
Dust was never my drug of choice. As much as I enjoy getting twisted, the sherm threw me so far away from normalcy that I once shat myself on a bad trip. In addition to control issues, I was also born more into the Special K and ecstasy era than I was into the leak years.
I can’t say the same for Kool Keith. Since his days as an Ultramagnetic MC, his style was anchored in an intoxicating need to not just say the opposite of what average cats would say – but to say what nobody on earth would expect to drip from any human’s jawbone. If you said “tomato,” he’d say, “flagella.”
And then there were the beats. Like so many luminaries who came up before we threw parades for producers, he was never given proper dues for his aural innovation (though Keith is partly to blame since he’s given himself credit under more than half-a-dozen aliases). You know those contemporary El-P beats that don’t really sound like beats? Keith deserves bundles of props for those lo-fi abstractions.
I’ve interviewed Keith a few times, and he’s one of the strangest, nicest, and most arrogant dudes out there. His persona on record – as far as I can tell – is the way he acts while he’s eating corn flakes at the breakfast table (though I’m not sure if he wears the studded harness, Black Elvis wig, and moon boots).
Above all, Keith is a seismic word machine, and, as far as he’s concerned, all those who have come similar but come after are imposters. That’s not so say he lacks respect for students and contemporaries; his work with the Cenobites, Kutmasta Kurt, Ice-T, and so many others has challenged and surprised at every burn.
Some of Keith’s laments are warranted; half the so-called space rappers who proliferated in the 90s would likely name him as a great influence. As would nerds like me, who used to (and even still) get hella wasted and crack up to Dr. Dooom and such. A diverse list like this wouldn’t be possible without Keith; if he never landed here then half of our favorite rappers would be making weird and awful rock music.