exact same thing to his new wife that he did to my mom, only he did it even worse. Like, when he left my mom, he took the car, he cleaned out the bank account. When he left the new wife, not only did he take like everything from her But he went out and he took the refrigerator. He went out and bought her a cooler and put some food in the cooler. And when he moved out, he took all the furniture and he took the refrigerator. And that just like— that little one fact was like, are you serious? Like, like, you had to take the refrigerator too? It's just petty. So I am so opposite of that. Like, I'm so in your face about stuff. I'll tell you how I feel. I'll tell you what I think. Like, I can't even imagine just being mad at my partner and walking out of the house and not coming back. Like, for me, I talk everything out. I tell you how I feel and what I think, not to the point of being offensive, although people probably might think that, but I'm just so honest and so in your face with stuff because I didn't understand how I could grow up in that environment with a man that just had no balls.

Did you ever confront your dad about that and tell him about himself?

Yes, I did.

How'd that go?

I did. Um, it went pretty well. Like, when I was in college, he tried to become my friend, and then as I became like an adult, he really tried to be my friend. Like, he tried to be too cool, and I really tried to like forgive and, and make it work. And then when I was, um, I started Rap Coalition when I was 30, and I didn't make money for the first 6 years. And he really saw me struggling. And, um, he was— he would come up to me. I lived in New York City, he was still in Philly. He would come up to New York and we would have dinner together, and he would tell me, hey, bring along some of your friends. And I would bring along like some of my girlfriends, and then he would hit on them. And this happened twice, and I was like so disgusted by that that I was like, all right, this man has some like serious fucking issues. And then I remember when I was 32, and this is the last time I ever spoke to him, when I was 32 years old, he called me and I was on the phone with, um, Vinny from Naughty by Nature. And at that point in time, Vinny— Naughty by Nature was huge. It would be like the equivalent of today of like being on the phone with Drake. So I had to put, um, Vinny and Tretch on hold so that I could take this call from my dad because I thought maybe something was wrong. He had called me back to back, so I'm like, you know, what's up? And he's like, I've decided that I'm moving to Florida and you're moving with me, and you're gonna take a job at Sears selling Dish satellite systems. And it was so out of left field and so weird that I was like, wait, what? And then I got angry. I'm like, are you 'Are you fucking kidding me?' And I'm not somebody that would ever like swear at my parents because I'm very respectful, especially, you know, to older people. And he's like, 'Don't you talk to me like that.' I'm like, 'Don't you talk to me like that? What are you fucking nuts?' I'm like, 'Dude, I'm busy.' So I hung up on him. I come back to Vinnie and Trench, but by this point though, I'm like so shook by his demand that I'm like, 'Guys, I'm gonna need to call you back. I gotta go handle some family shit.' And then I called him back and he's like, if you don't do this, I'm gonna disown you. And I'm like, why would you disown me? Like, I'm just starting to become effective with this not-for-profit that I started. And he's like, yeah, but you're not making any money. I'm like, but it doesn't affect you. Like, I've never asked you for shit. You've never given me a dime. Why is that an issue? And he's like, well, I'm older than you and I can, I can help you plan your life. I'm like, dude, I'm in my early 30s. Like, like, fuck yourself. And it set off such a, um, a maelstrom between us. I called my mom and I'm like, yo, I'm about to like cut Dad off. She's like, she's like, are you sure you want to do that? Like, you only have one father, and what if like as you get older, like when you have kids, they won't have a grand— like, think this out, Wendy. And she was like, she was like in there pitching for him. And I called my sister and I'm like, yo, I'm about to set this off. I am not going to um, I'm not going to interact with Dad anymore, and I apologize in advance because I know that that's going to put pressure on you. And she's like, well, if you're cutting them off, I'm cutting them off. And I'm like, oh shit, okay. So sister and I, we cut him off and we just wouldn't respond. So maybe 3 or 4 years later, he sent my sister a letter and myself a letter separately disowning us, like just a list of why we were such bad daughters. And I remember reading it, and I'm very sensitive, right? So something like that would normally like really upset me, or like, oh my God, my dad is disowning me. And when I read it, like, it was so comical. Like, the stuff that he was complaining about— we didn't respect him, and he wasn't, uh, we didn't treat him like a father figure. Dude, like, what do you mean we didn't? We showed ultimate respect, especially for a pussy that like left home you know, and didn't tell her mom. Like, like, are you, are you serious? Like, really?

It's— we all have issues with our family members and with our parents, and we all get to the point— because I, I believe this— your parents have an emotional hold over you that nobody else does. They do. They, they know the buttons to push. They know how to make you cry. They know— they have an emotional hold over you no matter how tough, how strong you are that nobody else does. When, and when they do something and you don't have the normal reaction that you usually did, that is— I don't even know what the word is because that's not fed up. You're like, I'm just so over you. Like, I usually— this would make me emotional. Now I'm not even— yo, fuck you, for real, right? Right.

That's exactly how it was. I was like, I was like, I'm done. But what's really cool is that even, even as I've gotten older, like, you know, my mom's voice always stayed in my head. Like, when I grow up, will I, will I be sad? Like, when I'm 60, will I miss him? And there is not one day, and I never had kids, so maybe if I had kids it would be different, but there is never one day where I've thought, did I do the right thing? Like, it's always felt right. And he died in either 1999 or 2000. I can't really remember. I remember my mom calling me to tell me that he passed, and very sadly, like, it didn't, it didn't impact me. You know, certainly not the way I felt when she passed away, you know. But with him, it was like, oh, that's a shame. And I figured, well, if I regret it, now is when I'm going to regret it because he's not there for me to go and fix it. Yeah, but there's never been a time like— he was just, he was just a douchebag, man.

That's, that's really sad. Yeah. And it— but it, but it lays the foundation for who you are. And you had a chance to experience that stuff because the music industry is full of people people like that, right, who are inconsistent and want to blame you for their mistakes and stuff like that. So you kind of got trial by fire. You were chosen to get trial by fire. So everything happens for a reason.

Or maybe I'm just repeating my childhood over and over and over until I get it right. Maybe it's that.

Maybe, maybe. So growing up in Philadelphia at that time, so, okay, okay. So were you a Dr. J fan?

I was not. Um, when I grew up in Philly, I was not sports-oriented at all.

Okay.

The great thing about the neighborhood where I grew up is, um, it was a Jewish neighborhood. We were Christian. It was a wealthy neighborhood. We were poor, especially once my dad left. We were like super poor. But even before my dad left, we were not wealthy. We were a family of 4 living on one salary, and he worked for the post office. So he wasn't, you know, he wasn't super wealthy, but my parents chose our neighborhood for the school system. They— and that was again my mom. My mom was always very big on education and chose, um, Cheltenham, Pennsylvania because it had such an amazing school system. So I got a really great education, but I was always other. And the reason I'm telling you this is because I learned at a really early age to become comfortable being the only one. So as I'm working with rappers, I'm very comfortable being the only white person in the room, or the only female in the room, or the only older person in the room. Like, I'm very comfortable being other.

So when you say— so the Jewish kids made you feel like an other because— oh yeah, Christian.

Oh yeah.

How's— I've never heard that before.

Um, mostly because they all went to, um, they went to school, Hebrew school together, so— and I didn't go to Hebrew school, so it was like a little clique at school of the kids that all went to Hebrew school together, kind of clicked up. And in our, in our area, it's not like we wore a sign that said I'm Jewish or I'm not, but somehow everybody kind of knew.

Yeah, yeah. Your last name.

And yeah, yeah, last name, everything.

Yep. So because of that, did you— were you ever bullied or ostracized?

No.

Okay.

No, no. I was always very much kind of who I am today. I was a little bit more quiet. I was much more shy than I am today. And I would kind of sort of watch everything before giving my opinion. Now I'm a little quicker to give my opinion, but that's only because time has more value to me today. As I've gotten older, time has a lot of value. So as a kid, I would kind of just watch what people did and then I'd form an opinion. I was also the kid that would stand up to the bullies. I remember when I was in 6th grade, um, Danny DiMatteo was beating up one of the kids How about, how about that for a memory? Call his ass out, your name or mine. But I remember, and he's gonna sue me now, I remember he was beating up one of the kids in special ed, and I just saw a flash of light and I just went at him. And I just remember somebody pulling me off of him. I was sitting on top of him, and I was skinny at the time, right? I was sitting on top of him just punching him, like wailing on him. And this was at recess, and somebody pulled me off, and that's kind of when like I came to, and I'm like, what happened? And the, um, the people around me were like, yo, he was, he was picking on dude, and you just start like, you tackled him and just started wailing on him. So that was like my first fight. I beat up Danny DiMatteo when I was 10, 9 years old.

I tell people all the time about bullying because like all this stuff going on now, like they're calling it bullying, like some of it is So some of it is just people getting talked about. They don't have a rebuttal. But one thing that like we didn't tolerate at all is when people picked on kids who had special needs, right? Like, like that's some bullshit. Like you're being a punk-ass bitch.

Yeah.

So we— that never happened at my school. Like if somebody even said something to them like, yo, you about to get your ass whooped for real. Yeah.

I mean, I whooped his ass. You know, the funny thing is I don't know whatever happened to him, but I'm guessing that he's probably like a Wall Street or who's a billionaire right now. Fuck that bitch. The joke's on me.

So going to like living in a Jewish neighborhood, being a, being a, being a Christian, were there any Black kids around at all?

Yes, um, there is an area called Lamont. It still exists today. So there was a large table of people of color when I was in high school. I was never really somebody that saw color. Um, I hate saying that though because it sounds so offensive, like, what do you mean you don't see color? I, I was somebody that didn't really care if somebody was Black or white. Um, my grandmother, who I mentioned my sister was really close to, she had a card and gift shop in West Philadelphia, and her card and gift shop was in the hood— I mean the hood hood— when I was a kid. And she was an older white lady, and she didn't really— I mean, she was she was racist, but— and she certainly was racist by today's standards— but she wasn't distrustful or hateful of people of color. She was just different in that neighborhood and noticed the differences. So I was around people of color from a young age, and it, it, it wasn't— it wasn't weird or not weird to me. It just was. You know, my best friend in grade school was Jaylen Warren, and we're still friends today, and she's African American, and she's actually my oldest and dearest friend. We don't talk a lot anymore because our lives are very different. She's a librarian, and, well, I work with rappers, um, so our lives are very, very different. But Christmas and birthdays, we're always in contact with each other, mostly her. She's got a great— she's got a great memory, and she remembers to like send Christmas cards and birthday cards and emails and stuff. And I'm cool with her daughter. Her daughter's an adult now, and I'm cool with her daughter.

So when did you find rap? Because it doesn't— you don't seem like the target demo at that time for rap to find you. Because, because for all my— for all the younger— for my younger audience, they think everything is on the internet. Like, there was no internet. So there was no internet.

Um, this was 1980. I was 18 years old. I went to a rock concert at University of Pennsylvania, and the opening act was Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, and that was it. I was in love. The energy and the passion in the music, and the music itself, that was it. Like, I loved it. I, I ended up making friends with DJs at the local record store, as if you could make friends with people on Spotify today. That's kind of, you know, curator, that's kind of the equivalent. But I made friends with the DJs, so when the mixtapes would come from New York— and back then the tapes were cassette tapes and they were live recordings of the clubs of that Friday and Saturday night— so the following Friday I would go to the, to the record store when all the new music dropped— excuse me, Tuesday, when all the new music dropped, because it drops on Friday now, but back then it was Tuesdays. And it was Tuesday the following week, right? So 10 days would have passed, and I was buying the cassette tapes from the clubs that were happening in New York City. And that went on until about 1986 when I went to New York for a weekend and I heard the Mr. Magic Marley Marl show. And I fell in love with their radio show and moved to New York a week later. I went back to Philly, quit my job, and moved to New York and said, "I'm here!" And then I did lots of different things. I sold advertising in magazines. I moved to Montreal for 3 years and, um, helped build a liquor company in Montreal. And then I came back to New York, and that's when I started Rap Coalition. That was 1992.

92.

So I was a fan for 12 years before I started the company.

So when you got to college, you were all hip-hop?

Yes.

And how— so what college did you, did you go to?

Um, my undergraduate is Moore College of Art. I was a graphic designer. I hated it. I stuck with it though for the degree because I knew I was going to go on and get an MBA and do something in the world to make money. At that point in my life because I had grown up, you know, relatively poor, I always knew that I wanted to make money. And my philosophy was back then, who— he who has the most toys when they die wins. So I wanted to buy things, I wanted to buy houses and cars, and I wanted to live life. I wanted to travel, I wanted to go everywhere. I wanted to have, you know, um, lots of shoes and lots of clothes and you know, just lots of stuff. And something changed in me, um, in, in '92, and I'm not exactly sure what it was. It was probably a culmination of things. But when I came back from Montreal, I no longer had that drive to make a shit ton of money. And maybe it's because I, I did— I made a lot of money. And when I came back, for the first time in my life, I was unemployed.. And I'm like, okay, now what? And I had a master's degree in African American Studies. I got the MBA in marketing. And so I had two master's degrees and an undergrad degree. And I wanted to do something to help people of color. But I also wanted to work with rappers to help give back some of the happiness that their music gave to me. And lo and behold, I started Rap Coalition. And started pulling rappers out of bad deals and then helping— because I'd seen so many bad deals, I was able to help some rappers with leverage get into some good deals. So I played a role in the, um, original Master P deal at Priority Records. I went on to do Twista's joint venture with Atlantic Records. I did the Cash Money deal, which is probably what I'm most well known for. I helped Eminem get on and negotiate his deal at Interscope, well, through, you know, through Dr. Dre at Interscope. David Banner's deal at Universal. So I've done a lot of deals. The thing that drove all of my deals, my goal was never to just put an artist on at a record label because I knew how fucked up it would be if they weren't a priority. So I made sure that all of the deals I did, the artists were priorities. And that the deals had enough leverage, meaning the artist had enough in their favor to make the major label take them seriously.

I want to provide more, more context for people because I feel like the times that we're in right now, I feel like that there's an unveiling of white supremacy, and I feel like a lot of people are taking accountability. What makes a white woman from Philadelphia in the '80s want to get a master's degree in African American Studies? And what did you learn about your white supremacy privilege?

Yeah.

And how that affects you going, going forward?

Absolutely. Um, and it was more hip-hop that taught me than my degree in AFAM Studies. And understand that when I got my degree, um, I chose Temple because it was an Afrocentric program. So I didn't just study African American studies. I studied African American studies from, you know, Dr. Malefe Asante's point of view, you know, where Africa is the cradle of the universe. So I was able to get an education in realism and in honesty, and I learned to research and to consider the sources. In everything that I learned. And I'm not going to take you down this whole road because I, you know, it's— that's not why we're here. But I will tell you that because I am a white person and because I understand the Black struggle, it has put me in a lot of situations where I hear what people say about people that don't look like them behind their backs, on both sides, not just you know, not just white folk but Black folk as well. And we have a tremendous race problem in this country, and it has not gotten better. I was so naive that I thought hip-hop was going to change the world. I thought because people that looked like me would hear the lyrics and understand that, you know, cops use excessive force on Black people more than they do on white people, that if a Black man and a white man are arrested for the exact same crime, the Black man's gonna do more time and in a shittier prison than the white guy, right? Or white woman. And it didn't— that didn't happen.

What happened instead?

I don't exactly know, because here we are in 2020 and cops are still choking out black men and killing them. So, you know, hip-hop didn't change the way people think. And even though there's a majority of white listeners to the music, it didn't really change the world like I thought that it would. Um, I don't know if it made it worse. I can't say whether it's worse, but I do know that it's not better, you know, by any means.

Definitely agree with that. So being a white hip-hop fan in the '80s, I think people don't realize, like, hip-hop, hip-hop wasn't big like how it is now. And so it was, it was even frowned upon in the Black community. So how was it being a white hip-hop fan in white circles? Like, did you have any other white friends that were listening to hip-hop in the '80s? Was it kind of a secret?

No, no, no, no. But because I had grown up being the outsider, I wasn't thrown by being the outsider in, in hip-hop, you know. Um, even as it— like, like, I have two hip-hop worlds. I have the hip-hop world as a fan, and then I have the hip-hop world as an insider where I'm an advocate and I've actually gotten to make some change, right? But my whole career, people doubted me, they downplayed me, because not only am I white, but I'm female. Yeah. And in hip-hop, you know, it's very male-dominated and it's very people of color dominated. Back then it was, it was majority Black, but it was also Latino. There was a very large Latino, um, portion of population in our community, in the hip-hop community, and that's changed a lot. In today's world, it's like most hip-hop fans are white. Like, a large majority of rap music fans are white kids. And, you know, not trying to be funny, but a large majority of American population are white kids, so that's not weird. Like, people of color are really— or Black folk are really only 13% of the population, you know, and we can't, we can't sustain hip-hop if we only sell to Black folk and people of color, right?

Do you think, and I know we're jumping ahead a little bit, but do you think that that is why record labels move the way that they do? Because you being around hip-hop from the '80s and from the '90s it was a very, very Black art form. Like, like, you always had the dancing, you always had the dudes that was taking advantage of being coons, but you had Ice Cube, you had Public Enemy, you had Nas, you had Jay, you had—

you gotta mention X Clan.

Excellent. Exactly. Like, so do you think that that is what record labels are thinking about? It's like, now we have to appeal to the whites, to the white fan base, and they have to that's the only way that we're going to sustain. Do you think that's why everybody keeps talking about SoundCloud rappers? I don't have a problem with them, but do you think— but do you think that's why they get pushed to the forefront?

Um, I think that— I don't think it's quite that sinister. And let me preface that— preface it by saying I am a conspiracy theorist, so there is a conspiracy, I will find it. But in this case, I can't necessarily say that it's a conspiracy because it's more about capitalism than about race. It's more about making money than it is about race. And where we fucked up in the music industry— we as a community fucked up in the music industry— is we allowed white folks, even myself, to believe that we know as much about hip-hop as people of color. So now there are less people at the labels that are Black and Latino that have power because there's more people like myself that are white that understand hip-hop. So back in the day, like back in the '90s, if you had an urban music department, it was almost always completely staffed by people of color. There would be white folks there too. I don't mean to imply that it was a Black Black business running a Black art form. It was not by any means, but there were more people of color in positions of power than there are today. And I think the reason for that is that there are more white folk running labels that grew up listening to hip-hop that think that they get it, even though they don't. They think that they get it, and that's a huge problem because the folks that really run the music industry are older white men that are in the 32nd or the 54th floor of a tower building in New York City, you know, and, and a sprinkling in LA. And that's who is controlling what's happening in hip-hop. It's not really from the streets. They're not on the streets. That's why SoundCloud rap blew up so big, because these guys could sit in their offices on the 30-something floor and discover rappers. And it's not that they were giving opportunity to people that weren't deserving, they were giving opportunity to people that were popular. And there was a mind state— and if you could argue whether it's accurate or not— there's a mind state that says if there's a lot of people that are all listening to one thing, then that one thing must be good. Right? So there was— they were signing the most popular artists on these different DSP platforms and saying, okay, so, you know, this guy's popular, let's give him a record deal. You know, 6ix9ine is popular, let's sign him. Lil Pump is popular, let's sign him. It wasn't about talent the way it was in the '90s where you had to really you had to really perfect your craft because by the time you got signed to a label or signed to a production company, you would already put out a lot of your stuff, you know, as mixtapes or independently. So by the time you got signed, you had already been rapping for anywhere from 5 to 10 years. Today you could be rapping for 5 to 10 minutes up— and I'm not joking— upload something onto SoundCloud and just be a really clever marketer or a troll and, and get a lot of attention. And the labels will think, oh, this guy's got 200,000 real views and his engagement is 30% or 40% of his viewership. And all of a sudden now you've got record labels calling you and talking to you, and it's really not about talent, it's about, it's about popularity.

I think we're in a transitional period too. I think we are in this apex of social media is at its peak. Like, like we thought social media was a, was a trend. When Facebook came out, I was in college and it was made for us. And so we just thought that it was just like for a way for us to communicate with all of our friends and stuff. Facebook's the number one company in the world when it, when it comes to media. And then you got Twitter, got Instagram, which owned by Facebook. YouTube. Social media is media now. Technology has caught up with DAWs and mics, and everybody can make really good music at home. And then you have people who are learning about marketing, you have people who are learning about Facebook ads, Instagram ads. We're in this transitional period where we're trying to figure all this shit out. I think eventually, after all this gets done, I think we're going to have a lot of rappers who are in their 30s who are in their 40s who are just starting out, they're going to get reintroduced. And I think all that— all these younger kids, it's really going to be divided up because there's still this cloud. And maybe you, you can chime in on this. Like, I think everybody still kind of groups rap together, but I think when Jay-Z dropped 444, it was like, yo, that's, that's older rap, you know what I mean? It's like older rock, like classic rock. Like, we are finally— yeah, exactly. Yep. And we're finally at that point where 50-year-olds and 60-year-olds and 70-year-olds are going to be listening to rap. Like, you're going to be listening to rap for— to the— until the day you die. Yeah. And I think that's really going to happen. Do you think that's going to be the future of the industry, or do you think something different?

I think the future of the industry is it's going to keep going back independent, because I think that artists are becoming smarter and they're realizing that there's importance in what they're doing and what they're thinking and what they're saying, and that they can go direct to consumer. So I think that's a trend. I also think we're not quite done with the trolling. And here's what I mean by that. Like, like, you and I have, have mutual respect for each other, but if we sat here and created an argument, like faked it, it would go viral. It would go viral. We would become so popular. The problem is I don't see value in that popularity, whereas the new generation seems to see value in recognition, whether it's negative or positive. And I'm a little old school. Like, if, if, if I'm gonna go viral, I want to be— I want to go viral for doing something positive and doing something to help you, or, or having a conversation where we solve world peace or we end racism. Like, to me, that has value. Just people knowing that I'm the white chick that argued with the black guy, and that's what we become. Like, to me, that— no, that's not acceptable. Like, I don't ever want to become that, you know? And I think that this generation sees value in fame and popularity. I mean, shit, we have a president who was elected because he was famous.

Exactly.

Really, it— he's not qualified, you know? Even if you love him to death, you cannot say this man was ever qualified to be president. You can say that he cut out a lot of the bullshit. You can say he's anti-politician. You can say he's a businessman and you wanted that in office, but you cannot say he was adequately trained to run a country, right? Yeah, we put so much value in fame and popularity, and I don't think that that's going to go away anytime soon. But I do know that in life I've been alive long enough to know that life swings like a pendulum. So it goes to one extreme and then it comes back to the other. So at some point we will go from wanting to be super famous to being super private and super quiet. And I'm just kind of waiting for it to swing back there, you know, because I kind of like that. I'm an introvert. So I, I think that what's going to change in music— there will always be major labels as long as there's a need for money. And most artists, not just rappers, but most musicians don't have money. And most musicians have— and rappers, you know, all types of musicians have a mistaken understanding that the music industry puts you on and takes care of you and worships you. And until artists finally realize that it's a pimp-hoe game and they're the hoe, they're not the pimp. Until they realize that, it's going to be very hard for them to do what's necessary for themselves to have control and ownership in the music industry. But there is a large— there is a large group of people that are going towards that, more so now than ever.

That's such a good point, and it's amazing that you're able to frame that and give it to our audience in that way. When in the '80s, like, when— and when you actually started Rap Coalition, like, you worked with some of the most prideful and Black— like, some of the— with Black people, we don't have a lot of entrepreneurs that we can look up to, right? It's like Robert Johnson, Oprah, Robert Smith. It's about it. Then it goes Jay-Z, Puffy, Master P, Cash Money. And like, you were able to work with them. So at that time, when you were working with Master P and you were getting his deal. What was different from him than every other artist who you're working with? Like, yo, I'ma sign a label there and they're gonna save me. Like, what was, what was his deal?

His marketing. He did not— he was never looking to sign a deal. He always knew that he was going to start his own company. He was going to be the outsider or the outlier. Um, he always came from that point of view. He never wanted to be an artist signed to a label. That, as far as I know, that was never even— like, never even entered into his mind. And maybe because he was in Richmond, California instead of Brooklyn, New York, you know, one of the downsides for me being in New York was we were right where the labels were. So everybody was kind of one or two steps away from somebody that worked at a record label. Like, somebody knew somebody who knew somebody that worked for Sony or Def Jam or or, you know, whatever, one of the labels. Whereas in Richmond, California, it wasn't really like that. So you had, um, E-40 and you had, um, Too Short. Too Short. Thank you. I almost said Bitch. I couldn't, um, but Too Short. And they were the icons. They were who people looked up to, and they were the system that was in place that you followed in order to start start your career. And thank God for them, you know, because when, when we did Master P's deal, it wasn't like, it wasn't like the head of Priority was so advanced that he saw the value. It's that he saw it was a fad and wanted to hit a lick. He just wanted to make as much money as he could off of what he thought was a fad. So when he allowed P to retain the masters, it wasn't because he was trying to help him or look out for him or anything other than he didn't see the benefit, so he didn't keep the masters.

So when— so it's, it's well known that P paid $25,000 to talk to Michael Jackson's lawyer. Was that before or after he met you?

Before.

Okay, so so the lawyer was already in place when I came on board. And, and how did they find you, and what was your role in that?

Um, they found me— I had pulled a group off of Island Records, um, called the Chameleons. And the— I hope I get this right— the cousin of the Chameleons manager was the guy that was running Master P's label at the time. And he put me in touch with Master P's label because they were concerned. At the time, E-40 and his manager were negotiating the deal at Priority, and E-40 was signed to Priority. So there was some concern that maybe E-40 and his manager— I think his name was John— that he— not E-40, excuse me, um Um, oh God, I'm having a brain fart. Oh, that's terrible.

That's what happened. You've been doing it for 30 years.

That's what— that's what it is. They were afraid— shit. And when he hears this interview, he could be pissed. It's gonna be ugly being me. Um, and he's such a great producer too. I can't believe I can't think of his fucking name. Anyway, so he and his manager were negotiating this deal, and there was concern from P's camp that maybe they were serving them up. Like, maybe the deal wasn't the best deal possible. He was doing something to enhance himself at, um, Priority, and that wasn't the case at all. But that's what they were concerned about. So they said, okay, you know what, let's, um, let's bring in somebody that has no relationship with Priority to help us move forward so that if there is any bullshit going on you know, we'll find out immediately. And, um, there was no bullshit going on. It was fine. They did an amazing deal for Master P. Everything that they were offering was amazing. Um, I had just read a book, um, an autobiography of Lucille Ball, that talked about how she owned all the rights to her, um, television masters.

Really?

I suggested that we own the masters, and the rest is history.

Hold up, I didn't know that Lucy owned that. I thought Desi owned all that.

Lucy. Damn, Desi was the boy toy and she still died broke. I don't know if she died broke. I didn't really pay attention to her after, after the '90s. I didn't really pay too much attention to what was going on with her, but I learned from Desilu Studios that if you create the, the— I'm gonna put it in terms of music, but of course they had a film studio. But if you record everything yourself and you own the masters and you go to a, a company that has distribution, you're gonna get more control because you've already taken the risk and spent the money.

E.A.

Ski, his name was E.A. Ski, and I'm disgusted that I couldn't remember his name. Because he's so fucking amazing, both as a person and as a producer.

So in a roundabout way, Master P has I Love Lucy to thank for him owning his masters. That's crazy. That's fucking crazy. That's— and but that's what happens when you seek information, and that's what happens when you bring in people from different backgrounds, because them niggas wasn't about to read a Lucille Ball autobiography.

Not a million years. And I don't even know why I was. Like, you know what I mean? Like, I'm one of those people, like, when I was a kid, I would read the back of the cereal box while I was eating. I just always loved to read. And my parents always instilled in my sister and I, like, like, reading and learning, that was really important, right? And, um, we would go to the bookstore, like, during the summer when school was out, we would go to the bookstore once a month and we'd be allowed to choose a book. And it's the equivalent of like other kids going to a toy store and being allowed to choose a toy and being like, "Oh, I got to choose a toy!" For us, it was a book. And we were the same way, like, "Oh, I got to choose a book!" Like, it was really a big deal. Like, I had a library card when I was old enough to like get on my bike and ride it to the local library. We were always encouraged to read and learn and For us, it was like we loved a good story. Like, we wanted to read about what were other people doing in other places. And for me, I can't speak for my sister, but for me, it became a love of nonfiction. And even today, I'm really too busy to read as much as I used to. But there was a point at the height of me building my career, I was reading a book a week. It's what I used to do to like, you know how when you lay down at night and you go, you try to sleep your mind is still going. Well, I would have to— like, TV didn't do it for me. The TV would be on and I'd still be thinking. Yeah, but if I pulled out a book, I would have to— when I read, it took not only reading the actual words but like interpreting them and digesting them in my head. It would stop my mind from, from, you know, whirling. So I soon learned that, oh, if I read for like an hour before I fall asleep, I'll be able to sleep really well. So I started just reading before I went to bed, and then it became, okay, I'm taking the subway for 40 minutes into the city, let me read while I'm on the subway. And okay, I'm in line at the post office or the bank, let me read. This is all before the internet, right? Let me read. And then when I first got an iPad— I got an iPad when they first came out, so that was like, what, 2008 or '09? And when I realized that I could put books on an iPad or my iPhone, like, dude, I probably have 10,000 books, you know, just right here.

Crazy. And that's— I was just about to say, like, I'm the exact same way. Like, when I go to bed, I'm reading, I'm on Wikipedia. Like, it— that puts me to sleep more so than anything else. And you, you, you might— some nights you might not be able to fall asleep. So you might end up reading for 2 hours and you discover some new shit, like, damn, I ain't realize— let me, let me try that tomorrow. So I do this.

Yeah. And then sometimes you get sucked into that rabbit hole of the internet, so you're like falling asleep but you're fighting it because you're so interested in what you're reading that you don't want to go to sleep. Yeah, you know, but I've learned so much, like, from other industries. I've learned from, you know, just watching like Narcos and the drug industry. I've learned to bring things into music. I've learned from the film industry things to bring into music. The 48 Laws of Power I applied to music. Like, I learned so much outside of music. The tech industry right now is what the music industry was in the '90s, you know. It's— so I've learned so much from other areas that it's not weird that I would read a book on Lucille Ball and apply it. You know, I read books on how to build incubators and accelerators in the tech industry, and now I'm building an incubator for rappers, bringing that concept into the music industry.

I was just, I was just about to say that because I'm really, really into, into tech business. Why, why do you say the tech industry now is like rap in the '90s?

Okay, um, perfect example. Um, Um, who runs Facebook?

Zuckerberg, right?

Okay. Um, who runs General Electric? You're not going to know that, are you?

No, actually, I, I don't, I don't know his name.

So you see my point? So you know who runs— the tech companies are run by rock stars now.

Yeah, they are.

Music, the labels, we all know who ran the labels in the '90s. Like, everybody would, would say, oh, Andre Harrell, oh, Puffy, Jay-Z, you know, uh Russell Simmons, Lior Cohen. Like, the world knew who the rock stars were in the music industry, and I don't mean the actual artists, I mean the people behind the scenes. And that's how we are today. We know who Elon Musk is, we know who Jeff Bezos is, you know, we know who Zuckerberg is, we, we know these guys, you know. And in addition to that, it's got the money the way the music industry did. Like Back in the '90s, we would throw a party for an artist's record release, right? And they were called records back then. So they'd have a record release party and the label would spend $100,000, $200,000, $300,000. It's like that today in tech. When tech announces a new, a new product coming out, they'll hire Snoop Dogg to come perform. They'll hire, you know, whoever, Jay-Z, to come and perform. They'll have they'll have a, uh, um, they'll have an event for all of their employees, like some sort of retreat, and they'll spend $2 million on the retreat. That's exactly what the music industry used to be. You know, all the folks from Atlantic Records would meet in California during the Grammy week and have, you know, a company-wide party, and all the artists would perform, and they'd spend a million dollars to do that. They'd spend half a million on the Grammy party for one night. That's the way tech is today. That's the way the music industry used to be. That's why I make the parallels between the two.

With, with all this capital out there and your experience, so you got your master's in African American studies, you understand the plight of Black people, you, and you are in hip-hop, so you have seen the pimp-hoe relationship of artists getting robbed.

Yes.

What can artists do right now to get their hands in on tech in some capacity? Like, because, because independent thing is about to rise. What should independent artists be doing right now to make sure that they don't miss this, this tech bubble?

And I hate to think that it's a bubble because a bubble implies it's going to burst. So let me just call this tech run instead.

Okay.

And the best thing they can do is learn the products, learn who's up and coming, because the reality is the guys that are in tech today that are running tech, especially the guys that are funding tech, which are the ones that made money a long time ago and are just, are just funding the new companies now, like the Andreessens and the Horowitzes and other names, but those guys—

Y Combinator, not them.

Yes, thank you. Um, those guys. They all grew up on hip-hop, so they're fans. So they know Nas lyrics, they know Biggie lyrics, they know Jay-Z lyrics, they know NWA lyrics. So they come from a place just like I do where they gave a fuck and possibly still do give a fuck about hip-hop. So if you're a rap artist today, you're in is the fact that these guys respect the music that you make and they love the people that came before you. So if you are willing to bring your fame to their product, you can get in on a ground floor opportunity. They may not be able to pay you, but if they pay you in stock and they become the next Facebook or the next Snap or the next Instagram or the next Twitter or the next PayPal or the next eBay, you're going to be able to live a really nice life off of the money that your shares are going to be worth if you're willing to do something for the perception of free. And it's not necessarily free, it's in exchange for some equity in their company. But sometimes in hip-hop we don't see the value. Like, oh, I'm not getting a check, nah, nah, I'm not with that. You've got to be a little bit more foresightful, and you've got to understand tech enough to know which companies are gonna blow and what matters to humanity to see, okay, this might become bigger than life, or here's a company that probably won't because they don't offer something that the majority of humanity has to have.

I think most people just think too small, and then specifically in hip-hop, like you said, we can only see what's in front of us because a lot of people come from disenfranchised backgrounds. Yeah. So if that check ain't real Like, if it— if I can't spend it right now, don't tell me about no stock or no equity stake. I don't understand that. Like, even I'll give another example, like with the coronavirus. Like, the moment that people were, were kind of free, like a video went viral where it was an all-Black community and everybody was outside, they were in the barbecue. Like, yo, why are they all outside? Because you got people that's dealing with cancer and with police brutality and they— and drug dealers, all that. Uh, a coronavirus, that's, that's fake, that's not real. I can't You can't touch it.

You can't.

Exactly. Like, I can't— I— but I can touch this other shit. So it's the same thing with rappers or even Black people when it comes to tech. It's like they don't understand the equity stake or they don't understand publishing, right? Or even like the royalties that are on the back end. And I'm tying this in all together. You have worked— you have worked with people that had foresight. Obviously P did. And then Cash Money, if I'm not mistaken, I think that has been called like the greatest deal in the history of music business. Yeah, like what was Baby and Slim's mentality? And obviously we've seen what they've done since then. And how can another artist like think like how they did in order to accomplish what they did?

Um, I don't, I don't know if there will be another deal like that ever again. It was, it was sort of a product of the times. Um, when I found them, they had already put out 31 albums over a 6-year period. It's not like I built them, right? I was just smart enough to see the value. And with them, you know, Baby and Slim, Brian and Ronald, were and are— I haven't spoken to them in decades, but they're very intelligent and they saw the value of what they had, and they had put in so much work that they knew what it took. And really, the value of that deal is because they let me say no for 9 months to people that wanted to sign them. So they trusted my judgment. It was like, okay, Wendy probably knows something we don't know, and she makes good sense when she's explaining it. So if she says this $75,000 deal that Penalty is offering for juvenile isn't it? Maybe we should trust her. And, and they trusted it. And we got it to the point where, you know, like, I wrote a business plan for them and I made them look like a little mini IBM, you know. I, I made sure that they looked—

official—

solvent and strong and corporate. And that attracted Universal. It attracted a couple labels. And Universal was just Um, I don't even think they were the highest bidder. I think, um, I think Mammoth actually outbid them. And again, I can't remember, this is a really long time ago, this is like 20-some-odd years ago. Yeah, but I think Mammoth Records actually outbid them, but they were owned by ABC at the time, which was Disney. And we speculated that, um, BG and Hot Boys and Choppa City in the ghetto might be a problem for Walt Disney to own. So we opted to go with Universal instead, and it was just a really— it was a really great decision for them, man.

Great is an understatement. That's like fucking drafting LeBron. Like, right, like, it's— it's what it spawned out— the— the history of that is just insane, right?

You know what's weird though? Like, I saw that Like, it wasn't like I didn't see it and got lucky. Like, I saw their value. So when I was negotiating their deal, and even when the deal was like at $1 million, which was a lot of money back then, I'm like, mm, no. Like, I saw their value. There was never a time where, where it wasn't understood.

Yeah.

And I just made the labels come correct.

How did you— how did you do— well, I know that, that you dressed them up, and I'm not saying like actually put the clothes on them, but no, yeah, but you dressed the business up to speak to them in a language that they understood. But yeah, but these are still white men that don't understand hip-hop. What— was there anything that you did or said like in the, in the proposal or in the meeting that made them be like, you know what, The numbers.

It was all numbers. It was all numbers. And then at first their staff, their internal staff, was like, these guys are country, they ain't shit. And then finally, um, an A&R guy named Dino DeValier saw the value. And at the time when he was seeing the value, um, we put Cash Money out on a promotional tour with Three 6 Mafia. So that they expanded beyond just Texas and Louisiana, which was their, you know, was their hotbed. So now they started to spread into Tennessee and Alabama and Mississippi and Jacksonville, Florida, and Georgia, and they started to grow. So they went from those 31 albums that they put out before I got involved, the most they ever sold was Choppa City in the Ghetto, which was 25,000. CDs. When I helped them put out their first record, when I was on board, they did 75,000 because we went bigger. And the only reason we went bigger was because I had the experience of working Twista and Do or Die out of Chicago. So I had already conquered Illinois, Ohio, Kentucky, Tennessee, all the way down to Georgia. So I already knew how to work records in that area. They were from a region that I wasn't familiar with So I just brought them into my world and it worked. Like, they were as loved in the Midwest and the Mid-South as they were in Texas and Louisiana.

I can attest to that because I was in high school. I'm from Indianapolis and I was in high school at that time and 14, 15 years old. It was '99, 2000. And when they came, those cassettes, like, they just kept on coming.

And how—

so when you say work a record, because at that time, like, there's no real data as far as internet data or views or likes or followers. Like, so when you say that you worked those records, was it doing shows? Was it radio play? Like, how did you—

not radio, not radio. It was shows. It was building a buzz on the streets, um, because there was no internet. People would talk to each other about music, especially barbershops. Barbershops, flea markets, like there were places where we could go and start a buzz and as long as the music was good, it would— it was like a spark that grew to a fire. If the music wasn't good, you wouldn't be able to— you could spark it, but it would just fizzle out like a fire, you know, like a fire that couldn't catch. So we would set a fire and it would spread. The music would spread like flames and it would just sort of take over. And that's how we broke music. And the way that I do it is wherever the artist is from, I draw a 5-hour driving radius around where they're from, and I work the music in that— that becomes my target market. So I work the music in that area, and I reach all the potential fans that I think will purchase that type of music. And you realize, like, all rap is different, right? It's not like there's one fan that likes all rap. Like, the fan of, of lyrical rap is different than the fan of trap rap. They're, they're two completely different fan bases. So you've got to find the exact fan base that will like the type of music that you have and then reach as many of those fans as you possibly can. And then the word of mouth just spreads. And then today, in addition to that 5-hour driving radius, we add the internet and the internet's always the priority because that's where we break music today. But I still work the streets wherever the artist is from in that 5-hour driving radius so that I've got the internet popping, so the artist is popping digitally, and then they're also popping on the streets. So you can't really escape them.

I was just about to say, like, at that time, man, there was no internet, so that was the only way. But now there is, so— and a lot of us kind of know how to do stuff on the internet, but how—

just through the internet, you've got to do the streets too.

But how do you do the, do the streets? Because people, obviously they're not going to shows right now, right? Barbershops have changed drastically. Niggas take appointments now and it's $80 a cut. Like, people don't stay around all day. So how are you working the streets on records today?

It really, it really depends on the artist because it's different for everybody. But, um, I think you said you're in Houston right now, right? Megan Thee Stallion, who's from Houston, and I just mentioned her because you're gonna understand this personally. Where she started to do club dates and she started to really, um, hit the streets hard. And she was showing up at any event where there was a large congregation of people. So if there was a street fest, she was there. If The Box was doing an event, she was there. If there was, you know, a giant, um, uh, Greek party at university, she was there. She was doing club dates so that people could see that she could really rap. She was doing like, aside from everything she was doing on the internet, she was also doing real world events. And that's what artists have to do. They can't just do the internet. They've got to be, they've got to be out there in the real world because not everybody is on Instagram at the same time. Not everybody is on TikTok at the same time. Not everybody is on Snap at the same time. So you still have to go places. Where there's large amounts of people gathering. We still hit barbershops. I, I hear what you're saying about the appointments and $80, like, I get that. But if an artist comes through an area and they hit that barbershop, even though there might only be 5 or 6 people in there, they're taking pictures with those 5 or 6 people, they're filming for their own Instagram or their own Facebook page. So now when other people are looking in It's almost like, wow, dude made a movie. Like, look, you know, he's at my barbershop. I'm not there, but he's at my barbershop. That's my barber standing next to him, you know. That's my little homie that's getting his hair cut in the back in that photograph, you know. They're still putting postcards in the barbershop so that 3 days later when somebody comes through, they're picking up a postcard like, oh, who's this, you know. They might be doing giveaways at the barbershop where they're saying, you know what, we'll give away a certain amount of swag like t-shirts or, um, or gift bags that have all different sorts of stuff in it, and, you know, with the artist's name on the front. So there's all different ways you can still do it today, but it really depends on the type of music that you make because what works for one artist doesn't work for another. What's gonna work for J. Cole is not gonna work for Melly out of Florida. Yeah, I'm saying like they're very different, um, at places in their careers, different types of music, different fans, different fans.

And I was gonna say that too because you, you worked with Pete and you worked with Twista, then you do or die and he worked with Cash Money, so it's very urban. And then you get this white boy who wants to kill his mom from Detroit. How the hell do you work that record? How do you work him?

College campuses.

They, they were fucking with him?

Absolutely. All day, every day. Every day. Everybody kind of fucked with him. I remember when his first album dropped, like, he had had mix shows, he had been on Stretchin' Babito, which was an underground radio show, like millions of times. Um, he had done Lyricist Lounge probably like 3 or 4 times, so he was already bubbling in the underground. And those of us who really appreciated lyrics already knew who he was. He was on Sway and Tech's Wake Up Show, which was like the equivalent of today's, um, Breakfast Club. Imagine if I went on Breakfast Club 60 times, everybody would know who Wendy Day is, right? So everybody knew who Eminem was. He was already all over all of these different, what we called underground shows. But when he came out, all of a sudden it was white kids that really embraced him more so than the urban community, more so than Black folk and Latino folk, right? And I remember being shocked because Davey D, who was like one of our journalists back then, wrote an article about, you know, is Eminem the new Elvis. And I was like, whoa, Elvis is like such a negative character to me. Like, he's this white guy that stole Black music and took it to white people. So I called Davey D on it and he's like, okay, what's Eminem? I'm like, he's a white rapper. And is it a Black art form? Yeah, rap's a Black art form. And is he bringing it to white people? And I was like, ah. I see your point. I don't necessarily agree, but I see your point. Like, it hadn't crossed my mind at that point in time that he'd be the Antichrist, you know, because I was a fan. I loved Eminem. I thought he was incredible. The man was rhyming 3 and 4 syllable words, like, you know, without writing anything down, like, just off the top of his head. He was amazing. I think he's one of the best rappers ever. And it surprised me me that the Black community didn't embrace him the way the white community has. And it especially surprised me that his label didn't work him in the Black community, which to me was really offensive because the folks that I knew loved his lyricism and they loved his music. But his label bypassed BET and took him right to MTV. They bypassed all the underground shit. Yes, he had been doing and took him to the next level. And there was nobody on his team that said, hey, yo, whoa, whoa, whoa, we can't bypass the hood. We need to hit people of color. Like, that's our market. And they just took him like and threw him into that next level. And to me, that's the real shame of Eminem. Because he didn't get— and he loves the Black community, so he never got to get the love that he would have gotten had his label targeted people of color prior to the white kids, the middle-class white kids.

I 1,000% agree. When, when, uh, the, uh, Slim Shady LP came out, I was a freshman in high school, and at that time, like Like, we weren't listening to the radio. It was Cash Money, it was No Limit, and it was underground shit. And we wanted underground club shit. If we couldn't dance to it, we ain't want you. But the moment that, like, lyrical artists got on dance tracks, like when Jay-Z got on Ha by Juvenile, that, like, changed everybody's perception from the Midwest and from other places about Jay-Z. I think you're right. Had Eminem hopped on a lot more club tracks and really started circling, like, in that community, his respect now amongst Black people would be a lot higher. Because I see a lot of people disrespect him in the past 10 years. You can say what you want, but those first 3 albums, if you don't— there's no way you can be a fan of rap and not say that that shit's masterpieces. And I think it's because what you said, like, he was, he was always being pushed to these white people, and then he would cuss all the white people out, and then he would have Dre and he would have Snoop and he would do some other shit, but they kept pushing. It's like they avoided him being with Cash Money and No Limit, and he could have, he could have easily rapped on all that shit and made it amazing, right?

Agreed.

Crazy, crazy. So I want to talk about— you said you're starting up— was it a YC? What are you starting for?

Rap incubator or an accelerator? It's called Artist Centric. It's, it's not up yet. I'm in the process of getting it funded, so please don't reach out to me and send me music, okay? Um, but for artists that have some funding but don't have enough to do this properly, we'll fund them, but they've got to have some money. They've got to have some skin in the game. Um, when they come into the incubator, we will help them set up and run their company or their career and teach them how to make money with their music and then fund them as well. And when they leave, they will leave with 100% ownership, 100% of their publishing, 100% of their masters, but they will split their income while they're in the incubator so that we can keep the incubator going for future generations. But really what we want to do is make major label deals obsolete, because right now people sign to major labels because they need the money and the know-how. So we want to be able to give them the money and the know-how without offering them, you know, really fucked up oppressive deals.

So you're saying that you're gonna have the incubator, you have an artist in there and they're going to be doing profit sharing. And is the profit sharing just off of royalties? Is it all revenue? What is it? Okay, so just off of royalties, so they still maintain ownership. And then once they exit out, once they leave, do you guys— so you don't have anything in perpetuity? Nope. So are there going to be like metrics that you meet? Like, okay, you come in, we— once you get to $500,000, then you exit? Or how are you guys gonna—

it takes about, it takes about 3 years to really to really get an artist to a point where, where their, their career is secure. The goal is to get them secure and then push them out of the nest.

Okay, okay, that sounds amazing. And that's the future because it's an oppressive deal. So we're gonna take a few questions. It did—

well, it's what I saw Empire start to do, but now they've just become like a giant record label.

Yeah, because it's the same thing that happened with blogs and mixtape websites and now Spotify playlists. This. Once the labels come in and start throwing all that money, like, everybody changes. Everybody loses their morals, you know, like, yeah, it's just bad. So we're gonna take a few questions and then we're gonna get you on out of here. Um, from Joey French, he said, what's good, Wendy Day? This is Joey French. How much money should you put behind a record, or put behind a record, or to push a record?

Um, it really depends, and I'm gonna answer that question directly, but before I give you the number I want to say that the best way for you to do this is to figure out exactly what you want to do to market and promote your music and then price it out. So remember I said it was like a 5-hour driving radius? If you want to give out t-shirts and you think you're gonna give out like 200 t-shirts or 2,000 t-shirts, put that on your list and price it out. That's really the best way to do this. For me, it takes at least $150,000 to get an artist to the point where there's enough money coming back in that I can put the money back into the project. So, um, for me as a consultant, I don't work with anybody that has less than $150,000 of a budget.

Makes sense. From Manly Haynes, he says, what books are good to read to build relationships, Wendy Day?

Wow, relationships. Um, I don't know that you can read a book to build a relationship. Um, maybe a book about small talk. Um, maybe a book about negotiation, because when you're talking to somebody, you're kind of sort of negotiating, but without a point of negotiation. I think to really build a relationship with somebody, you just really have to give a fuck about them. I don't think you can fake caring, you know. You've got to really I think you've got to really care enough about that person to know how they are and how they're doing and what they think and what they believe and what they've seen. And I think that's the best way to build a relationship, is to just give a shit, you know, really care about somebody and want to know more about them as a person.

Yep, I 100% agree. Some, some stuff ain't in a book. Some stuff you need to just get in front of people and actually learn and experience.

Exactly. And I get why this generation would ask that because, you know, we're behind our phones all the time. So we don't have the people skills, or you don't have the people skills that I had to develop because I didn't have the internet. I didn't have a phone. So I had to learn how to resolve conflict and I had to learn how to get along with people that think opposite of me, you know, and you don't really have to do that today.

Yeah, yeah. Last question: will we see more independent rappers have superstar status like Chance and Macklemore in the 2020s?

I think so. Um, maybe not the 2020s, but definitely the '21s and '22s. 2020 is going to be a very difficult year because it's a little challenging to make money out here, so, um, I don't think it'll happen this year, but you will. The reason you haven't seen more up until now is because The artists that have gotten to the Chance status or the Macklemore status, they've had the major labels throw so much money at them that they couldn't say no. So it's, it's not easy to turn down $3 million, $4 million, $5 million, $6 million. So you look at like somebody like NLE Choppa, and you know, part of me wishes that he had stayed independent. You know, I look at Moneybagg Yo I, and wish he had stayed independent. Um, I look at Trouble, who was my client, and we did a deal for him at Interscope, and I wish he had stayed independent. I, I just think that it's very hard to say no to a major label that's offering you millions and millions and millions of dollars. So when artists either stop saying yes and taking deals or the labels stop offering them multi-million dollar deals, that's when you'll see more Chance the Rappers and McLemores.

Yep, I totally agree, totally agree. So, well, we appreciate you. I appreciate you coming on. Um, this was really insightful. We gave a lot of gems here.

Thanks for doing this. Like, I know you don't get paid to do this. You do this because it's your passion, and I'm really, really, really happy that you do this.

Thank you, thank you, thank you for, for for coming on. If there's anything that, that you ever need me to help with, if you ever need me to help promote something or push something or anything, just let me know, seriously, because you did this for me. So thank you.

So happy to do this.

All right, well, that's Wendy Day. We're out the pond. All y'all stay true. Group82music.com.