By Jacob Katel
By Karli Evans
By Jose D. Duran
By Pablo Chacon Alvarez
By Kat Bein
By Abel Folgar
By Laurie Charles
Hunting autographs at CB Smith Park in Opa-locka, neighborhood kids hurry past the unguarded gate backstage where hip-hop act Iconz waits to perform. With their debut album Street Money, Volume 1 approaching gold, the performers headline the ninth annual Janet's Youth Talent Showcase, sponsored by Jah-Net's Jamaican Cuisine, and return to the talent show the rappers won well before they blew up back in 1992. In a blink children bombard the chillin' area, tearing posters and anything else they can find off lightposts for the rising stars to sign. "We need to close this entrance somehow, because there are just too many kids coming back here," worries Iconz road manager.
Within minutes it seems as if every child up front has swarmed backstage. One parent follows her daughters to investigate the fuss. "I wanna see who my daughter likes," she explains. The concerned parent is greeted by Chapter, a suave, light-skinned man standing six feet four. The Opa-locka native is one of five partners in the local production company Landmark Entertainment Committee, also known as the Committee.
Formed in 1985, the Committee served as a kind of Southern supermarket, providing producers, engineers, musicians, lyricists, composers, and vocalists to clientele such as Uncle Al, Luther Campbell, and Trick Daddy on more than 25 releases. A name-check of the five producer/founders gives us Carl Bosse, Trek, Guerilla Tek, Fentz, and Chapter.
Battling their way into the business, Chapter and fellow Icon Stage McLoud have known each other since high school and collaborated on each other's work. "We didn't really blow up fast," says Chapter. "We've been in this game for fifteen years, doing everything, bringing out hardcore tracks for the whole down South."
In 1999 the Committee expanded to artist management. The new division, Iconz Music Group, set out to turn a collective of seven artists into icons: Luc Duc, Stage McCloud, Bull Dog, Chapter, Tony Manshino, Screwface, and Supastarr. The strategy led to the Iconz' hit single "Get Fucked Up," but the collaboration among the little-known solo artists also created confusion by giving the impression that Iconz is a coherent group. Iconz actually is a loose recording cluster, like Ruff Ryderz or the fellow Miamians associated with Slip 'N Slide Records. The confusion is heightened by the fact that Street Money was released on the Slip 'N Slide imprint.
"Actually [Slip 'N Slide is] like another team from down here doing their thing," says Stage of the decision to release the disc through the neighboring label. "Slip 'N Slide Records pretty much had the club situation on lock, as far as the hot songs at the club," Chapter adds. "When “Get Fucked Up' came out, it kinda consumed the whole club environment. Ted Lucas from Slip 'N Slide Records stepped to us, and we just worked something out." Slip 'N Slide's parent company, Elektra, ensured the distribution of Street Money nationwide.
The album, pegged "Volume One" to let people know there's more to come, takes the term compilation to the next level. With funny skits and pounding tracks that combine tropical rhythms, Southern thug themes, and Miami bass, each track shows off a different rapper's skills and persona while piling one story upon another -- like a digital storybook. "There's no I in team," observes Luc Duc, who boosts his thug appeal in a denim scarf, Fubu shirt, and black warm-up suit.
If the Iconz are all in the music business together, each brings a different culture to the collective with members from Jamaica and Opa-locka, Haiti and North Miami, the Bahamas and Carol City. Seated at the judge's table while newer talents compete in Janet's Showcase, Supastarr tells New Times: "I'm going to represent for my ladies number one."
Wrapped in a multicolored towel to ward off the chill from a light rain, the petite fatigues-and sequins-clad Iconz mama points out her island heritage as well. "I'm from Jamaica," she says, "so I'm a bring reggae to my hip-hop."
Haitian member Tony Manshino is missing today, completing a brief jail stint. "He's the hustler of the group, but that does not mean drugs or anything," fellow Icon Bulldog says. "He got in some stuff, but he will be out in July in time to drop his album." During a performance at Wyclef's Spring Ting earlier this year, Manshino sported a bandanna bearing a Haitian flag and exhorted the crowd to shout, "Ayisien, Ayisien."
When Iconz take the Opa-locka stage this afternoon, Chapter opens by pointing at the crowd, grabbing his crotch, and moving side to side on the beat. Luc Duc races across the length of the stage and leads the crowd in a cleaned-up version of the high-energy club call that won Iconz fame: "Get Krunked Up."
Despite a substandard sound system with only two working mikes, the Iconz rappers have the crowd screaming. The cheers grow deafening for Supastarr, who has deserted her judge's chair for the stage. The din is so loud, in fact, the audience can barely hear the female rapper flow. So the women out front hold it down themselves, reciting every word of the Jamaican native's krunked-up contribution.