NAUGHTY BY NATURE: FROM LEFT: KAY GEE, TREACH AND VIN ROCK

For the generation who had the dubious fortune to be raised in the early to mid-1990s, New Jersey’s Naughty By Nature represent a funny juxstaposition. Treach, Vin Rock and DJ/producer Kay Gee remind us of simpler times, when one’s biggest concern was having enough money to buy a beef patty at lunchtime, while also slowly learning how to put stickers on the back of unsuspecting babes’ pants. After reconciling with Kay Gee, the group have recently hit the studio to record a new album, Anthem Inc. I spoke with member Vin Rock, who seemed nice. You might, however, want to keep his partner away from pet stores.

Can you tell me about Treach and friends allegedly releasing vermin in the Tommy Boy offices?
Snakes and rats, yes. Naughty By Nature is the reason why, in the record industry now, [artists] have 360 deals. These days, the record companies are losing so much money that when they sign somebody, they’re signing them to a 360 deal, meaning they want your records, they want part of your publishing, part of your merchandising. If you’re gonna have a film career, they want part of that. If you want to open a lemonade stand, they want part of it. Everything you’re doing. We started that.

When we got put on, we were, like, “Vinnie, you’re running the merchandise and fan relations. Treach, you’re running the film company. Kay Gee, you’re gonna run the record label.” We started that, and we were the first artists to do it in that capacity with all that momentum we had. Next thing you know, every other artist started following suit. When we put out our second album, we went to [our record label] Tommy Boy and said, “hey, we have our merchandise and we want to put pictures of that in the insert,” and they tried to charge us per CD printed. We were, like, “Are you out of your mind, yo? This is our gig. You’re not gonna cut into our money.” Treach got upset. He said, “you know what? Y’all a bunch of snakes and rats.” And he gave ’em some snakes and rats in the office. There was a pet shop right downstairs from the record label, so the rats were nice and healthy and well-fed.

Your sound is accessible, yet at the same time gritty. How did that come about?
All of that came from Kay Gee. His family are from New Jersey but his extended family are from North Carolina, and he would take these trips back and forth. His father would play all sorts of music for him, and that’s where he got his flavour from. So as he started producing, he kind of channeled back into his childhood memories of songs he listened to, so that’s where he got the Michael Jackson from, the Boney M stuff, just that diverse feel. It was innocent at the time. We didn’t know it would translate to be such pop and a commercial-sounding feel.

Do you have any guests on Anthem, Inc?
Right now we have Jaheim and Anthony Hamilton on the album.

No Chris Brown?
Nah. That boy definitely made a big mistake. Chris is still young yet. I’m sure he’s worked hard for his success, but I don’t believe he came up in the same situation as us. Everyone’s been kissing his butt, saying “Oh, you’re so great.” You pump a boy’s ego so much, he’ll feel like he can’t do any wrong, like you must obey his every command. They sort of create this monster. It takes him to be checked by everybody else, by society to say, “Just as much as we big you up, we can also basically treat you like O.J.”  

As musicians, how important is having a second career?
For us, side careers have been everything. Besides the other ventures we’ve done, like the film company and the record company and the clothing stuff, our personal investments and real estate [have] in the long run been the best investment out of everything.

Were you excited when VH1 approached you to participate in the Hip-Hop Honors show?
For VH1 to put us in that class, among hip-hop’s elite, that’s a great honour. Unfortunately in this business, as soon as someone gets half a hit, people call each other legends, pioneers, the Don of this or that — we never did that. Any of that should be bestowed by the people or hip-hop peers. The people call you what you are. If you’re an asshole, as you walk down the street, you will hear the whispers: “asshole, asshole, asshole.”