A song like Luck-One’s “More” is why you have to listen to every link that lands in your inbox. Gradually layering steady handclaps, a little Roger Troutman, and strong horns over a shuffling beat, the Portland rapper exclaims, “There’s gotta be more!” But the emotion underneath the question isn’t desperate, and when you read his story, that’s remarkable indeed: Arrested and tried as an adult at age 17, he spent over half a decade in the penitentiary. Worse yet, his vocal criticism of the prison system and activism landed him in solitary confinement for over two years. The humble, wise-beyond-his-years emcee chatted with us recently about being a rapper in Oregon, playing chess in prison, and growing up with a jazz musician.

Rebecca Haithcoat: Tell me about your childhood growing up in Portland.

Luck-One: I really grew up all over the place. As a kid, you know, poor people, we move a lot, so it was never like we had a really stable thing. Portland was the one place we lived for a sustained period of time, so it’s home. My childhood was basically like any other inner city kid’s I suppose. Some good, some bad.

RH: Which parent was the jazz musician? What did you listen to? What’s the first cd you bought?

LO: My dad. He played the trumpet for years. Growing up I listened to the same stuff as most kids for the most part. Wu-Tang was popping back then so I think my first disc had to have been 36 Chambers. Aside from that I also got into Coltrane, like A Love Supreme and Satchmo sings the Disney hits (which, despite a somewhat unbecoming title, is an amazing album and I’ll stand by that till the day I die). I never really saw the two, rap and jazz, as a weird combo though. I’ve always felt like they were very much the same.

 

 

RH: What instrument did you play?

LO: I played the saxophone. Alto. Recently I picked up the guitar, but so far I suck at it pretty bad. (Laughs) I feel like it’s really important to have that musical background when you do music though. Even as a rapper, that sort of understanding can afford you a creative that gives you a whole different outlook. I think that’s the sort of thing that can make the difference between being good and being great.

RH: Does Portland feel a special amount of difficulty in trying to break onto the national hip-hop scene? Do you feel any pressure to move to L.A., for instance, in order to really “make” it?

LO: I think it’s one of those things where it’s like, it can help you, and it can hurt you. Being in Portland I feel like the competition isn’t that stiff. Not to say there isn’t a lot of talent there because there’s a grip, but mostly because there’s not a lot of people, relatively speaking of course. That being said, I’ve been able to accomplish a lot of good things within the city: really strong press, opening for some of the biggest names in the game.  In the short span of just over two years, I’ve been able to mold myself into a go-to guy of sorts. Now, the trick is not to become complacent. Cause who are we kidding? You can kill it in Oregon forever, and still never “make it.” Recently I made the move to Seattle, just trying to sort of replicate what I’ve done in Portland and make it more of a regional thing. After I do it here I’m thinking then would be a good time to set my sights on LA, or Miami…something like that. Take it national.

RH: Do you feel a stigma is  attached to the “conscious rapper” tag?

LO: Of course. People act like just because you choose not to rap about shooting people you never have. It’s really interesting. You take guys like Talib Kweli, who are from Flatbush, Brooklyn and just decide he’s not “hood” because he chooses to articulate something other than the same crass message. I could lament the shortcomings of the tag interminably, but in reality, I’m just glad people are listening. Really though, who am I to complain if people’s perception of me is somewhat skewed?

RH: What was your initial response to your sentence, and if it changed over the course of serving it, when?

LO: Well, originally, I was extremely devastated, you know? You take a seventeen-year- old kid and tell him he’s gonna serve the next half a decade in prison, it’s not really a good feeling. But as time progressesd I really began to see the possibilities in what at first seemed to just be a hopeless situation. You know, it’s funny. The things we run from the most sometimes can turn out to be the most transformative experiences. Such was the case with my incarceration.

RH: A song like “Coulda Been Me” is pretty hopeful and grateful for a man with the life you’ve already had. When did you realize and make that choice to be positive?

LO: Uhh, I’m not entirely sure. There really was no “moment,” man. Like in the movies when they have that scene with the dramatic music playing and it pans to a wide shot or whatever. I really just feel like who I am, and who I am becoming is just the product of the sum total of my experiences. It’s still a work in process.

RH: What happens, mentally and emotionally, in solitary confinement? I hear in your music a man much older than you are, and I’m assuming it’s because of the self-discipline you must’ve had to impose during that time.

LO: Hmmm. A lot of chess. I can tell you that. A LOT of chess. I did, of course, a bunch of thinking…reading. Some people, you know, they go crazy. Literally. There was this little Persian dude two cells down to me who tried to kill himself by swan diving off of his sink. What’s the cause? Who knows? People aren’t really socialized in this society to be by themselves for sustained periods of time like that. It wasn’t easy, yet at the same time I definitely came to the most profound insights I’ve ever had during some of those periods in isolation. Those experiences taught me a few things. One is that the human capacity to adapt is well nigh without limitation. The other is that you simply have to find the silver lining in the cloud. Without optimism you miss out on some of the most crucial opportunities.

RH: What language did you teach yourself?

LO: Spanish. Well, Mexican. (Laughs)

RH: What’s the origin of your stage name?

LO: Believe it or not, that’s actually a secret. But I will share with you this: it’s an acronym.

RH: Since you studied marketing, how do you plan to chart your career path?

LO: Wow. That’s quite a question. There’s a lot I want to accomplish, and there’s a lot of work to be done. From a marketing stand point, it’s really about hitting it from every angle; street promo, web promo, press…everything. At the same time, while I want it all, my name up in lights and all that, I’m understanding that in order to get there without getting burned,  it’s really important to be able to find some solace in the process of arriving there. It’s not so much contentment as it’s just being able to be at peace with where I’m at right now. Without that sort of balance all my elaborate marketing plans don’t mean much.

RH: What’s been the highlight of your career so far?

LO: Man, I did this show in Miami in Fall ’09. It was at a college so we weren’t really expecting much as far as fanfare and whatnot, I mean, we were rocking at lunch time in the cafeteria you know, so nothing glamorous, you feel me? Anyway, I was halfway through my set, and I did the Coolax and this kid in the front, he had on this black Yankees brim and as I was doing the song I looked down and realized he was singing all the lyrics. Blew my mind man. I mean, here I am thousands of miles away from home and this kid…he knows the words. Career high for sure. I think it wasn’t until then that I really began I to really get how powerful this music really is.

RH: Where can people catch you live and how can people keep up with you?

LO: Man, I got mad shows coming up. I’ll be at SXSW in March. Other than that I’ll be up here in the Northwest from the Seattle down to Bend rocking everything. You can get all the updates on show dates on my website www.luckoneconscious.com. Or follow me on twitter @luckone, and you can also search for me on Facebook under Luck-One Conscious (of Seventh Science). ‘Preciate the love. Peace to the righteous.