By Christian Schaeffer
By Daniel Hill
By Joseph Hess
By Joseph Hess
By Allison Babka
By Gina Tron
By Kelsey McClure
By Roy Kasten
What makes Killergram and its flagship group, the Flo Fanatics, remarkable is the unique synthesis that brought them to life. Brothers Patrick, Codey and Matthew Taylor and half brother Charles Billups (later known by noms du rap Lyricol P, Ray Loc, Mysterious and Myzery) went into a neighborhood studio looking to record some tracks. Even though hip-hop was not their specialty, the producers recognized talent when they heard it and agreed to work with the brothers. The brothers became the Flo Fanatics, and new gangster-rap label Killergram Records set up shop at the Penny Studio, run by producer Chris Deckard and engineer Jason Rook.
This is unusual because Deckard and Rook are quite possibly the whitest white men on the planet.
Rook is a member of rock combo Wormwood Scrubs, the backing band for singer/songwriter Larissa Dalle. A carefree, talkative person, Rook will engage in conversation with anybody, even at the most inappropriate moments. He rides around town on his rebuilt 125cc Vespa scooter, proudly proclaiming how he "bored it out to 133cc," and takes any and all mocking or criticism with good-natured aplomb.
More of the mad-scientist type, Deckard is one of the few people in St. Louis who truly follows his own vision -- even if it is, at times, incredibly eccentric. He is the kind of person who shows up to social events wearing chain mail, leather and feathers, pink fuzzy hats and other outré items. He builds custom electronics and can get lost in sound for hours, trying to get something to feel just right. The more erudite of the two, Deckard measures his words carefully.
To say these two don't have a degree in Thuganomics, Pimpology or Playanometry would be an understatement.
Known for producing mostly fringe rock, experimental noise and general weirdness out of their hand-constructed Penny Studio, the pair are unlikely rap moguls. Imagine Sean "P. Diddy" Combs collaborating with Japanese noise punks the Boredoms, or Dr. Dre deciding to quit messing with those fools Eminem and 50 Cent and then recording country tunes with his homies Alabama, and you'll get a picture of the level of mismatch involved in the Killergram genetic makeup.
The Flo Fanatics were born on the south side of St. Louis and live right around the corner from the Lemp-based Penny Studio. They range in age from seventeen to twenty, and those who know them describe them as hard-working and industrious. They describe themselves on record as "two Bloods, a thug, and a Crip." Possessing hyper-kinetic energy and a desire to make it big, the Fanatics put in as much time as the studio has available to work on new tracks. Though they rap about riches and cars, they have the presence of hungry kids, fronting to have something they plan to get eventually. Standing on the corner selling their CDs, borrowing bicycles from friends to track down absent group members and always stopping to flirt with the neighborhood girls, they are fully immersed in the streets they represent. Of their improbable production team, Myzery only offers an enigmatic "They're cool."
So if the talent is from the streets, but the production team is more Superchunk than super-crunk, how do the collaborators manage to come together in the studio?
"I don't listen to a lot of rap," says Deckard. "I don't really know what I'm doing."
To watch the mechanics of this unlikely setup illustrates this point. The Fanatics will bring in a beat, or sometimes even the idea of a beat, and bang it out on whatever's available for Deckard, who then applies his 'more is more,' sonically dense production philosophy to the idea. The rappers will offer editing suggestions, and they then collectively pare down the whole thing into something that sounds like a saleable product. Through all of this, it seems that these two groups of people come from such different backgrounds that they speak different languages. But music is their means of communication, providing a bridge to understanding each other.
Though the music treads the fine line between hip-hop and overblown electro, the lyrics are strictly criminal. The end result is music that doesn't compromise anyone's style or desires. The Flo Fanatics' new EP, Hot as a Lamp (an expanded version of their original single), features the club track "Friday Night," a song with all the excitement of a drunken stumble through a house party, as well as "Thug Love," which spotlights the softer side of the group. Through it all, though, the production team still retains its own voice.