LA WEEKLY:
Bishop Lamont: Label Gymnastics and an Iconoclast's Vision

During the past decade, the major labels have treated the digital age with the brutish, clumsy idiocy of Lennie pawing a puppy in Of Mice and Men. But few examples are more brazenly buffoonish than Interscope's recent decision to kill the Dr. Dre–produced "Grow Up," the debut single from Aftermath-signed Bishop Lamont, from Carson, California, just as the track began to enter heavy rotation at local urban-radio powerhouse Power 106.

"They said it would be a distraction from [Dre's long-awaited] Detox, so they sent out cease-and-desist letters to stop the record from being played, a record that tested in market research as a No. 1 hit," says the hulking Lamont calmly, hints of fury buried in the back of his baritone. "Have you ever heard of a label threatening to sue a radio station for playing a hit record?"

Wishful thinking, perhaps, considering that the comically delayed Detox,on which Lamont is slated to feature heavily, might never make it out of the recesses of Dre's studio. If anything, Interscope should thank its lucky stars that terrestrial radio, still the premier driver of album sales, was even willing to play a song as complex, thoughtful and pop-averse as "Grow Up." A scathing but sly indictment of immaturity, whether personal or artistic, Lamont's would-be smash practically exists in an alternate universe, away from from the money-muddled mandarinism of Aftermath's biggest star, 50 Cent.

"Whereas most people from the West Coast are stuck rapping about gangbanging and lowriders, Bishop's diverse and eclectic," says Garrett Williams, who works in national and urban promotion for Interscope. "He's a unique breath of fresh air to the game. A lot of rappers only want to talk about how much bling they have. Bishop doesn't even wear jewelry."

Of course, having Dr. Dre's imprimatur is invaluable locally, but to attribute the success of "Grow Up" solely to Lamont's mentor discounts the four impressive mixtapes he's released over the past 18 months, including last November's stellar Caltroit collaboration with J Dilla heir Black Milk.

Lamont partially attributes the prolificacy to a desire to satisfy fans patiently waiting for his (predictably and constantly) pushed-back debut, The Reformation, featuring beats from a rap nerd's production dream team of Pete Rock, DJ Premier, J Dilla, Dre and 9th Wonder.

"I don't want to make people lose faith in me as a new artist," Lamont says. "I love to put music out and feed the masses on whatever level keeps the movement correct and the momentum going. We're trying to bring stuff to give the West Coast a resurgence. There's lyricism and banging beats and, most importantly, it's honest."

When you talk with Lamont and listen to his mixtapes, his unabashed sincerity quickly reveals itself as one of his cardinal virtues, with no question he won't answer, nor any topic too raw for him to rhyme about. In fact, it's little surprise that Dr. "Fuck tha Police" Dre once declared that Lamont and Eminem were the only two rappers whose lyrics had ever made him feel uncomfortable.

"I just like to write, always have since I got into Edgar Allan Poe and Robert Frost when I was young," Lamont reflects. "It got the ghost out of my skull and kept me stress-free. If you're being PC about things, you're just being corny. What I feel might not be the truth for everyone, but I firmly believe that if it's your truth, you have to say it. It's about what you're in it for; do you want to express yourself and try to inspire people or do you just want the check?"

In truth, if "mainstream" West Coast hip-hop is ever going to get its style out of '94, it's abundantly clear that it'll need iconoclastic rappers like Bishop Lamont. So buy a clue, Interscope — stop being mice.