If hip-hop is the folk music of the post-industrial age, then Slick Rick is its Woody Guthrie.
Born in London and raised in the Bronx, the rapper essentially invented the smooth-talking storytelling style that has inspired artists from De La Soul and Digital Underground to Snoop Dogg and Kendrick Lamar.
His witty, thoughtful verses broadened the scope of hip-hop with narratives about respecting one’s mother and catching a girlfriend’s infidelity with the postman, alongside potent lyrics addressing social deprivation and immigration.
Eminem has described himself as “a product of Slick Rick,” Jay-Z likened the star to Matisse, and Questlove called his voice “the most beautiful thing to happen to hip-hop culture.” Amy Winehouse immortalized him in the song “Me and Mr Jones.”
On Thursday, he is slated to receive a lifetime achievement prize at the Mobo Awards after performing a career-spanning set with Estelle.
Speaking from his home in New York, Slick Rick remains remarkably humble about the honor.
“That feels great, the appreciation,” he says. “Thank you, England.”
Born to Jamaican parents in Mitcham, south London, in 1965, Ricky Walters was blinded in one eye by broken glass as an infant and subsequently adopted his signature eye patch.
He emigrated with his family to the Bronx in 1976, at the age of 11. However, New York was a vastly different city at that time.
Grappling with a financial crisis, the city was rife with drugs and crime. Infrastructure was crumbling, and traveling alone was considered unwise.
“If you were poor and coming up, you were pretty much [stuck],” says Rick.
His family moved in with his grandmother, crowding into a small apartment with aunts, uncles, and cousins.
“It reminds me of the beginning of ‘Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory,’ where he has two sets of grandparents all in one bed,” he says.
“We still had fun, but when you look back, you say, ‘Wow, that was a lot of us on one mattress.'”
By chance, however, he had landed in the birthplace of hip-hop, right at its moment of conception.
“People would bring out sound systems and set them up in the parks,” he recalls.
“It drew the youth because it made you dance and have fun. I was hooked instantly.”
While attending LaGuardia High School of Music & Art, he befriended future rapper Dana Dane, and they began writing their own rhymes.
“We didn’t have instruments or nothing. We just banged on the desk. And every other day, we would write a rap to try and impress each other.”
Performing as the Kangol Crew, Rick played up his English heritage, donning regal capes and ostentatious jewelry, while referring to himself as Rick the Ruler or Richard of Nottingham.
His unique delivery – conversational and charismatic, blending Jamaican intonation with witty Britishisms and sophisticated vocabulary – was already in place. It’s a style he developed in the lively environment of his bustling Bronx home.
“As a kid, I’d tell stories and jokes in front of my uncles and aunts and see the effect on them. I was just having fun; I don’t know how to explain any better than that.”
That flow ultimately earned him the name Slick Rick, bestowed by legendary hip-hop producer Doug E. Fresh, who spotted him at an open mic night and invited him to join his Get Fresh Crew.
In 1985, they made history with the songs “The Show” and “La-Di-Da-Di,” the “greatest two-sided single since ‘Hound Dog/Love Me Tender’,” as critic Peter Shapiro later wrote in “The Rough Guide to Hip-Hop.”
Rick downplays this, describing the songs simply as the sound of two friends “playing around” and “having fun.”
“The Show” was created spontaneously, based around a drum loop and the theme song to kids’ TV show “Inspector Gadget.”
A global hit, the single reached the UK Top 10 and even landed the musicians on “Top of the Pops” – marking the first time a DJ with turntables appeared on the BBC chart show.
“La-Di-Da-Di,” meanwhile, was Rick’s calling card at rap battles, an endlessly quotable story about getting ready for a day out (he makes taking a bubble bath sound cool) before being accosted by an old flame and her mother.
It’s now the most sampled hip-hop song of all time, appearing on more than 1,000 different tracks. In 1993, Snoop Dogg covered it in its entirety on his landmark album “Doggystyle.”
“Snoop’s cover was definitely the best,” says Rick. “That was an honor.”
After signing to Def Jam Records, the rapper launched his solo career with the platinum-selling “The Great Adventures of Slick Rick.”
It further showcased the star’s ability to spin a narrative – especially on “Children’s Story,” a compellingly dark account of witnessing a teenage friend shot dead by police.
Unlike many freestyle rap hits, “Children’s Story” was planned and written with a deliberate story arc.
“I guess it’s trying to be dramatic, to give it like an adventure feel,” says Rick. “He was running down the street, the police were chasing him, he jumped into a stolen car, he hit a tree.”
“It gives it a theatricality. You can still see it, even though there’s no visual.”
By contrast, “Teenage Love” tackled affairs of the heart – an unusual move in hip-hop, where only a few rappers (LL Cool J, The Roots, Method Man) have scored hits with outright love songs.
“I guess it depends on the individual, whether he wants to express himself in that manner,” says Rick.
“It’s a broadening your horizons type of a thing. We don’t have to be one dimensional.”
“It’s good to express your childhood, when you were in high school, the first time you ever fell in love, your first heartbreak and stuff like that, and write it down like a diary.”
However, after the success of “The Great Adventures,” the musician was arrested for shooting at his cousin – a former bodyguard who had threatened the family after attempting to extort money.
Rick pled guilty to a charge of attempted murder and spent five years in prison (he was granted a full pardon in 2008).
During that time, he released two albums recorded while on bail or day release, but he generally glosses over them as unsatisfactory when discussing his career.
That’s a shame, as they contain some gems – not least “All Alone,” the heart-rending story of a young single mother whose life “never goes the way she may have wanted it to.”
Full of empathy, it’s the sort of song that led to Rick being called the “gold standard” for hip-hop lyricists. It’s a description he embraces with pride.
“I think we took novels to the next level, we took writing to the next level, because we’re talking to people’s imagination visually,” he says.
Freed from prison in 1997, he quickly got to work on his comeback album, “The Art of Storytelling” – featuring Nas, Snoop Dogg, Redman, and OutKast.
But his legal troubles weren’t over.
In 2002, he was seized by immigration officers in Miami. Threatened with deportation, he was held in prison for 17 months, with figures from Will Smith to Rev. Jesse Jackson petitioning for his release.
Those experiences fed into the song “We’re Not Losing” – a standout track on last year’s “Victory Album” – which takes aim at politicians who blame immigrants for America’s woes.
“That’s my way of venting about the errors we see in leadership,” he says.
“I feel like the world needs a moral compass, you know? A motherly [approach to] law and order, that shows compassion when she needs to, and sternness when she needs to.”
These days, Rick is a naturalized US citizen – but he’s proud to be returning to his birthplace for the Mobos, and he’s confident the lifetime achievement award marks the start of a new chapter, rather than an epilogue.
So what keeps him going, almost 50 years after he first stepped up to the mic?
“You know, the main thing is just that music enriches your existence,” he muses.
“Then you bring it to the marketplace and enrich others. But it’s really just about enriching your own life.”
The Mobo Awards take place on Thursday, with highlights shown on BBC One on Friday at 23.35 GMT.
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