Truth Universal was born in Trinidad and moved to New Orleans in 1977 at 4 years old, growing up on St. Bernard Avenue in the 7th Ward and in New Orleans East. After getting hooked on hip-hop culture at an early age, he started emceeing in 9th grade and developed into a performing artist while studying at Louisiana Tech and Grambling.
By the late-’90s and early-2000s, Truth Universal was making a name for himself in New Orleans and on the road for his socially conscious, provocative hip-hop. In 2002, he launched Grassroots, a monthly hip-hop showcase, which ran first at the Neighborhood Gallery and then the Dragon’s Den. It became an influential hub for underground hip-hop in New Orleans — and a launching pad for many local emcees, like Dee-1 and Alfred Banks. Grassroots held its last event in 2012.
Over the last decade or so, Truth Universal has steadily eased back on live performances but remains a renowned figure in the city’s underground hip-hop community. And although he isn’t seen as often on stage, he has continued to release new music, including the recent single, “Conscious X Trill.” Find more on Instagram: @truthuniversal.
This interview is part of a series reflecting on New Orleans’ role in hip-hop.
Q&As with artists about the past, present and future of New Orleans hip-hop and bounce.
Gambit: Could you tell me about your introduction to hip-hop? I was reading you caught a b-boy competition at the 1984 World’s Fair that was impactful for you.
Truth Universal: Yeah. I can’t remember the name of the crew, but Page One was the main guy. Page One works with Dragon Master Showcase. I caught them in front of the entrance of the World’s Fair, which is like Riverwalk now.
And we were breakdancing in the neighborhood, too. We were into the movies, like “Beat Street” and “Breakin’,” and music-wise, we were getting things like Grand Master Flash and the Furious Five. You hear a lot of people in my age range talk about [Furious Five’s] “The Message” being their first real taste of hip-hop. So that was definitely something that made a mark on me.
And this is indelibly etched in my brain — there was a talent show, the WYLD [98.5 FM] talent show, and while I was too young to really attend, they were broadcast on the public access station on television. I don’t even know if it was on the public access — it may have been one of the standard stations or maybe later or a paid programming spot.
A big thing at time was the beatbox-emcee thing, like Just Ice doing “Latoya.” That format was big. And at the WYLD talent show, you had Rappin’ Roy.
He was just rapping, and the song was like, “I got robbed in the Iberville,” for the Iberville Projects, and it was modeled after [Slick Rick & Doug E. Fresh’s] “La Di Da Di.” There is this line that sticks in my mind — the first part is kinda foggy, but “They backed me up / but what they didn’t know / is they wasn’t gettin’ my blue Kangol.” [laughs]
It just did something and that stuck with me for years. It just snowballed from there. Soon after, I remember, the first cassette tape I had — I used to go to the Sound Warehouse on Chef Menteur Highway — was The Fat Boys. That came from Kurtis Blow, he produced them, and he was somebody we were listening to a lot.
By that time, I was in 6th or 7th grade, and that started the journey right there. Later, I gravitated toward the more political stuff, like Public Enemy, KRS-One, Poor Righteous Teachers. That was high school, and it started shaping me, with my socio-political ideals and as an individual — and then, of course, that’s going to reflect in the music.
At some point in there, I started emceeing in about 9th grade, you know, dabbling. I was kind of emulating what I was seeing, the folks I mentioned, Big Daddy Kane, Kool G Rap. We would write the stuff down, and I would learn everything like that. I started knowing everybody’s material, and then I started freestyling and growing into my own.
Gambit: Do you know much else about Rappin’ Roy?
Truth Universal: No, nothing. And I’ve searched over the years. I think unless you were kind of around that neighborhood, that scene — and I was too young to really be involved then. I don’t know if he had a tape circulating or something.
He might have been a strictly live performer. I mean, that’s common before people get into the studio, you know. You’re just hitting stages and doing this stuff live. For instance, T Tucker and DJ Irv, that’s starting bounce.
I think the first — and it maybe wasn’t a conscious understanding at the time — local impact on the hip-hop format was T Tucker and DJ Irv. And I guess it was after the fact, when I sat back and kind of analyzed it that I put it together: It’s an emcee and a DJ. The emcee is freestyling, just like you would hear people are doing in parks in New York and other places on the East Coast. He’s freestyling and the DJ is continuing the break to create a beat.
This was live at Ghost Town [bar on Edinburgh Street] before they recorded anything. But they recorded the performance and that was on a tape that was circulating. And this performance tape was like a 30-minute long song.
The performance tape, that they did live at the club, was like 30 minutes, and then when it started taking off, somebody with a label was like, “Hey, we need to get this in the studio.” And they made it on the radio.
Gambit: Who were some of the New Orleans performers you first picked up on?
Truth Universal: I heard Mannie Fresh recently say that he was a disciple of Mantronix, and we came up listening to them, too — but then, we were listening to Mannie Fresh and New York Incorporated and Ninja Crew. Then it was Mannie Fresh and Gregory D shortly thereafter. Mia X, although she had more bounce early on.
But yeah, definitely those folks. Coming more into the ’90s, there was this whole indie, underground scene that was showing me, “Hey man, we can actually do something.” And I’m a part of it, but I’m in and out of town going to school.
I was seeing some of it while I was here — you know, like in high school, we had rap battles. 39 Posse and KLC [the Drum Major] that’s a big influence — a major figure in the scene, even before No Limit Records.
I went to high school with [39 Posse’s] MC Dart. He was in my homeroom. A matter of fact, we had a Christmas party one year and Dart was like, “I’m gonna take care of the DJ.” And you know, you don’t have DJs in your homeroom for a Christmas party, but he said, “I’m bringing a DJ.”
They brought these big speakers and these turntables into the homeroom, and we had a block party in the hallway. It got shut down [laughs]. But the DJ was KLC.
KLC and Mannie Fresh would DJ our high school dances. Also, let me mention Devious D. I went to McDonogh 35, and these were all folks touching McDonogh 35. That might be a significant thing.
Celebrating New Orleans as hip-hop turns 50.
Brother Black Steel, he dropped in. He was in a group called Storm Children. There was MC Krush, who battled Devious D on the blacktop. Dart battled Black Steel on the blacktop. Man, I’m getting excited remembering all this.
And there was Psychoward. I don’t think they get talked about enough. A lot of folks that have had commercial success that came from New Orleans kind of touched Psychoward.
Mac [Phipps] was in Psychoward. DJ Wop, he worked with Mac and was Mannie Fresh’s right-hand man. Mac also had a group, Mac & Storm [with Janelle “Storm” Perrilliat], before No Limit. And that’s what I wanted to hear when he broke out, but he went with another style at No Limit.
There was also Raj [Smoove]. He came out of Psychoward, and he worked with Lil Wayne and other folks in the industry. E.F. Cuttin, he’s been my DJ for the longest time. I feel like Psychoward doesn’t get mentioned enough. I want to talk about them any time I get a chance.
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Gambit: As bounce started to become more popular, do you remember what the reaction was coming from the underground hip-hop artists you knew?
Truth Universal: Oh yeah, of course. You know, Mystikal had “Never Gonna Bounce” on “Mind of Mystikal.” And Mystikal and UNLV had their beef.
I’m growing up in it, and we’re going to the clubs — Big Man, Club 49, Big Easy, Sensations. And that’s what they’re playing. We’re in the mix.
But at the same time, as somebody that’s gravitating toward hip-hop in a certain format and becoming a purist, we definitely had some type of reaction to bounce. It could have been a “holier than thou” thing and being protective of the art, but we had opinions when it came to making music and listening to music.
One thing at the time I didn’t appreciate as much [as I should have]: I’m glad that I was able to be exposed to so much bounce. All of my friends were listening to UNLV and what Mannie Fresh was doing with early Cash Money.
I was not initially like “I’m gonna listen to UNLV” because I was like “Nah, that’s not hip-hop.” That was my mindset — which was wrong. I don’t have any problem admitting I was wrong about that.
So I’m glad I was able to hear this genius production that was happening with Mannie Fresh, because he took bounce and really put his signature sound to it. It wasn’t just bounce. It wasn’t just “Triggerman,” even though he said he’d use an element of “Triggerman” in every song he makes. It wasn’t that only. It was something else. It was hip-hop, and I’m glad I could hear that.
Yeah, we definitely had a reaction to it. We had this arrogance about us when it came to hip-hop. But again, that was an immature stance, I feel. In my maturity, I’m able to go back and look and say, “Hey, that’s our expression of hip-hop.”
Celebrating New Orleans as hip-hop turns 50.
Gambit: You mentioned starting to emcee in high school. Can you tell me more about how your own music developed?
Truth Universal: I started freestyling in the backseat of my friend’s vehicle when we’d go out in high school. We’d be there freestyling, going back and forth, and this was throughout high school. But I never really got in front of anybody and did much — this was just my friends.
Later one, the first semester at [Louisiana] Tech, my friend was my roommate and we’d always go back and forth, freestyling in the mornings before class. And he was like, “Man, you need to write some of this stuff down.” So I did.
Shortly thereafter, I met a guy at Tech, Brian Collins, he was building this makeshift studio in his room. He didn’t have the equipment or a four-track or anything, but he was building this little studio. So we’d go to his room, and he would loop these beats on this, like, double cassette recorder, and then we’d record to the beats.
We started calling it Pit Production Studio and it grew and grew and grew. He got more equipment, and we were recording full songs. I never released anything, but I should have.
Then I made the transition from Louisiana Tech to Grambling, and I’m watching people circulating tapes and stuff. I didn’t think about releasing anything until after college.
Even though we were recording, we weren’t releasing music. But I was battling folks. I was doing some performances here and there when we could.
It wasn’t until I got back down here in the late ’90s — ’98-’99 — that I really got serious. When I was at Tech, I met DJ Maxmillion and we just used to talk about music, and he taught me how to DJ. He has a huge record collection, and he would tell me about what he would sample. And about right around ’99, I got my [own recording equipment] and was like, “Hey man, I’m gonna put out a record.” I’ve got the production gear and I had a lot of material.
Brian wasn’t [in New Orleans] but he had a friend here across the river who would record me. So I’d go over by his crib and record, and I recorded my first single. It was a vinyl single that I had — and then it was like, “What do I do with this?”
So I had that single, or at least it was getting pressed, and I had all the songs on CD, and then the Mic Check 2000 happens.
Max called me and say, “Hey man, there’s this battle you might want to get into.” Because he knew what I was aiming for and this was going to be a good platform, he felt. People were talking about and it had even happened yet.
Celebrating New Orleans as hip-hop turns 50.
Gambit: What was Mic Check 2000?
Truth Universal: It was a battle that was held by these cats from [University of New Orleans]. It was held at Café Brasil — man, the whole underground movement, when folks were out doing shows, Café Brasil and Café Istanbul were hubs for performance. When I’d come back into town, I would jump into those places and get into the freestyle circles and do stuff.
So Mic Check 2000 was being held at Café Brasil, in 2000. That’s where a lot of us met. Meeting Lyrikill came from that. Mercure and J-Dubble were there. Psychoward was well represented. That’s where I really met DJ EF Cuttin.
Also you had Bionik Brown. I think he won the battle.
It wasn’t a performance, per se. It was a battle. But we met each other there. That’s kind of a genesis of the second coming of the underground, indie hip-hop movement here.
Gambit: Sorry to jump ahead a couple of years, but I wanted to ask about the Grassroots Showcase. What led you to start the event?
Truth Universal: Like I said, Mic Check started a lot of collaboration. I started seeing us doing more performances in different places, more cats were involved in doing openings, labels started bubbling up, like Media Darlings, Renaissance Records. Maxmillion was doing more mixtapes, and a lot of those crews were on those mixtapes freestyling.
I released that single I had talked about earlier, and Max and I finally got together and released something he produced, “Four-Track Mind,” and that’s the first thing I sent out to DJs. It started showing up on college radio charts.
From there, I started doing more shows and traveling more. I was in Milwaukee, doing a show there and I just loved their format. There were all these components there that was helping foster growth of community. It was a showcase, there was a relationship with a radio station, there were promoters, and they were also intertwined with the booking in the city. I’m looking at this and was like, “Man, it would be great if we had something like that at home.”
Atlanta was doing similar things, and there was a cat in Seattle, Jonathan Moore, may he rest in peace. He started the Red Bull Big Tune, the beat battles they would do. He helped start that, and he was an artist manager. I met him in Atlanta, but he was doing something similar in Seattle, a showcase. I just remember I talked with him at length about growing a showcase.
When I came back to New Orleans, I talked with EF [Cuttin] about starting a showcase series. So we started by looking around for a place. And I found Neighborhood Gallery in Uptown on Oretha Castle Haley, which had an art gallery on one side and a performance space on the other side.
This is 2002, we found Neighborhood Gallery and we just started it. We decided to do it monthly, and it was with the intention that it would feature us, bring in bigger acts at some point that we would support and network with and be a part of a touring circuit for independent artists.
We did it up until Katrina and then we had a couple years hiatus. I wasn’t quite ready to bring it back, but we had Impulss, who was doing this battle series with performance. That set the stage to bring back the whole underground performance opportunities. That set the stage for it — so big ups to Daniel Perez.
I talked with Brix, who used to run Dragon’s Den. He was a drum and bass dude, and went by DJ Proppa Bear. I met him when he owned a record store in Milwaukee, and then he came down here and was running Dragon’s Den. He knew what I did and we stayed in touch, and when I was looking for a place to house Grassroots the second time around, I went to him and he was like, “Man, no questions.” It wasn’t even a long conversation. And he gave me the first Saturday of the month.
We kept that going for a few more years — until my daughter was born in 2012. That’s when I started slowing down, because then I had two daughters and that was a lot to keep up with. [Laughs]
Celebrating New Orleans as hip-hop turns 50.
Gambit: Could you tell me about some of the people who came through Grassroots, local and touring?
Truth Universal: Akil from Jurassic 5 performed our farewell in 2012. Bionik came through. Divine True Earth did some stuff. Proper English from Baton Rouge came through with his crew. The Ill Relatives, they were cool with Crooked Lettaz.
One Be Lo came through. Lots of folks from Houston and Dallas. Psychoward — can’t forget to say that.
Lyrikill. Nesby Phips definitely came through. Raw Dizzy. DJ RQ Away spun a few times. I can’t forget Dee-1 and Alfred Banks, of course.
Just about everybody in the underground came through at some point.
Gambit: A few people have told me about how important Grassroots was as an early stage for them. Did you have any kind of mission when it came to giving new artists that platform?
Truth Universal: Definitely. All in part of being something integral in the hip-hop community, I wanted folks to understand how to present yourself when you go outside of [the city]. I wanted to help folks edify themselves in that way.
I would tell them to send us tracks with no vocals. It could be a show track, but preferably separate tracks, no vocals. Promote yourself. Hone in on presentation. Original music. This isn’t a lip-sync show.
That was the main thing, though: Come prepared to perform. It was to help young folks understand how to perform, how to present yourself.
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