For the first four years of his career, ‘Gully boy’ rapper, Divine aka Vivian Fernandes would only spit rhymes in English. As a young kid with access to only to Western hip-hop, the now 28-year-old didn’t realise Hindi was a viable option. “I must have made 25 songs and released about ten, but the maximum [views] I got were about 10,000,” says Divine whose earnestness belies the swag he sports on stage. Today, the J.B Nagar Catholic boy’s YouTube channel has more than 8,00,000 subscribers. He’s released music with T-Series, Sony and Zee Music. He’s also provided music for films like Blackmail,Mukkabaaz and Netflix show Sacred Games . Now, Divine has formed his own company Gully Gang Entertainment with his own record label. “I rapped in English but I thought in Hindi,” he gently chuckles. “My listeners were very different from the scene before but now the whole scene listens to us.”
The scene in question is the circle of music fiends who happily devoured jacked-up drinks at Mumbai’s swish bars. They’re that elite person (read: flower child/ hipster) in search of a new cool fix. This not-quite-melting-pot was stirred after Divine’s 2013 hit ‘Yeh Mera Bombay’ . Then, a year later came Naezy’s ‘ Aafat! ’. “We started relating to everyone, whether it’s a businessman, rickshaw driver, hawker or actor,” says Divine. “That’s the beauty of Mumbai, a local guy and actor will both have to drive on same road.” It’s also why there’s been a proliferation of multi-language hip-hop artistes, more than any other music genre. The barrier for entry into hip-hop is lower according to rapper A-List aka Ashwini Mishra who’s been a pioneer of Indian hip-hop. “You didn’t need to move in certain circles or get entry to fancy clubs,” says A-List. “The circle of rappers was fairly mixed in class and caste. It’s not the same rich middle-class kids that form part of the [music] scene.”
Surf and turf
Long before Ranveer Singh was jumping off stages injuring unsuspecting spectators to promote Gully Boy , hip-hop in India had virtual beginnings. Although, MTV introduced the genre to a nation of starved music lovers in the 90s, there were few artistes like Baba Sehgal, Style Bhai and Blaaze who experimented with desi hop-hop. Legit MCs (master of ceremonies or mic controllers) from around the country were battling on Orkut in a group called Insignia (also called Pathshala). The Pathshala, featured Rap Combats (subgroups) on texts, audio and even had a database of contacts. Today’s underground MCs are mostly those Insignia alumni taking hip-hop forward. “They’d write a verse and it was just reading and then they had audio battles, people dissing each other with lyrics,” says 26-year-old Ankur Johar aka Enkore who was active on Insignia along with Divine. “Simultaneously, clubs in the city were having hip-hop nights but there were hardly any MCs.” Artistes like Big Silly, Raja Mukherjee, Vineet Nair (Poetik Justice), Lester Cardoz (Kav-E), DJ Ishani, DJ BobKat are veterans. “Unfortunately [they] ended up in high-brow places and a lot of the artistes ended up having to look more elite,” says Enkore who’s recently released his second album Bombay Soul .
But it was evident that hip-hop had sunk its claws into willing music lovers. Even 50 Cent at the height of his career performed in Mumbai in November 2007. It was during a time only washed-up international musicians passed through the country in a bid to stay relevant. Some time later “Bombay Bassment took the indie scene by storm as India’s first ever hip-hop band,” remembers Ishani Majumdar, one of the first DJs (as DJ Ishani) to host hip-hop nights in the city.
After the noughties, freestyle rap cyphers started mushrooming in a spots like Dadar’s Narali Baug, Sion Fort, hookah parlours and random joints all over the city. Upscale clubs like Royalty too were playing hip-hop in Bandra, although these places were less accessible to most. “We met on a weekly basis and the idea was to create a space where it wasn’t about performances but working on the craft,” says A-List who used to host Cypher Mania for freestyle rapping. “The problem with hip-hop in Mumbai is you didn’t know whether you sucked or not. Even if you were the worst, you still rapped and that community was very crucial,” he adds. Soon dedicated freestyle rap (cypher) nights were established. For instance, event company Culture Shoq’s open mic nights were initially aimed at comedy and poetry. “But then us rappers started filling up all the spots,” laughs Enkore.
Gone with the film
With Gully Boy hip-hop is front and centre in a Bollywood film, but it’s not the first time the two have intersected. Yo Yo Honey Singh, Bohemia, Raftaar, Badshah have been the conveyor belt to fuel Hindi films’ obsession with club hits. As Zoya Akhtar steers away from her brand of cinema (a la riches to rags), Bollywood awakens to a different kind of hip-hop. “From a music point of view, Bollywood is validating our music, they are recognising our music,” says Naezy aka Naved Sheikh who along with Divine are the inspiration for the upcoming film. “Now the masses too will also listen to our music.”
A hip-hop veteran like A-List too considers the merging favourable saying it offers a lot of financial opportunities to rappers. “Hip-hop is not a monolith. Authenticity, doesn’t have to mean one kind of Indian hip-hop,” he says. “If you rap, you’re a real rapper.” Though, Divine appreciates Gully Boy , he understands that the film industry has latched onto something ‘cool’. “I don’t have that much faith in Bollywood. It’s great that hip-hop is in the mainstream, but we shouldn’t depend on it,” he says. “The Internet made guys like me and I think making good music should be the goal, not Bollywood.”
Others are more sceptical. Soon after videos of Gully Boy ’s launch were out, Enkore took to social media to voice his displeasure. He rapped, “ Bollywood scripts ne palte poore biopics aur culture ko diya Rock On/ Samjho yeh strategy, entertainment yeh, na koi documentary / Aur scripted hip-hop kabhi asli nahi . He explains his stance, “I don’t think Bollywood is damaging hip-hop but it’s diluting it. It is the voice of the streets and it’s that voice for us.”
It’s a sentiment that has resonated with every artiste interviewed for this feature. Hip-hop is the voice of the people and it’s here to stay. Most artistes have been hustling to pursue their passion and they don’t plan to stop any time soon. “The indie music scene in general is going through a rough patch right now, limited performance spaces and dwindling crowds,” says Ishani. “Indie hip-hop artistes will adjust to the new dynamics and continue to be a force in this Bollywood-addicted city.”
Make some Naezy
It was some time after the 1992 riots in the city when Kurla was under close scrutiny by the police. “Many people were killed in encounters and it had become hard to get your hands on guns,” remembers Naved Sheikh aka Naezy (a portmanteau of Naved and Noisy) who easily embodies the cool grace he sports in performances. Dressed simply in sweats and T-shirt, he’s bemoaning a mouth ulcer. But it does nothing to stop the gush of conversation. “People use knives now,” he says seriously. The 26-year-old rapper is talking about his childhood where he lived with ten people in a 10x10 house. The “chota criminal” as he calls himself, distinctly remembers how at 14, he heard Sean Paul’s ‘Temperature’ at a neighbourhood function. Hip-hop soon became an escape not just from what was happening outside but also inside for Naezy. With little access to TV and the Internet, Naezy would go to cyber cafés and print out lyrics of songs. He’d meticulously pour over them learning to spit rhymes. After the 2014 viral hit ‘ Aafat’ , the rapper brought Indian hip-hop to the fore. His latest song, ‘Asal Hustle’ (which released two years ago) has 12,51,950 views. “I don’t like the term gully rap, it’s what people have started calling it,” he laughs. “I’d prefer Bombay hip-hop. If we come from Bombay we need to represent our life and our genre, we are more than just gullies.”
Naezy’s famously declared he couldn’t possibly rap about ‘bottles of vodka’, because he couldn’t afford one, let alone four. Instead, he prefers to talk about his life, even if it’s about the less-than-rosy things Mumbai has to offer. “Even if I have money, I won’t talk about it. There are two kinds of rappers in the industry, those who talk about the truth and others who just show off. But I think there’s space for everyone. I want to talk about socio-political issues.” In a soon-to-be-released song, the rapper dissects the relationship between a roadside thug and a police ‘mama’. “I will ask them t umhara duty kya hai, sirf paisa leta hai kya ?
As a child, Naezy impressed the kids in his hood with export quality clothes he’d scoured Colaba and Fashion Street for. Today, he only wears Adidas. “The brands that I used to buy copies of want to style me exclusively,” he smiles with a touch of pride. Things have certainly changed, but Naezy can’t forget his roots. His family still wants him to study further (he’s got a Bachelor’s in Science). Even a Bollywood life inspired by his life won’t impress his family. “ Gully Boy is just another project to them,” he says. “But hip-hop is my life.”
