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Beats, rhymes & life skills: Edmonton's Darkson Tribe counsels kids with a bad rap

Edmonton Journal
Saturday, October 25, 2003
Page: D8
Section: Ed
Byline: Olivia Cheng
Source: Freelance

A ward of the province and only 15 years old, Mike scowls in the basement studio of Edmonton hip-hop trio Darkson Tribe and offers little in the way of conversation beyond monosyllables.

Asked for the third time why he looks up to the Darkson boys, the bandana-clad teen finally sneers: "They're not friggin' assholes, I can tell you that right now."

Luckily, Darkson's RJ "Baby-Jing" Cui is there to break the ice. He hands Mike a mic, the teen drops his guard, finds his voice and starts spraying angry lyrics over Cui's bouncy beats.

Mike represents a side of DST that Edmonton hip-hop fans likely don't know about. Darkson's MCs work for Forbes Youth Support, a private company contracted through the Alberta government. They're Mike's youth workers, and bringing Mike into the studio is a Darkson initiative to expose their young, high-risk clients to self-expression through hip-hop.

"Music is a huge part of our lives and obviously so is youth work, so being able to blend them and meld them together has been really positive," says Cui, 24.

Most of Darkson's clients are boys aged 12 to 17, and the challenges they present are as varied as the samples on a Beastie Boys record.

"We have kids that need very little supervision, they have their own programs, their own lives, their own set of friends, their own job," explains Anthony "Blackmale" Adeniken, 25. Other clients exhibit "severe developmental disabilities, where they're breaking (things), smashing windows and assaulting staff."

Finding a way -- any way -- to connect with their wary young wards is crucial.

"These kids have pretty much seen youth workers, if not their whole life, then three-quarters of their life," says Warren "Systematix" Evans, 23. "Every new youth worker that comes, (the kids) are tentative because they're not sure if (the youth worker is) there to help them, be their friend or just collect a paycheque."

Evans figures Darkson's beats and rhymes drum up an important advantage.

"Hip-hop's such an easy gateway to connect with the kids. As soon as they find out we're in a group it's like: 'Wicked, can we bump beats in your car?' "

Once word of Darkson's musical identities spread, many clients were eager to be a part of the creative process. "We just started to involve them in bringing them to the studio or letting them check out a sound check," recalls Cui. "It turned out to be a really positive thing."

Some of the kids have even laid down tracks, on topics ranging from failed relationships and the pressures of street life to finding Christianity.

DST also taught their clients the ins and outs of marketing. The kids, Cui says, have become "little street reps holding us down in the streets" by distributing band flyers and successfully hawking CDs.

"As a bonus to them, we let them sell the CDs for $15, and keep a $5 profit for themselves," notes Evans.

To give clients further incentive to work hard, DST has promised them interlude spots on its sophomore album next spring ... if the aspiring artists prove their rap skills.

Cui admits people are sometimes shocked to learn of rappers who aren't stereotypical gangsta wannabes.

"I think it's awesome that we can mess with that misconception," he enthuses. "It definitely gives a positive spin on hip-hop and people can see that it's not just the thug or gangsta life."

Even if Mike's not articulate in expressing his high regard for DST, Kimberly, another youth worker, is. She heaps praise on her MC co-workers, insisting that their influence has pushed Mike to freestyle and pen his own lyrics.

"His writing skills have improved immensely," she says. "His entire being -- spiritually, physically, emotionally, mentally -- has risen up."

Cui says the positive response has prompted Darkson Tribe to look at formalizing the program. Cui's aiming to create a non-profit organization dubbed "Soundz of Youth," which would offer a six-week studio program for teens to create and record an original song.

"It's something that up till now has not been available to them," he says.

olivia.cheng@globaltv.ca
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  © Copyright 2005 OLIVIA CHENG