"KOOL HERC IS NOT A STEPPING STONE... HE’S A HORSE THAT CAN’T BE RODE AND A BULL THAT CAN’T BE STOPPED, AND AIN’T A DISCO I CAN’T ROCK!"

Herc: I came to the States in 1967 from Jamaica, I was 12 years old. My mother was studying for nursing in New York City, and she used to bring back records from Motown, & Smokey Robinson. James Brown came to the island one time. "I Feel Good" at the time was a hit record, and I fell in love with that record. Also Jamaican music was a big influence on me, because there was a lot of big sound system they used to hook up and play the weekends. I was a child, ya know, lookin’, see all these things going on and sneakin’ out my house and see the big systems rattling the zincs on the housetops and stuff.
When I first came to New York City in 1967, I was listening to a lot of white stations...DJs like Cousin Brucie. So I was singing a lot of white music. ’Til I got turned on to WWRL (New York’s top Black music station), surfing the stations, picking up the Temptations and different groups.


Alfred E. Smith High School in 1970 Clive had almost completely swallowed his Jamaican accent to the point where most peers never recognized an immigrant tone. He was in a period of re-inventing himself through his passion for music and the scene it breathed. Like most youths across New York City, Clive’s reinvention came by way of the aerosol writing identity on walls. Aerosol Art; ’writing’ was later defined as the first burgeoning sign of a new movement in inner city culture. Across the city, writers like JULIO204, JUNIOR161, CAY161, BARBARA62, EVA62, TAKI183 sprayed their presence unintentionally recruiting youths to do the same with their own monikers. Manhattan, Brooklyn and The Bronx took up aerosol paint and ink marker and "writing" ran the streets early. Clive wrote his signature- "CLYDE AS KOOL" and formed a trio with writers "M&M161" and "UNCLE RICH". People had a hard time picking up his name Clive, the closest they came was Clyde like the New York Knicks’ basketball star ’Clyde’ Frazier so it stuck. KOOL derived from a television commercial about cigarettes with a James Bond type cat, his threads, mannerism and casual attitude to his female acquaintance seemed Kool to him. He added to his moniker a smiley face with a cigarette hanging from the mouth and an Apple Jack’s hat.
Clive’s signature hits brought him to the super-crew, EX-VANDALS (Experienced Vandals) whom he started to hang with. They were a revolutionary aerosol writing crew hailing from Brooklyn starring some of the culture’s most prolific artists and passing presidency in The Bronx to aerosol style master PHASE2. This passion would not come naturally to Clive who distributed his time evenly with his extra curricular activities at school running track, lifting weights and playing rough street ball basketball. Clive was a gifted athlete and had grown an almost mythical shadow behind him, a mammoth physique inside a 6 foot 5 frame, and with his steam-rolling drives to the basket peers and onlookers dubbed him ’Hercules’. He took a disliking to the name Hercules favoring a shortened nickname of HERC. Balancing the street and school, he adopted KOOL, dropped CLYDE and became known across New York City as Kool Herc.

Herc- As I went along I started to go to parties and stuff, and checkin’ out the vibes of the scene. And I started to dance. I’d go over to a place called The Puzzle. The DJ there then, John Brown, used to go to the same high school I used to go to. I would go there basically to go off. I used to run with a writing crew called the "Ex-Vandals." It was PHASE2, SUPERKOOL223, LIONEL163, STAYHIGH149, EL MARKO174 aka DISCO WIZ, and SWEETDUKE161, a lot of aerosol writers. We used to meet up there – it was like a meeting ground. We’d all talk about where we hit, where we bombed, and all that... and we used to dance. A lot of those aerosol writers also was dancers, you know, just free stylin’.
(In the early ’70s) The outlaw gangs came up and start to terrorize the clubs in The Bronx. They started smacking up girls, started feeling them up, disrespecting them, robbing peoples coats and stuff, so it shut the discos down. At the time, "writing" was getting out of hand and I had a strict father so I couldn’t run with that too long, before the MTA start bangin’ on my door, to arrest me. My fathers gonna put an ass-whippin’ on top of that. So I took a chance and put Kool Herc on an index card (to post in the recreation center, announcing a party where Herc would DJ), chargin’ 25 cents for the ladies, 50 cents for the fellas. (Going to other parties around that time) I’d hear a lot of gripe on the dance floor. "Why this guy’s not playin’ this music? Why’s he ...you know, F-in up?" And I was agreeing with them. So I took that attitude behind the turntable, giving the people on the floor what they’re supposed to be hearing. You know? So it was like "Whoah! There’s somebody who knows what they doin’!" So I was the guy who kind of resurrected the music again, on the West Side of The Bronx, a place called 1520 Sedgwick Avenue. 1973.

DJ Kool Herc is the Bronx-battle-tested disc jockey that is most often credited for bringing the basic foundation of something to life on the surfaces of his two turntables. By the early 1970s, he began throwing his free community parties. This is the young man who ignited the spark, with the technique of isolating the "break" part of a many obscure records to dusky classic funk, disco, soul, rock, r&b, latin and reggae records that he, and his MC crew, The Herculords exposed to the audiences in the neighborhood. He and his soundbwoy crew were notorious around town for their dominating treble and bass speakers as part of his custom sound system that drowned buildings from blocks away. From those days, Herc has always kept it true to his intent of spreading peace love and good vibrations. Nearly fourty years ever since he came to America. He continues to give good music and good messages to anybody who wants to have a good time at the party. DJ Kool Herc is hiphop’s architect.??Herc: I didn’t name it either (laugh’s). I was just doing my thing. People appreciated me, appreciated the music I was giving them, I didn’t act above them. I just let them know they can’t come up and do anything to destroy the atmosphere for many more people. It was like a speakeasy: "Hey, cross town on the West Side there’s a guy named Herc, Kool Herc, giving parties, mannn. And it’s nice, ya know? Girls is there, ya know. You could do your thing. All he asks is — don’t start no problem in here, ya know. He’s a big guy, mannn." Cause I have friends, I’d tell’em, "Look, you got a problem, take it down the block." Ya know? I don’t care, "You want to smoke your weed? Take it down the block. Don’t hang in front of the building." At the time, my friends, we wasn’t running with no outlaw gang. The gang members asked us to join their gang – some of the division outlaw gang members wanted us to be division leaders – but we wasn’t going for that because we respected each other and we just said, "Look, we don’t need that." They respected us, we respected them. We didn’t need no colors to be on our back to be recognized or put fear in people’s heart, stuff like that. When they come to the party, they know if they mess with us, we gonna have our business. If you step to me, you’re gonna have problems. So even the gang members loved us because they didn’t want to mess with what was happening. You know? They come in, keep to themselves. Not only that, a lot of Five-Percenters (a splinter group of the Nation of Islam) used to come to my party...you might call them "peace gods," and they used to hold me down: "Yo Herc, don’t worry about it." So we’d just have a good time & everything would be fine. The girls was there. I had just bought a Reverb echo box, so we was experimenting with that, throwing it out, ya know? "Herc...Herc...Herc...Herc...Herc...Herc, what...what...what...what...what...what..." "the joint...joint...joint...joint...joint...joint..." We just playin’ around having fun with it, calling out our friend’s names. Nobody knew where this was going. Some were knocking it, they still knocking it today! HipHop is still in its infancy. Its only thirty five years old, its still young.?The word "HipHop", I throw that bone out there between Love Bug Starsky and Busy Bee. They can fight for that bone.?At the time no one could for see the future, I didn’t know, we was just having fun. Weeks became months, months became years, years become decades.?Its like Christmas and Christmas ain’t going no where. People just need to deal with hiphop and stop throwing rocks at it.

As Herc’s efforts were all too intensive on the turntables alone he couldn’t find the time to hype the crowd with his chanting and rhyming over the mic. He needed someone to take over the duties as the Master of Ceremonies, thus becoming the first ever hiphop MC, Coke LaRock was given the royalty. Herc introduced his fellow immigrant friend Coke LaRock as an MC and he began to send shout-outs or toasts over popular yard-classic Jamaican records such as Count Machuki, Big Youth, King Stitt and U-Roy and hooked up his mic to a space echo box. This element of vocal support over the break beat heightened the crowd onto another platform. The pair developed their own slang to use. Soon after, at an after-hours spot a drunken regular would announce "To my mellow! My mellow is in the house". During a cigarette break waiting for the record to finish Herc witnessed the dancers’ energy fading, springing to life at certain short instrumental breaks or grooves when the band would drop out leaving the rhythm section to endure where upon they would ignite with electric moves. This profound discovery left Herc with the impression of engineering this particular section to repeat over and over to allow the dancers to continue with their high-energy. He began to play the section of the records based on their percussion and rhythmic potential. The everlasting conga classics like ’Bongo Rock’ and ’Apache’ from the ’Incredible Bongo Band’ album and James Brown’s ’Give it Up or Turn it Loose’ live version from the ’Sex Machine’ album, Johnny Pate’s theme to ’Shaft in Africa’ and Dennis Coffey’s ’Scorpio’. He also experimented with soul, latin, jazz and white rock records depending on their funk-influenced congas, bassline or drums. Then he soaked off the LP labels to hinder the competition’s chance of stealing his beats. He introduced a new arsenal to his repertoire where he used two copies of the same record placed on each turntable back-cueing one copy to the start of the break section ready to take over once the other had finished, repeating the break over and stretching it from several seconds to a five-ten minute moment of madness. He focused all his efforts on this new weapon of choice sending dancers into ecstatic fits of fury. This he dubbed the ’Merry-Go-Round’. Kool Herc and the element of DJing would never look back again.

Herc: At the same time, I would say something myself with a meaningful message to it. I would announce things like:
"Ya rock and ya don’t stop, And this is the sounds of DJ Kool Herc and the Sound System you’re listening to is what we call The Herculoids. He was born in an orphanage, he fought like a slave fuckin’ up faggots all the Herculoids played, When it come to push come to shove, The Herculoids won’t budge, The bass is so low you can’t get under it, The high is so high you can’t get over it, So in other words be with it"

My man Coke LaRock went by the name Nasty Coke and finally he just liked the name Coke LaRock. There was Timmy Tim and there was the original Clark Kent aka Bo King. We called him the Rock Machine.


DJ Baron: I was going to Herc parties in ’74, ’75 when he was still doing The Community Center in his building (1520 Sedgwick Ave). I used to live on Undercliff Ave and Herc lived on Sedgwick Ave. I had an older brother named Dimitri who used to hang out with Kool Herc. I was too young so I was like a tag-a-long. I used to help move Herc’s equipment, then get into the party for free. Herc started with PA columns and guitar amps. There was no mixer, no power amps – it was a guitar amp and speakers. He used to switch from turntable to turntable on a guitar amp, from channel one to channel two. That’s how mixing started out. As he did parties and accumulated his money, his set got better.

Herc: I was giving parties to make money, to better my sound system. I was never a DJ for hire. I was the guy who rent the place. I was the guy who got flyers made. I was the guy who went out there in the streets and promote it. You know? I’m just like a person who bring people together, like an instrument, an agent who bring people together and let ’em have fun. But I was never for hire. I was seeing money that the average DJ never saw. They was for hire, I had my own sound system. I was just the guy who played straight-up music that the radio didn’t play, that they should be playin’, and people was havin’ fun. Those records, people walk from miles around to get ’em ’cause they couldn’t get ’em, they wasn’t out there no more. Just Begun, Rare Earth, James Brown, The Isley Brothers, they’d just love it. Ya know? Sometime people would make a mistake and give a party on my date. And they would stop their party at two o’clock and tell the whole party, "I’m goin’ to see Kool Herc. We’re goin’ to finish the party at Kool Herc’s party." I look out the window and see like 20-30 people headin’ towards the little recreation room. So one day I gave a block party, and that showed me that this thing got bigger than what we thought it was going to turn out to be.


Grandmaster Flash: There was this guy Clive Campbell, who went by the name of Kool Herc, that used to play music. And the word went around – just word of mouth – that this guy was coming out in the park, that you had to go see this guy. This guy would bring this setup outside to what was called a block party. And he’d have these huge speakers, this huge, huge setup. And he’d be playing this particular type of music that they weren’t playing on the radio. At the time, the radio was playing songs like Donna Summer, the Trammps, the Bee Gees — disco stuff, you know? I call it kind of sterile music. Herc was playing this particular type of music that I found to be pretty warm; it had soul to it. You wouldn’t hear these songs on the radio. You wouldn’t hear, like "Give It Up Or Turn It Loose," by James Brown on the radio. You wouldn’t hear "Rock Steady" by Aretha Franklin on the radio. You wouldn’t hear these songs, and these are the songs that he would play. And I said to myself, "Wow, this is pretty interesting, what he’s doing here."


Grandmaster Caz: The turning point which – which made me go from pedestrian to driver I like to call it – was in 1974. I went to a party, an indoor party at a club called The Hevalo, and I saw this DJ named Kool Herc. He was the DJ, I mean he was it. Everything that I heard and saw all came together that night when I saw him DJ-ing. I saw how it’s really done and what it’s really about. How he had all the b-boys dancin’...I said, "Now that’s what I wanna do. I mean, I did the dancin’, now I wanna be the one who makes people dance." That night in 1974 when I went in that club and I saw Herc, I knew from that day on that’s what I want to do for real, you know? Not as a hobby. I wanna be a DJ.


Hercs celebrity was growing so ferociously he attracted some real numbers in crowds. Notable fans were DJ AJ and Grandmaster Flash who followed him on every show he put out emulating his style and techniques with aspirations of taking this phenomenon to another level. So popular were Herc’s shows he distracted gang activity changing their climate to a more creative atmosphere. Instead of involving in a criminal element, outlaw gangs or crowds formed based on the music scene with dance crews, DJ’s representing their turf through movement and expression over violence. At many of his large events crews would arrive not to disrupt and cause trouble but to make room in the crowd and strut new moves to show up other crews. A new element had taken over for the better. To the point where if a fight broke out Herc would announce on the mic with a warning for them to cut it out and like being told off in class, they took to the warning and cooled out. Herc was The Man and no-one wanted to be called out by him and left for suckers. Local followers of his Merry-Go-Round who refused to conform to the dance steps to that of the groups like The Hustle would form circles and jump in with impromptu spasms of body contortions in the middle/begining of a songs percussion sounds of rhythm, congas and drums. Herc called these guys and gals the "Break Boys" known as B-Boys. Yet another aspect of an inner city culture had unfolded right before Herc’s eyes and this continued to gain interest. Pretty soon after Herc had established his own clique of DJs and B-Boys and MCs who assembled at his events to put on a show and spread the energy of his movement. He called them The Herculords featuring the talents of Coke LaRock, DJ Timmy Tim with Little Tiny Feet, DJ Clark Kent The Rock Machine, The Imperial JC, BlackJack and a host of b-boys & b-girls including The Twins, Pebelee-Poo and Sweet N’ Sour, who established their own personalities in the scene. Herc refused to call them a crew insisting ’crew’ carried a gang-like stigma, the clique would appear named on flyers produced by PHASE2 alongside The Herculoids sound system that made him famous and heard so far and wide. These outside events were beginning to come together as an all-round spectacle, where the first DJ battles took places introducing DJs such as Afrika Bambaataa from the Zulu Nation. The Herculoids sound system was put into effect to shut down up ’n comers like Bam and Grandmaster Flash.

Jazzy Jay from The Zulu Nation recalls: Herc was late setting up and Bam continued to play longer than he should have. Once Herc was set up he got on the microphone and said "Bambaataa, could you please turn your system down!!!". Bam’s crew was pumped and told Bam not to do it. So Herc said louder, "Yo, Bambaataa, turn your system down-down-down.!!!" Bam’s crew started cursing Herc until Herc put the full weight of his system up and said, "Bambaataa-baataa -baataa -baataa, TURN YOUR SYSTEM DOWN!!!" And you couldn’t even hear Bam’s set at all. The Zulu crew tried to turn up the juice but it was no use. Everybody just looked at them like, "You should’ve listened to Kool Herc."


In 1975 Herc moved up a notch trying to turn his efforts professional, investing his money in various sound system set-ups, performing at all-age dances at the Webster Avenue P.A.L. He was turning twenty and wanted a more adult crowd to appreciate and attend his performances. The Twilight Zone on Jerome Avenue became his first professional venue after repeated shut downs of his illegal parties at Cedar Park. He turned up with The Herculords and screened large video footage of Muhammad Ali fights until he warned the video was revving up individuals to fight at his shows. He would turn up a club called The Hevalo handing out flyers for the Twilight Zone shows until he emptied out the club in favor of his shows. Eventually the owner of The Hevalo joined Herc and hired him to play there as well. He played at a joint called the Executive Playhouse (later renamed The Sparkle on 174th Street and Jerome Avenue near Tremont) to a full house of adults. Kool Herc also took his talents to HillTop371 which was DJ Hollywood’s spot and The Disco Fever. Crowds came to hear Herc and Coke LaRock’s rhymes over the breaks, Herc would chant out proudly: "You never heard it like this before, and you’re back for more and more and more of this here rock-ness. ’Cause you see we rock with the rockers we jam with the jammers, we party with the partyers. Young lady don’t hurt nobody. It ain’t no fun till we all get some. Don’t hurt nobody young lady." Coke and another member would continue with: "KOOL HERC IS NOT A STEPPING STONE... HE’S A HORSE THAT CAN’T BE RODE?AND A BULL THAT CAN’T BE STOPPED, AND AIN’T A DISCO I CAN’T ROCK!" Herc..Herc..Herc..Herc! Who’s the man with a master plan from the land of Gracie Grace? Herc..Herc..Herc..Herc!"
By 1976 KoolHerc was the top draw in The Bronx, he was the freshest presence with the dopest threads, coming a long way from his ill snow-caps and cowboy boots to sporting Lee or AJ Lester suits, his trend followed by notorious ghetto-celebs, dancers, aerosol writers, drug dealers and high-rollers and Harlem hustlers. Kool Herc and Coke LaRock owned the movement until 1977 when younger protégées like Flash and Bambaataa captivated the Boogie-Down with their honed continuation of Herc’s legacy. Right before their time, Herc was gearing up play an event at The Executive Playhouse when fate sent him a terrifying signal to stand down from the turntables. At the venue he overheard a scuffle breaking out between Mike-with-the-Lights (from Cindy’s "Back to School" parties at Sedgwick) and somebody at the door. Mike had refused entry to three men who grew increasingly intolerant of this. Herc went to mediate between the two parties when one of the men drew a knife and stabbed Herc three times in the side and once more in the palm of his hand when he put his hand up to cover his face before retreating upstairs out of the venue leaving Herc shell-shocked and went into recluse.
After this occasion in 1977 his flame died out and the torch was passed to his prodigal DJs Grandmaster Flash and The 3 MCs and the various crews behind Afrika Bambaataa with their polished emceeing over more developed turntable skills. This put Herc at a disadvantage, he stepped aside to allow the younger generation to redefine this new-found genre of music. Herc played one of his last parties in 1984 that appeared in the film BaetStreet.


The impression on an inner city culture genres, the man responsible for unfolding the core essentials of a generation and unleashing an unprecedented genre of music that had transcended today into the greatest influence to popular culture some thirty plus years later. To reinstate the statement, before there was hiphop there was Herc and without him, his friends & surroundings, the movement would not be so.








THE JAMWELL EXPRESS