Her Word Is Bond

Navigating Hip Hop and Relationships in a Culture of Misogyny

Cristalle “Psalm One” Bowen

• Publisher: Haymarket Books
• Year: 2022
• ISBN:
  9781642594829
• Topic: Media & Performing Arts
• Subtopic: Music

"Nowhere near famous but still infamous, " Psalm One is a legend to rap nerds, scholars, and "heads, " and has gone on to work with the brightest names in rap and have her work celebrated and taught around the globe. In Her Word Is Bond, Psalm One tells her own story, from growing up in Englewood, Chicago through her life as a chemist, teacher, and legendary rapper. Intrinsically feminist, this story is a celebration of the life and career of one artist who blazed the trail for women in hip hop.

CHAPTER 1

TODAY WAS A GOOD YEAR

In 1993, I was attending William H. Ray Magnet School in Hyde Park in Chicago. Hyde Park is known now as the neighborhood near where the Obamas lived before they moved to the White House, but back in the ’90s it was still a very nice, historic neighborhood, a place where you could see many affluent people of color. Home to the University of Chicago, it was cheap eats and WHPK, the college radio station. I was in the eighth grade and not looking forward to high school at all. A nerd by hood standards, I wanted nothing to do with college prep. I just wanted to fast-forward to college. Only a few of my family members had gone away to college, and soon I would be among them. At that point in my life, I was big on academic praise, and high school seemed so … mean. All my older cousins had told me all these horror stories about ninth grade through twelfth grade. I wanted to skip over all that. No dice.

I’d passed the entrance test to get into Whitney M. Young Magnet High School (alma mater of many influential Chicagoans, including Michelle Obama), so that’s where I was going. My mother would have nothing less. One thing about Elaine Hegwood Bowen: She was gonna see to it that I went to a “good” school. I had no say in the matter. A lot of my friends from Ray were going to go to Kenwood High School, a few blocks away, but not me. That kinda made me nervous. I had made some good friends by eighth grade, even though I’d only attended Ray for two years. I got along with all the slick-talking nerds who finished their homework early and disrupted class. Some of the friends I made at Ray are still my friends today. I wanted to stay at that school forever. Ray was small; Young was big. I felt very small.

And teen angst was life at this point because, well, teens are normally angsty. I was a chubby kid, an only child, and I was a “smart” kid from the hood. I never felt cool, per se, but I always felt creative. Music already had its hold on me, and I was dreading going to Whitney Young. I wasn’t sure I was up to it. I blame it on House Party 2, released in 1991, starring iconic hip hop duo Kid ’n Play (Christopher Reid and Christopher Martin), Queen Latifah, a budding Martin Lawrence, and many more great Black actors. That movie made me wanna live in dorms, pick out silk numbers for pajama jammy jams, not study for the ACT, and dodge bullies in the cafeteria.

The year 1993 is a great starting point because hip-hop-ya-don’t-stop aficionados love to stamp it as one of the best years in the genre. That stance is hard to argue. Some very big, very classic hip hop albums were released in 1993. That year also boasted huge moments for pop culture, and hip hop was right there, grabbing my attention and spinning in my Sony Discman—complete with huge, obnoxious Sony headphones to let everyone know I was deeply into music.

In ’93 I was thirteen years old and hip hop was around twenty. Even though I was preparing to graduate from Ray and head to Whitney Young in the fall, my home life was pretty boring. I wasn’t really allowed to just hang out on the block for fear of violence or negative influence. Art really helped shaped most of my youth; reality was spoon-fed to me. (Again, I was severely overprotected.) My friends were at school; they didn’t live in my neighborhood. TV, people watching, and music got me through a good amount of loneliness. So let’s talk about some of the genre-and puberty-defining music that shaped this time in my life.

Ice Cube, “It Was a Good Day”

The single and accompanying music video made the West Coast look dangerous yet very cool. F. Gary Gray directed the video and would go on to direct some of my favorite movies. Leaving a decent neighborhood and moving back to Englewood in 1986 had me really disliking the ghetto, as it were. My mom and I had relocated to the house where she grew up, in Englewood, a neighborhood that would soon become arguably the worst in Chicago, after my grandfather’s death that same year. Relocating was good because I was closer to my extended family. Living on the North Side of Chicago had made commutes to see my people long and arduous. At least in Englewood I was closer to my relatives. But relocating was also bad because, well, danger. By ’93, crack and gangs were epidemics and I hated them. But Cube and Gray reminded me of how cool and plentiful the ghetto really was. When you don’t have to use your AK, it is indeed a good day.

Fun fact: Two of my best friends were allowed to recite Ice Cube’s lyrics in poetry class. Our teacher let them say the curse words and everything. That was probably the coolest thing to ever happen during my time at Ray. That’s the spirit of what I eventually brought to my own hip hop-based after-school program.

Tour poster for a Digable Planets show with support from hip hop band Abstract Giants and Psalm One.

Digable Planets, Reachin’ (A New Refutation of Time and Space)

I know this album word for word. Digable Planets’ debut single, “Rebirth of Slick (Cool Like Dat),” was a smash— and so jazzy my mom bumped the album on her own. She disliked most hip hop. To be fair, most parents at the time were utterly shocked by this pounding, vulgar music. My mom liked some stuff, like Heavy D, Run-DMC, and Kool Moe Dee, but really didn’t allow rap in the house. I had to sneak to listen to it. But Digable Planets? She let their music ride, and we often discussed their album’s merits. Discussing hip hop with my mom is still so much fun.

I played that album constantly. It was a sonically interesting record for kids like me who didn’t fully get or subscribe to gangsta or pop rap. Digable Planets was different; it showed in the samples the group rapped over. Digable Planets was groundbreaking and—wait for it—there was a woman in the group.

Ladybug is very important to the legacy of Digable Planets. She has the trippiest wordplay and the softest, yet most commanding voice. Often, she sounded better than her male counterparts, and the way she rapped moved my young soul. Having that one woman in the crew was important for little girls to see. Hearing her higher-pitched voice cut through the bass and the machismo of hip hop let me know it could be done. She was different. She stood out. Even though I know now that having one woman in a sea of men is patriarchy at play, back then, when I was a future lyrical assassin, I couldn’t care less. I didn’t see the nuance there. I didn’t understand how being the lone woman in a crew could spark a deeper conversation about exclusion. I just knew it was fucking awesome seeing Ladybug shine. The truth is, many women in hip hop go uncelebrated. That’s why, even today, I celebrate the fuck out of Ladybug Mecca.

Fun fact: I opened for Digable Planets in Chicago in November 2009. They were playing without Ladybug, which was a real bummer, but they still put on a great show. I met Doodlebug and Butterfly that night; I had the pleasure of chatting it up with Ladybug on a random visit to Oakland, California, a few years later. It’s crazy to think about being so influenced by their music and having no idea I’d meet them later in life.

Naughty by Nature, 19 Naughty III

At this point, Naughty was hot in the streets. After “O.P.P.” took off (I wasn’t allowed to sing it in the house), they followed up with an album boasting one of the biggest hip hop anthems of all time, “Hip Hop Hooray.” Play that one at a party right now, and somebody will start doing the wave during the chorus. This is a song we couldn’t escape in ’93, and nobody wanted to. Yelling “hip hop hooray” was a genius play on the old time “hip, hip, hooray” chant, which many scholars say has anti-Semitic roots—yikes—and it cemented Naughty’s anthemic capabilities.

19 Naughty III went platinum and, quiet as it’s kept, Treach is one of hip hop’s greatest lyricists. But Naughty by Nature soon went pop, and my budding hip hop elitism didn’t allow me to stick around for the ascension. I know better now than to chuck an artist just for going pop. But back then nothing was cornier than going mainstream.

Fun fact: Track eleven on 19 Naughty III is a song called “Hot Potato,” and it features Freddie Foxxx. In 2012, Foxxx played my boyfriend in the music video for my song “Open Relationship.” If y’all know anything about Freddie Foxxx (aka Bumpy Knuckles), y’all know he doesn’t fuck around. He’s one of the most feared heads in hip hop. So, you know how hilarious it is to see him in a video playing my boo. I couldn’t help but hum “Hot Potato” to myself at times during the video shoot.

A Tribe Called Quest, Midnight Marauders

I also know this album word for word. Midnight Marauders is my favorite Tribe album. I’ll argue with anyone who questions whether it’s their best effort. I still remember going to one of my first shindigs with my old friends from Ray when the music video for “Award Tour” was released. Standing around with awkward kids trying to decipher this classic hip hop and knowing it was important sticks in my mind. We knew this was some cool shit, we just didn’t know why. This was still all very new to us. Marauders is Tribe’s third album, but it was the one that hit me the hardest. The samples, the rhymes, the concept. The interludes? Flawless.

Fun fact: In 2006, I saw Tribe perform Marauders and other classic material at Bumbershoot, a Seattle-based music festival. I was touring with a group on the festival’s bill and was given all access. The festival also boasted a Kanye West performance, but in 2006 I was more interested in seeing Tribe. Gaining access to this performance and being on the wing of the stage while they performed “Electric Relaxation” to a crowd of one hundred thousand is bucket list stuff. I almost cried. I probably did cry. (RIP, PHIFE DAWG.)

Souls of Mischief, ’93 ’til Infinity

A-Plus and Psalm One at South by Southwest (SXSW), Austin, Texas, March 2014.

The title track, an era-defining classic that still slaps, is one of the biggest rap songs in history. Souls of Mischief is one of the most famous rap groups ever, and this album was prophetic. Released during the onslaught of G(angsta)-funk, the album takes a sharp turn from what we were used to hearing on the radio, especially from a West Coast group. Souls and the entire Hieroglyphics Crew were putting Oakland, and ultimately independent hip hop, on the map in a big way. Hiero gave us a long-standing, successful indie blueprint, and they have one of the most recognizable logos of all time. “’93 ’til Infinity” was inescapable, and Hiero was right about building a legacy and having longevity. This song specifically has proven time and again its significance in hip hop.

Fun fact: I was offered my first record deal by Casual of Hieroglyphics and was featured on his Smash Rockwell album.¹ That feature was my introduction to the independent–hip hop game and was my first album placement. I’ve toured with Del the Funky Homosapien and have songs² with him, too. A-Plus of Souls of Mischief coproduced my 2013 project, Free Hugs.

Nirvana, In Utero

Ok, so this ain’t hip hop, but in 1993 Nirvana was one of the biggest acts in music—period. I can’t lie. I pretended to love them at first. I was at Ray and my white friends were into them, so by default I was into them. The music video for “Smells like Teen Spirit” changed pop culture for certain. Nevermind was my JAM, and the song “Lithium” got played repeatedly for days on end. I thought I was the weirdest kid in the hood for loving that song. Nirvana’s follow-up, MTV Unplugged in New York, was also my jam. In Utero wasn’t my favorite album, but I let the tape rock because of peer pressure. “Heart-Shaped Box” was pretty dope, though. I should revisit that album with adult ears. (RIP, Kurt Cobain.)

Fun fact: Super engineer Steve Albini worked with Nirvana on In Utero, and I was privileged to work with him on a mixtape I released in 2010, Woman at Work Volume 2. I was a complete fan girl and wouldn’t stop asking Albini questions about the Nirvana sessions during my own marathon session. Even though I’m sure Albini gets really tired of people asking him questions about Nirvana, he was really nice to me and answered most of them.

Snoop Doggy Dogg, Doggystyle

DOGGYSTYLE IS THE MOST IMPORTANT DEBUT ALBUM BY A RAP ARTIST. You can argue with your creepy cousin about it. It peaked at number one on the Billboard charts in December ’93 and sold just shy of one million copies in its first week. This is when people had to leave their homes to buy albums—and I was one of those people. Snoop’s cameos on Dr. Dre tracks had me eagerly anticipating this album. Since I wasn’t allowed to listen to “vulgar” hip hop in the house, Doggystyle was relegated to my headphones. The way “Lodi Dodi” was mixed still gives me chills. I can remember being on the school bus, my Sonys pressed up against my ears, eyes closed, trying to understand why this album was such an earworm. I wanted to hear it every minute of every second of every day. I’ve been a full-on Snoop Dogg STAN since the beginning.

Snoop remains on my personal top-ten list of rappers. He has such a distinct voice and a penchant for business that’s almost unmatched. He’s said some questionable things about women in recent years, and honestly most of his discography is a calling-women-bitches fest. But fuck all that for now. When this album dropped, I changed. I was fully on board, but still wasn’t allowed to buy a Pittsburg Penguins jersey, like the one Snoop wore in the “Gin and Juice” video.

Fun fact: In 2008, I recorded a few songs at Hyde Street Studios in San Francisco. The literal only reason I wanted to record there was because Snoop allegedly recorded in one of the rooms. The session was very expensive. The song was never released.

Insane Clown Posse, Beverly Kills 50187

Say what you want about Insane Clown Posse (ICP), but you can’t say they aren’t one of the most successful rap groups of all time. I didn’t own their album in 1993. To be honest, I wasn’t aware of ICP until Eminem dissed them years later. I wasn’t a Jug...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Copyright
• Contents
• Preface
• House Rules, or Things to Consider while Reading
• Chapter 1 Today Was a Good Year
• Chapter 2 There’s No Crying in the Studio
• Chapter 3 Life in Champaign County
• Chapter 4 I’m a Rapper, Mom, Not a Whore!
• Chapter 4.5 God Ain’t Too Fond of Pretty, Either
• Chapter 5 The Perpetual One to Watch
• Chapter 6 My Bio Is Chemistry
• Chapter 7 The Rhyme Sayer with the Vagina
• Chapter 8 A Summer in San Francisco
• Chapter 9 Leopard-Print Punishment
• Chapter 10 Beaming Up Low
• Chapter 11 I, Too, Wanna Be Successful
• Chapter 12 The Unraveling
• Chapter 12.25 Running the Town with a Stolen Whip
• Chapter 13 Holograms, Polyamory, and the Rapperchicks
• Chapter 13.5 Rappers Be Dyin’, So I Wanna Be Healthy
• Chapter 14 Loud Life and the Quiet Regret
• Chapter 15 The Chicago-Takeover Plan
• Chapter 16 Manager of the Zoo
• Chapter 17 It Be Ya Own People
• Chapter 18 The Don’t-Die-in-Pilsen Challenge
• Chapter 19 Psalm One Loves You (Eternally)
• Chapter 20 Woman-Rapper Protective Services
• Epilogue
• The Psalm One Discography
• Notes
• Back Cover