ODB - ODB Mom Interview [2007]

Cherry Jones: Return to the 36 Chambers (The Clean Version)

by Chris Thomas

May 14, 2007

Though it’s been several years since his untimely passing, Hip-Hop has yet to find another Ol’ Dirty Bastard. In fact, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say the odds of ever finding him again are slim-to-none. Name another rapper who bumrushed The Grammys, allegedly got held up by Diddy’s goons, then saved a little girl from being crushed to death—all in the same week. There truly was no father to his style, in the booth or out in the world—but there was a mother.

Just in time for Mother’s Day, AllHipHop.com caught up with Ms. Cherry Jones to see how she’s coped with the loss of her son, and to explore the murky details surrounding the late rapper’s estate. Though she’s endured a public feud with his former wife, and has been burdened with the debts he accumulated, she carries herself forward with dignity, grace, and a sense of humor not unlike Dirty’s. Sitting down with her in her Brooklyn Brownstone, one gets the sense that much of his talent came directly from his mama. Whether it’s the way she laughs, or how she bats her eyes when she smiles, you’re left with the impression that a part of Ol’ Dirty is still alive and kicking in spirit. And while it hasn’t been an easy coping with the loss, Ms. Jones is determined to carry on and survive, sadly, without the support of her son’s fellow members of the Wu-Tang Clan.

AllHipHop.com: I actually read an interview from The Village Voice and the writer paraphrased you saying that your son didn’t like having you backstage. Why?

Cherry Jones: He didn’t want me in the music industry, period. He knew it was a cruel world, and he can’t be onstage and take care of me at the same time. [He said] “Mama, I don’t want you involved in the business,” but I told him the last time he came out [of jail] that I was going to be in the business so he could have something. We he was with Wu-Tang, he had nothing. [Laughs] Nothing. Everything he wanted for he had to go and beg. He had to fight them for a dollar bill.

AllHipHop.com: So, even off of [Return to the 36 Chambers: The Dirty Version], he had to fight for his fair share of the profits?

Cherry Jones: He had to fight for everything, you know, beg: “I need a couple dollars here.” It takes time to make money in the music industry. Rusty was never rich. He just made enough money to survive and take care of his child support. He was never able to buy a home. He was never able to buy his mother a home. He was rich inside; whatever he had, he gave, but I never was able to sit down [and live off of him]. I told him “I could buy him a house.” [Laughs]

AllHipHop.com: What did you do to support yourself?

Cherry Jones: I worked for NYPD—I was a corrections officer. I did everything. I was driving the buses in Manhattan; I started that job when I was 59. I’ll be 61 in July. I could never stop working. [Even] now, I don’t have a penny. When he died, his wife never lived with him, but she walked in and poof [took all available money for herself]. But I retire next year, so I ain’t gonna worry.

AllHipHop.com: He was quite prolific as an artist. What would you say were some of the things you instilled in him as a little kid?

Cherry Jones: Never forget who you came from. A lot of these entertainers get up there and think they’re too good to stop and even speak to you. I told him not to forget where you came from, because the same people you meet going up, you meet going down. Always take the time to stop and say hello. He used to go downtown and feed the poor. He never had a [driver’s license], so he’d be on the train and the bus [Laughs].

AllHipHop.com: I didn’t know that he had an expensive taste in clothes. Where’d he get that from?

Cherry Jones: He always had that because I didn’t put anything cheap on them when they were children. I taught him that if you buy something of good quality, it’ll go down the line; I had seven kids. If I bought something good, I could pass that down to the next child, and the next child…and that’s what I did. I told him to never put no cheap shoes on your feet; you buy a good shoe. I instilled that in him, thank goodness, because his wife used to tell me she’d go to Payless—and he hated that. He hated it, so he’d go and do all the shopping. He’d buy her clothes, his clothes and all the kids’ clothes.

AllHipHop.com: What would you say your relationship is with her? I can sense a little tension.

Cherry Jones: I haven’t seen her since the funeral. I never did anything to her. But she takes time to go on Wendy Williams and threaten my life and stomp my brains out so, I left everything in the hands of God. I didn’t understand [the falling out]. We were friends until the day he died.

AllHipHop.com: So, what happened?

Cherry Jones: He was signed to a million-dollar deal [with Roc-A-Fella Records]. She thought she was gonna get the million dollars. She’s too ignorant to know that he didn’t get nowhere near that money anyway; Damon Dash never paid him. If he had lived, he probably would have got his money, you know, but he was never paid. She thought that all that money was gonna go to her, but she ain’t know that all the money that was paid to him was going towards making the album. [Laughs] So she told the world that I robbed a million dollars from Dirty.

AllHipHop.com: But, obviously, you don’t have that.

Cherry Jones: Have what? [Laughs] I don’t have a penny. A lot of times I walk to Downtown Brooklyn. I don’t even have [cab] fare. Dirty bought an expensive car for $80,000 and I’m paying for it through the help of my mom and my father-in-law. Dirty bought it for his friend and I’m not gonna let his friend go down so, every month I’m looking to make a payment. He bought it in October…he died in November. It’s a Chrysler 300 Hemi Special Edition with wood trim inside and everything. If I had [that million dollars], wouldn’t it have been paid for? When I finish paying for it, I’m gonna try and put it on eBay and sell it to pay off some of his taxes and stuff. We he came out [of jail] I had power-of-attorney. They put my name on everything he bought. Things will work out, though. I ain’t got time to worry about it. You worry about it, you get old-looking. You get bags under your eyes…I ain’t even worried about it. [Laughs]

AllHipHop.com: You don’t even look 61, by the way. I’m not even saying that to butter you up.

Cherry Jones. Thank you. [Laughs] If he was alive, I wouldn’t have to worry about anything because he took care of his mother. But the wife [messed things up]. She actually told the courts that she wanted everything. Like Dirty wasn’t going to take care of his mother! So, if he gave me any money while he was living with me, she wanted that back. I think that’s sick.

AllHipHop.com: Where is she living now?

Cherry Jones: In Georgia. She just had a baby with this guy she’s been with for a long time. She wanted all my [RIAA] plaques. I told her, “Come here and try to take them.” You can’t take nothing from me. Everything I have, he put in my hands. He said, “Mommy, this is for you.” If he wanted you to have it, he would’ve said, “Here wifey, this is for you.”

AllHipHop.com: The RZA and Dirty were cousins. He’s your nephew. Do you talk to him often?

Cherry Jones: I don’t. They don’t call you. The last time I saw RZA was out in Cali at Rock The Bells. He didn’t pay for my ticket, he didn’t invite me. Chang [The concert’s promoter] set me up to go out there. He had nothing to do with it. Other people arrange for me to go places. The VH1 Hip-Hop [Honors]? My girlfriend told me about it. He didn’t tell me anything.

AllHipHop.com: Is anyone from the group staying in touch with you?

Cherry Jones: No. Not one of them.

AllHipHop.com: Now, could that just be a case of “Out of sight, Out of mind?”

Cherry Jones: They don’t contact me on anything. They might be busy, I don’t know. But when it comes to family, pick up the phone. I don’t have their number—

I had RZA’s number, but I guess with so many people calling him, he changed it, you know. He gets me aggravated. Every time you call him, he thinks you want something. I never asked him for nothing. Well, I asked him one time to help me with Dirty’s car and he said he didn’t have nothing so, I’ve been doing it on my own ever since Dirty died. I ain’t gonna ask you but one time. It’s hard, but I’m hanging in there.

AllHipHop.com: He really was larger than life, in a lot of ways…

Cherry Jones: Oh, yes. Yes, he was. Even now, when Wu-Tang’s on stage, people scream, “Dirty, Dirty, Dirty!” It makes you feel good. It really does.

Allhiphop.com: Jay-Z too. I saw him in concert last summer and he had the crowd singing “Brooklyn Zoo.”

Cherry Jones: Oh, wow! I really like that. You know, they never really got along…

Allhiphop.com: Really? Why?

Cherry Jones: ‘Cause Dirty [was] like that. He wanted to be the front-and-center. If you up there singing, he’d go up there and take the show. He was always like that. I’d tell him, “That’s not nice.” He didn’t care. [When he was on the lam], he’d put a hoodie on and go “I gotta get outta here because they gonna lock me up.” I said, “Boy, you stupid.” Then he goes in McDonald’s [In Philadelphia and gets arrested]. They told him to stay in the car, but he comes out and says “They locked me up.” You walked in and they locked you up? [Laughs]

AllHipHop.com: You know, I was watching the Grammy incident last nite. He was very calm and professional when he took the mic…

Cherry Jones: Rage Against The Machine said, “Wouldn’t nobody do it but Dirty.” They said they loved it! I said, “All of y’all are stupid.” I said it [to Dirty] “It wasn’t nice of you to do that, either. Don’t you ever do that again in your life. I’ll tear your head up.” [Laughs] He was sober, you know…

AllHipHop.com: Really?

Cherry Jones: Really. On the way there, a limousine came and picked us up. He stopped at almost every corner and bought little bottles of water. He had nothing to drink that night. Nothing at all. So when he went up there, I felt bad, but I said “At least the boy is sober.” Puffy’s people had him hemmed up by the neck. His henchmen ain’t gonna hem up my doggone son. I said, “It’s time for me to fight.” He said, “Calm down mommy, everything is gonna be okay.” If Rusty don’t wanna fight, you know he’s sober! His bodyguards had him by the throat down there because of the comment he made: “Puffy’s good, but Wu-Tang’s the best.” After seeing him like that, I said, “Boy, he really need a drink!” [Laughs]

AllHipHop.com: Were there any moments you were proud of in particular?

Cherry Jones: When he got to The Garden, I went. He was with Mariah Carey. He bought me a great big bouquet of flowers and, it was so nice. I was so proud of him that night. He had no clothes; the clothes they brought him were too small, so he stripped Poppa Wu [his cousin] right out of his clothes. He really did. Then he went on stage and the kids loved him. [Mariah] didn’t go on stage with him because he had just came in off tour. He came straight from the plane into The Garden. He didn’t have time to rehearse with her, so she didn’t sing with him. He went on the stage and rocked the house without her. He said, “Screw her!” [Laughs]. I said, “Boy, you stupid!” He was fantastic.

AllHipHop.com: I’m about to ask you a dumb question, but, how’d it feel when you first heard the news?

Cherry Jones: I lost my mind. What bothered me the most was, they had called me, and they hadn’t even called the ambulance. They said, uh, “Dirty’s on the floor and we’re not getting a response.” I started screaming, “Why don’t y’all call the damn ambulance?” He’d probably been dead a long time…that’s why they never called…I don’t know…I don’t know. Dirty lived a life he wanted to live. He was about to go on tour and he said to me, “Mom, this is the last time you’re gonna see me.” He said he was going to Mexico. I told him that, “If you go, give your mother a call and tell me that you’re okay.” He never got a chance to call because he…died in the studio. The RZA sent a limo to pick him up. He got off the plane on a Friday and died on a Saturday. He had cocaine in his system, and when he was on tour, he fell off the stage and [surgically] had pins placed in his foot which was very painful. So, when he got to the studio, he asked for a painkiller like Tylenol and they gave him something much stronger, like Tramadol. With the coke, it’s a deadly mixture, that’s what the medical examiner told me…he had a smile on his face, though…. I used to wash him and put him in his clothes…that was my boy. When he told me, “This is the last time you’re gonna see me,” maybe he felt something, you know? But…I enjoyed every day of his life.

ODB - Ol' Dirty Bastard Dead [2004]

ODB - Ol' Dirty Bastard Dead

by Nolan Strong

November 12, 2004

Wu-Tang Clan member Ol’ Dirty Bastard passed away today (November 13).

While details are sketchy, sources told AllHipHop.com that the rapper collapsed and died in a Manhattan recording studio.

Ol' Dirty had complained of chest pains, but the cause of death was not immediatley known.

The rapper was two days shy of reaching his 36th birthday.

An autopsy will be conducted Sunday officials said.

Jones was in 36 Records when he said he was having trouble breathing and collapsed.

An ambulance was summoned to the 5th floor where Jones had collapsed near a pool table.

Paramedics tried, but could not resuscitate the rapper.

"This evening I received a phone call that is every mothers worst dream. My son Russell Jones passed away," ODB's mother Cherry Jones said. "To the public he was known as Ol Dirty Bastard but to me he was known as Rusty."

Mrs. Jones labeled her son the most generous soul on earth and expressed gratitude for the outpouring of support.

"Russell was more then a rapper he was a loving father, brother, uncle and most of all son," Mrs. Jones added.

"All of us in the Roc-A-Fella family are shocked and saddened by the sudden and tragic death of our brother and friend, Russell Jones, Ol' Dirty Bastard," Roc-A-Fella CEO Dame Dash said. "Russell inspired all of us with his spirit, wit, and tremendous heart. He will be missed dearly, and our thoughts, prayers and deepest condolences go out to his wonderful family. The world has lost a great talent, but we mourn the loss of our friend."

The eight other members of the veteran rap group appeared at The Theater at the Continental Airlines Arena for their first joint East Coast appearance in five years, where Ol' Dirty was scheduled to perform.

Sources said the rapper failed to appear for unknown reasons.

One of the founding members of the Wu-Tang Clan, the 35-year-old helped lay down the foundation for some of the most influential Hip-Hop in history.

He brought an air of humor to the macho world of rap, yet maintained enough integrity to be taken serious amongst a fickle Hip-Hop audience.

The Brooklyn born rapper was featured on Wu-Tang’s groundbreaking album, Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers).

Shortly afterwards, he was shot in the stomach by another rapper during an argument on the street in Brooklyn.

He recovered and released the classic Return to the 36 Chambers: The Dirty Version, which spawned the hit singles "Brooklyn Zoo" and "Shimmy Shimmy Ya," which powered the album to gold status.

In 1998 the rapper further solidified his place in Hip-Hop history. That year, he rushed out of a recording studio to help save the life of a four-year-old girl who had been hit by a car and was trapped underneath.

The next day he appeared at the Grammy Awards and rushed the stage during Shawn Colvin’s acceptance speech for her Grammy Award winning song “Sunny.”

Dressed in a red suit, the rapper told the crowd that Wu-Tang shouldn’t have lost their Grammy to Sean “P. Diddy” Combs and then uttered the now famous words: “Wu-Tang is for the children.”

In 1998 he was shot again in Brownsville, Brooklyn, after two robbers pushed their way into his girlfriend's apartment. The bandits stole money and jewelry and shot ODB once. The bullet entered his back and went through his body, all superficial wounds.

After being treated in a New York emergency room, he ignored doctor’s warnings and left the hospital.

He was arrested several more times the following year for various charges, including threatening bouncers at the House of Blues in Los Angeles and for lounging on his balcony in the nude in Berlin, Germany. No charges were filed in that case.

Later that year, he was arrested and charged with attempted murder, after police claimed he jumped out of his car and started shooting at them. Those charges were dismissed when the police failed to present credible evidence.

In October of 2000, the rapper was almost finished a stint in rehab when he made a run for it, spending a month as a fugitive, during which time he performed at the Hammerstein Ballroom in front of hundreds of stunned fans.

He left the premise that evening but was captured a short time later in Philadelphia, singing autographs in a McDonald's parking lot.

He was extradited to New York, where he stood trial. In April of 2001, he received a sentence of two to four years in state prison.

After emerging triumphantly from jail and rehab, the rapper inked a deal with Roc-A-Fella Records in May of 2003.

I'm happy to be here,” Ol' Dirty said at the press conference. “I thought I wasn't gonna be able to touch another microphone. I'm happy my eyes are still open."

The rapper also had launched his own clothing line, Dirty Wear.

The news comes as Hip-Hop community was mourning the passing of another rapper, Mac Dre, who was shot to death in Kansas City.

ODB - Unpublished Interview [2003]

Old Dirty Bastard - Unpublished AllHipHop.com Interview with ODB

by Simagine, AllHipHop.com

May 23, 2003

There was no figuring out Ol’ Dirty Bastard. Was he a wily Hip-Hop jester or a tragically misunderstood apostle of the Wu-Tang Clan? Both scenarios, and all points in between, are debatable, but what is certain is that his deeds were legendary. Whether it be saving a child pinned underneath a car in front of a studio or bumrushing the stage at the 1998 Grammy Awards after Diddy won the award for Best Rap Album [Admit it, the Clan did get jerked], we all watched with equal parts trepidation and amusement.

I was blessed to speak to Dirt McGirt shortly after his release from prison. The good folks at [Elemental Magazine], asked me to interview him for one of their cover stories commemorating, at the time, their pending 50th issue. Dirty was cautious with his answers at first, as he was with the photographer, but as the interview progressed he warmed up and became more revealing. It’s obvious he was a man strong in his convictions. It’s a shame he didn’t live to see his career get back on track before he passed away on November 13, 2004. Though an autopsy later found he had a lethal mix of prescribed painkillers and cocaine in his system, his legacy is that of a storied figure in Hip-Hop history. Here is that fateful interview which occurred at Rocawears’s Fashion District offices, sometime in late May, 2003.

AllHipHop.com: When’s the last time you recorded?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: [The] last time I recorded was yesterday. As soon as I got out, I went to the studio the next day.

AllHipHop.com: Were you’re skills rusty at all?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: That is my name, Rusty, so I don’t know if I’m rusty or not.

AllHipHop.com: What’s the difference between Dirt McGirt and Ol’ Dirty?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: It’s just new style, old style. Ol’ Dirty is raw and crazy, rugged, ya know, ghetto. Ol’ Dirty is the one who makes things crazy in Hip-Hop. I catch all types of peoples’ minds and Dirt McGirt is just the new style. Being able to be on point with the music, how music is made now.

AllHipHop.com: You mentioned earlier you’re not trying to be funny this year?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: Yeah, I mean, just trying to get money and s**t. Things that’s funny, I leave to the side. I’m trying to be serious and s**t. ‘Cause Wu-Tang is serious. I am the crazy [one]…making people laugh and s**t, out the crew. Maybe this year, I don’t know, I just got a serious state of mind right now.

AllHipHop.com: A lot of times your skills on the mic get ignored and people focus on your personality, is that frustrating?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: No, it’s not. Whatever, you feel me? I don’t know if it’s annoying. I thought it was all beautiful. That’s how I look at it.

AllHipHop.com: How is it being be down with Roc-A-Fella?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: It’s cool. They alright; they in my corner, so I’m in they corner.

AllHipHop.com: You’ve been gone these last two years, how did they treat you?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: Terrible.

AllHipHop.com: Terrible, like worse than the average [inmate]?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: Yes.

AllHipHop.com: How did you make it through?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: I made it through with a white man. One white man, he just said, “Come on, let me get you somewhere safe. And let me get you somewhere where…ya know correction officers [aren’t] holding guns and weapons and s**t, where you can get harmed at.” The white man’s name was Robert, and he said don’t worry I’ma help you and he got me out of there. I was in an unsafe place where the government is trying to kill me at, and all kinds of s**t was going on – s**t that I don’t really need to talk about. I’ll keep it to myself. It don’t make no sense talking about it anyway because everybody act like they motherf**kin’ blind to the truth. As long as they blind to the truth… and I don’t see how you can be close to Jesus if you blind to the truth… but that’s cool…anyway, but I’m out man, and I’m just making hits.

AllHipHop.com: It seems like you’ve been persecuted more than the average rapper?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: Yeah, they picked on me for little, small s**t. They shot up my truck before. It’s just when they…I figure when they see Ol’ Dirty Bastard they think that I’m a ghetto gun slinger [or] some type of bad influence. But I’m not. What I am is just who I am, and that’s it.

AllHipHop.com: A bunch of your incidents have been the result of people coming at you, do you watch your back more closely because of that?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: I don’t watch my back outside no more. Whatever is going to happen is going to happen. I watch my back inside. I’m trying to stay out of that prison ‘cause that s**t ain’t the move. They got orders to kill motherf**kers how they talkin’. I’m just trying to stay away from that way of life.

AllHipHop.com: How do you plan to stay away?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: Being sober. Following appointments. Doing etcetera, etcetera.

AllHipHop.com: Are you on any medication at all?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: Nah, I’m not on medication.

AllHipHop.com: How’s your family doing?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: The family is okay, they cool. Everybody’s cool. Just trying to something right for them once upon a time.

AllHipHop.com: Did they support you while you were away?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: Nobody supports Dirty but Dirty. Dirty is just a self-contained unit. And that’s who support Dirty, it’s Dirty. And Roc-A-Fella.

AllHipHop.com: What about the Wu?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: What about the Wu? If you want to say they support me, then f**k it, [then] say they support me.

AllHipHop.com: What’s the music you’re making now going to reveal about you?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: Basically, it’s going to show that I got pizzaz. It’s going to show what the street is about. It’s going to show many things. It’s going to be hot, man. I don’t really like to detail the s**t; it’s going to be that s**t that n***as missed. Ol’ Dirty got a voice that people like to hear. I’m the loudmouth of rap. Ya know, they need that s**t. It’s going to be back again.

AllHipHop.com: Is there anything you would have done differently in your career thus far?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: Looking back on it, maybe. On some of my songs I was supposed to come calm. That’s how I’m going to do now, calm and angry.

AllHipHop.com: Where’s the anger coming from?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: Just through the vocals. That crazy Ol’ Dirty Bastard style that people love, just being ODB, period.

AllHipHop.com: Poppa Wu was telling me that you had to go through trials and tribulations…
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: I just wish I wasn’t f**king with them drugs. That’s the biggest mistake of my life, is drugs. That’s what kills motherf**kas. When they say drugs kill, they don’t play. I don’t know about OD’ing and s**t like that, but I know that drugs do kill. I just wish I wasn’t on drugs back in the day. Drinking, liquor, ya know what I’m saying, ‘cause it changes me. It makes me…I’m a party animal anyway. I’m a party animal when I drink [laughing]. I know how to put myself in tune with any kind of music you put on and just love music. I sing my raps. People love that s**t. It’s a different style. You got Jay-Z, his style. You got Ol’ Dirty Bastard, his style. You got Snoop Dogg, his style, you got 50 [Cent], his style, and you got Wu-Tang, they styles. I just got that style that’s needed.

AllHipHop.com: So you’re trying to fill a void that’s missing?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: Something is missing, definitely. Everything is suave to me now, ya feel me? When you hear Hip-Hop beats, the s**t that makes your head bop and you feel it in your bones. You don’t feel it in your bones no more. Because everybody just getting suave. I mean it’s cool, but I know when I like to be in the motherf**kin club, and they put on s**t like [starts beat boxing Biz Markie’s “Nobody Beats the Biz”], that s**t make your head…you moving in a way that you catching cramps and s**t! Nowadays, they ain’t doing that s**t. Everybody just dancing, dancing to party, they just dancing to party, and I noticed that s**t. So that’s where Ol’ Dirty comes in at. Ol’ Dirty, ya know, it’s like… I don’t want to talk about it, man, I just want that flavor to remain the same. I don’t want nothing to change. If it change, I want it to change for the better of the future. But if that’s the s**t, I want my s**t to be where n***a’s head bop to the s**t.

AllHipHop.com: Is there anybody current that you think still has some of that?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: I don’t know, man. I ain’t hear it yet. That’s what’s missing. I’m trying to find that producer that has that type of s**t, and it’s hard, man. Other than that though, music is good anyway. The music that’s playing is good; I like it. I like how Bad Boy get down for raw, them n***as don’t play. And Wu-Tang don’t play. That’s why I joined with Roc-A-Fella. Because Roc-A-fella, they abstract, they the future to me. They got sounds that my ears like to hear. I love Jay-Z’s [work], his s**t is banging. So I said let me connect with these motherf**kers, man, so I can have some banging s**t. ‘Cause n***as know Wu-Tang, so I saw, what if I take Wu-Tang and put it with Roc-A-Fella? That s**t would probably really slam. That’s what I did man.

AllHipHop.com: Do you still feel like you can trust a label ever since Elektra released you?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: I don’t know if they turned they back on me. I don’t know what the f**k happened. What happened, happened. Whatever. ODB can walk up in any motherf**kin’ offices and get a motherf**kin’ job. But I choose Roc-A-fella because they got it going on and s**t.

AllHipHop.com: At this point, do you feel as comfortable now in the direction your career is about to head?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: I feel as comfortable as I can get. N***as like me, we struggle and s**t, for this money and s**t. Like Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang is the scientists of rap. There’s nothing Wu-Tang can’t break down. There’s no wall Wu-Tang can’t break down. I don’t know, it’s like the people recognize it… I don’t know man some of these companies, man, they bug out on me and s**t. They do s**t halfway instead of doing it the full way. That’s it, man.

AllHipHop.com: So is Roc-A-Fella going to be able to do the job?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: I hope so.

AllHipHop.com: How are your children doing?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: I keep in contact with them.

AllHipHop.com: How much are they a part of your life?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: A lot of it, that’s it.

AllHipHop.com: Do you try to provide for them?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: Yeah.

AllHipHop.com: From what you’re saying it seems like the authorities are really out to get you?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: All I know is some moves and s**t is going down. They out to get that motherf**ker. I just gotta watch my back. Certain places I go. Certain things I do. I’m on parole now. The parole officer acting funny and s**t. He act like he down ‘cause he ain’t down, ya feel me? You can detect when a motherf**ker’s down and when he ain’t really down. It’s a whole organization of that s**t. I know it was only one Moses and he was in The Bible and he had at least 1500 n***as after him. Thousands, so, I guess it’s the same way but not exactly the same way. You can catch me in the street. Put it this way, I’m just here to make records and sell them s**ts, period.
I got my eyes open. As long as I’m making money, I don’t give a f**k, ‘cause it comes and goes any f**king way. As long as I’m able to buy me homes and cars and save money up for the kids, that’s all that matters to me. That’s why I’m trying to enterprise in different things, be on top of things. And that’s it, man.

AllHipHop.com: The Dirt McGirt everyone sees on MTV or BET, how much of that is Russell Jones behind private doors?
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: It’s the same s**t. Russull Jones, Dirt McGirt, they both have the same f**king meaning: “One Man Army Ason.” That’s the meaning. “Never been tooken out, keep MCs looking out.” It’s like I just want to take it from one spot and move it to another spot like I’m f**king with the computer.

AllHipHop.com: You’re quoting “Brooklyn Zoo,” when you break down every line it’s real technical…
Ol’ Dirty Bastard: That’s just Unique Ason, man. That’s just being frustrated, angry at the crowd, and ya know just kicking lyrics and s**t. I want to make another one like that. I’m just incorporating an album, I’ma put different style to it. “Brooklyn Zoo” actually was the song that opened the door for black people to become famous in rap. Because you don’t get nobody yelling on them motherf**kin’ records. When I made that album, they told me, “We don’t want you yellin’, we don’t want you doing this.” I mean, that’s how it was back in the days. They’ll tell you we want your album like this, we want your album like that. But I told them motherf**kers, I said, “[If] you don’t put that s**t out how it is, f**k y’all, don’t put it out! I’m not changing s**t. Who the f**k is you to tell Ol’ Dirty Bastard how to make a motherf**kin’ record?” That’s how my mind was locked in. And it still is locked in that way. Now I take conversation and suggestions now to blend in with Hip-Hop as the world turns and that’s about it man. “Brooklyn Zoo” is the baddest Hip-Hop, gangsta [song] out. That s**t take anything. That Mobb Deep and motherf**kin’ Method Man, “M-E-T-H-O-D Man!” Those the s**ts right there, and that’s it, man. What I’m telling you people is Wu-Tang Clan is coming after you, best to protect your neck, it was ten years ago that we moved it like a computer, like I told you, to ten years [later] now, in the future. So imagine how we coming. We coming s**tty dog on you. So just go in the stores and quietly and kindly yell, “Give me Dirty’s s**t,” and the magic will be done. And you play it in your car stereos, baby.

ODB - Angel With Dirty Wings [2004]

Angel with Dirty Wings

by Lee Henderson

November 16, 2004

The Ol' Dirty Bastard brought impressionism to rap. His rap style was a kind of scarily funny addict-talk. It verged on nonsense, but it was too familiar to be a joke. Many critics felt he wasn't serious enough. He was born in 1968 and raised into the New York crack epidemic. I don't mean to belittle the fact that O.D.B. was apparently an addict himself. I'm sure he knew the difference between the drug and the art, and I think we do too. What I mean to say is that the Wu-Tang Clan expressed the tragedy of circumstance they faced in Staten Island, and each of them introduced us to a striking and undeniably charismatic persona of the ghetto life, and that was O.D.B.'s.

Some personas, like GZA's genius, RZA's realism, and Raekwon the entrepreneur, were easy to explain in a nutshell. The O.D.B.? "There ain't no father to his style," as Method Man famously put it on the Wu-Tang Clan's 1993 debut Enter the Wu-Tang. And true that, because until his generation, the world didn't know crack. And crack has its own aesthetic, for sure. That clumsy, itchy and scratchy character, O.D.B. put on that mask to prove that creativity and ingenuity survives even under this terrible form of oppression. Oppression? A moment of silence as we all consider the American Health Care system under Republicans, no one wants to take better care of the poor... Now we need to talk more about O.D.B.'s unbeatable style.

America's drug problem needed a contemporary face, and it took Ol' Dirty Bastard's courage for a portrait to form. It's a bit scary. I know most people believe that his life-story confirms the autobiographical nature of his impressionistic rhymes, but I think it's more complicated than that. A rapper's persona is graffiti on the man when he steps on to the street. Given no supplies, the impoverished artist must make himself the art. And you can't discount the fact that the world is evermore divided into rich and poor.

Rap should not represent the privileged. To imitate, and sometimes live the crooked crawl of the addict, was the Ol' Dirty Bastard's dangerous and profound choice as an artist. His wonky mottos: "I like livin' my own fuckin' show" and "Wu-Tang is for the children," made solid sense if you cared to listen. Most didn't. It was either funny or frustrating. The seemingly abstract shout-outs on the track "I Can't Wait" include:

"A shout-out to them crazy niggas in parts of the world that I never been to...
I want to give a shout-out to the Eskimos
I want to give a shout-out to the submarines
I want to give a shout-out to the army, air force, navy, marines...
I give a shout-out to all the women
I give a shout-out to all the babies
All the munchkins
All across the world playa, God
I want to give a shout-out to all the school teachers
I give a shout-out to uhm...… uhm, myself."

I'm not sure if Eskimos listen to O.D.B., but I know what he means. They do listen to him in Africa. Thanks in great part to the success of the Wu-Tang Clan's ethics of loyalty, independence, and originality, rap has become inspiration for people the world over. Rap's conflicting messages of war and peace have struck a chord in countries suffering the same racial damage as the USA. From Wiley in the UK, to Senegal's Wageble, to Brazil's MV Bill, to Canada's Kardinall Offishall, these are not the sublime days of the Jazz Age. This is the Rap Age. It is a ludicrous time, an extreme time, but not hopeless. Ol' Dirty Bastard expressed the contradictions of poverty with mind-boggling slang, a literary skill worthy of Raymond Roussel. He gave this chorus to Slum Village:

"Girl, if you're flexible, intellectual
Bisexual, can I get next to you?
If you're flexible then, we can keep it dirty and sexual
If your man front, than we gotta knock the nigga out
Smack the nigga up, stomp the nigga out, clap-clap the nigga up"

Flexible, intellectual, bisexual, next to you... perfect. If it suited his rhyme, he twisted words beyond comprehension, like on "Brooklyn Zoo II":

"You shouldn't bother this
Leave me alone or like a son he'll be fatherless
I got the Asiatic flow mixed with disco
Roll up on the scene like the Count of Monte Cristo,
And MC's start to vanish,
I rolled up on a jet black kid the nigga started speakin' Spanish
Yo! You wasn't from Panana!
I asked you how you get so fuckin' dark, you said sun-tan-ama"

"Sun-tan-ama"! Ol' Dirty Bastard might be the Vincent van Gogh of rap. Okay, V.V.G. made no money, and O.D.B's records sell well. Still, a lot of critics and fans misunderstand his ghetto impressionism as the idiot rantings of an utter lunatic, just as it took death for us to appreciate Van Gogh's art apart from his life. For the family, the premature death of Russell Jones is nothing but a tragedy. As listeners, we can hope for a critical rethinking of his music. He deserves his place in history.

He was devoutly, admirably underclass. He made bad accidents of speech tell the story. But I remember Salon had a piece on O.D.B. after Nigga Please was released in which the writer Jon Caramanica chose to debunk Dirty's status as a sex symbol, saying he had "a particular strain of black masculinity: debased, unhealthy and, most crucially, other." Let's face it, Caramanica's line of thinking is just People Magazine for post-modernists. But he was far from alone in dismissing the music because of the tabloids. Caramanca writes of "the curious mystique of Ol' Dirty Bastard, Wu-Tang Clan's nastiest member and, after a few arrests, last year's poster boy for misguided black male aggression". It was Van Gogh's problem, too, that his mental anguish was blamed for his art. Today we see the reverse, that Van Gogh was a visionary who suffered under the weight of self-revelation. He changed painting with the flow of his brush. Art was the only thing that kept Van Gogh alive. He was too fragile for this world.

O.D.B.'s life also overshadowed his music. While he was alive we joked that it was incredible he wasn't dead. "Don't go against the grain," said RZA, "if you can't handle it." I've always been impressed with the complexity of this line, which I realize RZA appreciates as well. He says it a lot. Today I read it as a warning. Nothing comes without sacrifice. For O.D.B.'s art to endure as long as it will, his own life was cut remarkably short.

O.D.B.'s language was surreal and unnatural. On "Brooklyn Zoo" he proclaimed: "This style I'm mastered in -- niggas catchin' headaches, what? What? You need aspirin? This type of pain, you couldn't even kill with Midol. Fuck around get sprayed with Lysol." He begged, he punished, he lost control. The track "Rollin' Wit You," ends with O.D.B. asking: "Yo, did you understand that?" In "Rawhide", he wrote about his STDs:

"I wanna see blood, whether it's period blood
Or bustin' your fuckin' face, some blood!
I'm goin' out my fucking mind!
Every time I get around devils
Let me calm down, you niggas better start runnin'
Cause I'm comin', I'm dope like fuckin' heroin
Wu-Tang blood-kin, a goblin, who come tough like lambskin
Imagine, gettin' shot up with Ol' Dirty insulin
You bound to catch AIDS or somethin'
Not sayin' I got it, but nigga
if I got it, you got it!!
What!?"

He was an original. Ol' Dirty Bastard's influence on MCs is difficult to chart because, unlike Jay-Z, his style couldn't be easily diluted for mainstream audiences. So there's no O.D.B. equivalent to Fabolous, thankfully. Still, you can hear Notorious B.I.G. try out the Original G-O-D's flow on "Gimme the Loot," and Lil' Jon has turned O.D.B.'s love for repetition into a child-friendly chant. Instead of: "Big Baby Jesus, I can't wait, nigga fuck that, I can't wait," Lil' Jon says: "Okay." The underground took to Dirty's style better. MC's like Dizzee Rascal, Beans, and Doeseone wouldn't make sense without him. The most important lesson aspiring rappers learn from O.D.B. is that you don't have to compromise originality to be successful, but success might compromise your life. "Don't go against the grain."

Death is the chorus of rap music. Just as death inspired and frightened the slaves to sing subversively of freedom, and gave the emancipated poor the blues, then jazz and soul, unflinching words about death have made rap both popular and unsavory. "When Biggie died," said Ghostface Killah, "they came out with Biggie Fries." That's poetry to me, the fact that Ghostface sees a tribute when he eats at Wendy's. Now that Ghost mentioned it, I can't help but feel the Biggie Fries are a tribute as well. It's sometimes hard to appreciate the poetry of the blunt end, but it exists. Death is the central metaphor of rap because it is the everyday risk a lot of rappers grew up around. Follow the ol' rule and write about what you know, and you can't deny that callous lyrics about death represent a living reality for millions of people in millions of slums. "Leave it up to me while I be livin' proof," said Inpectah Deck, "to kick the truth to the young black youth." The Wu-Tang Clan changed music only a decade ago. It's too soon for their members to be dying. On Saturday, November 13, rapper Ol' Dirty Bastard died of yet-unknown causes, presumably a heart attack. He was two days shy of his 36th birthday.

"Dirt Mcgirt... that's my motherfucking name
Love to flirt... that's my motherfucking game
They said 'Who wanna be an MC?'
I'm the original G-O-D
Make young ladies scream's my speciality
See my style, different from yours..."
~Ol' Dirty Bastard "Goin Down" from Return to the 36 Chambers

ODB - Year Of Ol' Dirty Bastard [1998]

Ol' Dirty Bastard - 1998 - The Year for Ol' Dirty Bastard

by Gin And Tacos

March 13, 1999

Side note: This is the only time that we will be linking to the sad, sorry webpage for the magazine Vice. It's an ugly magazine that we'd prefer not to be formally associated with - but they did interview the Ol' Dirty. See how much weight the poor man has put on since jail, and get ready to buy his new clothing line (?).

If Sir Robert Burnett is ginandtacos.com's Jesus, then Ol' Dirty Bastard is our John the Baptist. Or are we John the Baptist? I'd like to think we are preaching his word - wait, I'm not sure. Anyway, ginandtacos.com has always felt a very special connection with the gifted and troubled rapper from the Wu-Tang Clan. Ol' Dirty is a walking testament to the promise of the fractured, absurd, wonderful life one can lead in America.

Don't believe me? Why don't we walk through a year in the life of Ol' Dirty Bastard. Let's take 1998, an eventful year for the Dirt Dog. If this isn't chaotic enough for you, I have no idea who you are.

FEBURARY:

2-24 Ol' Dirty saves the life of a 4-year old child.
He ran outside of a studio he was recording in to help a girl who had just been hit by a driver. She was underneath the car and wsa being burned by
the engine. Ol' Dirty and several other rappers lifted the car off of her; Ol' Dirty visited her anonymously her in the hospital to make sure she was ok.

2-25 Ol' Dirty rushes Shawn Colvin's acceptance speech at the Grammy Award.
"Please calm down. I went and bought me an outfit today that cost me a lot of money, because I figured that Wu-Tang was gonna win," O.D.B. said, referring to the Best Rap Album that Wu-Tang was nominated for, but did not win earlier in the evening as the honor went to Puff Daddy. "I don't know how you all see it, but when it comes to the children, Wu-Tang is for the children. We teach the children. Puffy is good, but Wu-Tang is the best. I want you all to know that this is ODB, and I love you all, peace." "OK," Dirty announced from the stage. "I apologize my darling," he said to Colvin, who stood nearby, dumbfounded. "You're very beautiful and your speech was also very beautiful," he continued, referencing a speech she hadn't even made. "As a matter of fact, when me and you, with your speech, I think it was your speech that really attracted me up to the stage at that point of time to do that. So it's no disrespect at all. Thank you."

APRIL:

4-6 Ol' Dirty pleads guilty to charges of attempted assult.
The woman, Icelene Jones, is the mother of three of Ol' Dirty's children; he'll be back and forth to court in 1998 haggling out child support payments. ODB was granted a conditional release, while Jones was also granted a full order of protection as part of that ruling.

4-28 Ol' Dirty Changes his name to Big Baby Jesus.
"There's no more ODB no more. No, there's no more Osiris, that's all lies. From now on, my name is Big Baby Jesus" he announced to Vibe magazine. Later he told MTV News "I always been Jesus, I don't know what the big secret's been all these years. Hanging pictures up on the wall and crosses and things of that nature, I mean, it's all good, but the truth's gonna be revealed one day, and one day the truth's been revealed."

MAY:

5-20 After two bench warrants are issued, Ol' Dirty pays back child support owed in court.
Big Baby Jesus misses court twice, and a bench warrant is issued each time. Finally, Ol' Dirty shows up, and agrees to pay $35,000, which is less than the total but agreed to by all parties.

JUNE:

6-30 Ol' Dirty Bastard is shot twice during a robbery at his cousin's house.
Ol' Dirty was staying at his cousin's house in Brooklyn, New York, when two black men knocked on the door. After Ol' Dirty answered it, the two men forced themselves inside, stole money and personal jewerly and then shot Ol' Dirty once in the arm, and once in the back. He was taken to Interfaith Medical Center, St. John's Division where he was treated and declared to be in stable condition.

JULY:

7-1 Ol' Dirty is released from the hospital 8 hours after checking in.
A spokesperson at Brooklyn's Interfaith Medical Center called the wounds "superficial," and commented about O.D.B., "He's quite a character."

7-4 Ol' Dirty is accused of shoplifting a $50 pair of sneakers.
On the 4th of July, just days after being shot twice, Ol' Dirty is given a summons to appear in court on the charge of trying to walk out of a store wearing a $50 pair of sneakers that he did not pay for.

7-22 Someone steals Ol' Dirty's Range Rover
It was stolen from outside a Manhattan recording studio.

7-29 Ol' Dirty misses first court date for shoplifting charges.
A warrant for the his arrest was issued after the rapper failed to appear in court to answer charges stemming from the July 4 arrest for shoplifting.

AUGUST:

8-11 Ol' Dirty Bastard misses second shoplifting court date.
Bad weather was the problem -- he couldn't fly from New York to Virginia for the appearance. The judge was apparently quite forgiving and rescheduled the hearing for Thursday.

8-13 Ol' Dirty Bastard misses a third shoplifting court date.
Judge Robert L. Simpson, Jr. issued an order for his arrest without bond, much like a bench warrant with no chance of bailing out. If caught by the police, Dirty will be held in custody until his next scheduled court appearance in order to ensure his attendance, according to a spokesperson for the General District Court.

SEPTEMBER:

9-17 Ol' Dirty under arrest after making threats at a club.
According to the police, the rapper, whose real name is Russell Jones, was inside the venue while R&B singer Des'ree was performing, acting drunk and disorderly. The venue's security asked him to come outside to talk, at which point he refused and was ejected from the club. Upon his return, Dirty allegedly threatened to shoot members of the security staff, which is a felony offense. He is also being held for an unrelated traffic warrant. If convicted, the rapper could face one to three years in prison A spokesperson for the House of Blues says that the incident involving Dirty was minor.

The Virginia Beach, Virginia shoplifting case involving a $50 pair of Nike sneakers is ongoing as well.

9-30 Ol' Dirty is ejected from a Berlin Hotel.
While no charges have been officially brought against Ol' Dirty, other guests at the hotel were complaining because the rapper was hanging out on his balcony ... naked.

NOVEMBER:

11-6 Ol' Dirty arrested for threatening to kill ex-girlfriend, breaking into her work.
Ol' Dirty was arrested and booked on Thursday at 1 p.m. in Carson, California. Sheriff's deputies apprehended Dirty after his 27-year-old ex-girlfriend and mother of his one-year old child reported on Monday that he had allegedly threatened to kill her. On Thursday afternoon, she called police once again to tell them that he was en route to her job location. According to police reports, Dirty was apprehended while attempting to climb over the security gate to enter her job site. Dirty has another on-going case involving a previous terrorist threat charge. He is expected to appear in Beverly Hills Municipal Court on November 17 for allegedly threatening to shoot the West Hollywood House of Blues security staff.

He also faces shoplifting charges in Virginia Beach, Virginia over a $50 pair of Nike sneakers.

ODB - Not Dirty [2005]

ODB - Not Dirty [2005]

by Michael Agger

January 17, 2005

Russell Jones is a forty-four-year-old art director who lives in Park Slope, Brooklyn. In the early winter of 1996, he and his wife began to receive some unusual phone calls late at night. They would pick up the receiver and a voice would shout “Yo, Dirty!” or just “Dirteee!” and then hang up. Jones was mystified; he thought that maybe his number had been written down in a bathroom stall somewhere. A few weeks later, Jones’s young cousin, who was conversant in hip-hop, stopped by.

“You know that rapper Ol’ Dirty Bastard?”

“Uh, not really.”

“His real name is Russell Jones. That’s why you get those calls.”

“No way. It can’t be.”

It was. Russell Jones, a.k.a. Ol’ Dirty Bastard, had just left the group Wu-Tang Clan and had a hit song called “Brooklyn Zoo.” He called himself Ol’ Dirty Bastard because “there ain’t no father to his style”—a distinctive combination of song and rap. Something of a folk hero, O.D.B. would occasionally return to his old Brooklyn neighborhood, East New York, and hand out money on the streets. He also got into a lot of trouble—an assault charge, a bullet in the stomach. His fans would dial information and ask for the number of Russell Jones in Brooklyn. They’d get the wrong Russell Jones, the one who describes himself as “meek” and “white.”

The conversations often unfolded this way:

“Yo, Ol’ Dirty?”

“No, this is not Ol’ Dirty, but you have reached Russell Jones.”

“Oh, are you going to see him later?”

The callers always assumed that Jones would somehow run into O.D.B., even after he said he couldn’t rap. Most refused to believe him. “Where you at? I’m gonna come over and hang out with you,” they’d say. “Trust me, you’ll be very disappointed when you see me,” Jones would reply. He thought about getting an unlisted number, but, as a freelance illustrator, he needed to be in the book. If he hung up on the callers, they just called back. Eventually, he decided to enjoy the fruits of mistaken identity. There were the drunken admirers from Denmark and the little girl who wanted to do a school report about O.D.B. and his accomplishments. The most frequent calls were from young women who expressed a desire to break into the music business.

Like a bad French movie, Jones’s life began to intersect with O.D.B.’s in other ways. He learned that O.D.B.’s mother lived on a nearby street, and that he and O.D.B. belonged to the same video store. Jones really didn’t mind the notoriety of being paired with the self-destructive rapper. After all, he was much better off than his brother Tom Jones. “His life in the seventies was a living hell.”

Jones began to notice a pattern in the calls. There would be a few weeks of calm, and then the phone would start ringing five or six times a night. When this happened, Jones would say to his wife, “I think the O.D.B. did something.” During these years, O.D.B. seemingly couldn’t finish a day without getting arrested and thrown in jail. His incarceration did not stop the fans from dialling. “Ol’ Dirty is in prison!” “Yeah, I know. It’s harsh.” Even people who should know where to find O.D.B. began to have trouble tracking him down. Vibe wanted to send a limousine to the house. And then there was a call from a tuba-voiced man:

“This is Method.” Methane? Methadone? “Yo, Rusty, how you been, we need to get together.”

“I’m Russell Jones but not who you think I am.”

A pause. “O.K., well, tell my man to call me.”

After further protestations, Jones took down the number. Later, he learned that he had been talking to the hip-hop artist Method Man.

Of late, O.D.B. had been making a comeback. Two months ago, he was recording new songs and had finished shooting a reality TV show (in which a contestant had to stay within ten feet of him for a week) when he collapsed in a recording studio and died. He had overdosed on cocaine and painkillers. When the news broke, Jones took calls from distraught fans: “He was amazing. He was original.” Eric, a self-described rapper from the West Coast, phoned twice: “When you see the family, extend my condolences.” Jones thought about going to the funeral, but decided against it.

Over the years of answering these calls, Jones often wondered how the Dirty Bastard was doing. One day, he ran into him on the street. “It was an incredible moment,” Jones recalled. “There was this guy with mini-dreads who had his shirt off. He was wearing cutoff overalls and Timberland boots without socks. He was lurching around with these huge wide steps. You could tell he was a star. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. He had charisma. And I said to myself, ‘That’s Russell Jones. That’s the O.D.B.’ ”

ODB - A Final 40 with The ODB [2007]

ODB - A Final 40 with The Old Dirty Bastard [2007]

by: Monte Smith

Jan 21, 2007

On Saturday, November 13th, the rap world lost another extraordinarily talented family member. Russell Jones, better known as Ol' Dirty Bastard, collapsed and died in a Manhattan recording studio just days before his thirty-sixth birthday. The cause of his death is still uncertain.

I'll never forget the night I met Ol' Dirty Bastard. I was in Raleigh to do a pre-concert interview with NYC emcee Heather B for Headz magazine, North Carolina's first Hip Hop publication. No one knew who was headlining the show at the time I accepted the story, but the day of the event I found out that it was ODB. Having no time to contact his publicist to secure a meeting, I asked Heather B at the end of our session if she knew where the promoter had put Ol' Dirty up for the night. Luckily, he was on the same floor. Within minutes I found his road manager and arranged an interview for after his set.

To make a long, drug-induced story short, I rode from the hotel to the venue with Heather B. When the show was over, I went back to Heather B's tour van to try and prepare some last minute questions for Ol' Dirty. As I'm sitting in the van with Heather B and her then crew, the 54th Regiment, waiting to leave, her road manager comes running up to the van, screaming "What did he do? What did he do?" Heather B starts screaming, "Just leave it alone! I took care of it!" Her road manager, now even more pissed off, looks at everyone in the van and says, "I don't give a fuck who he is, let's go get that muthafucka!" I started having a bad feeling he was talking about Ol' Dirty, because at the exact moment we were receiving the pep rally I could see Ol' Dirty and his mob of forty or more exiting the venue. Once the road manager saw their numbers, he quickly calmed down, asked if everyone was in, slid into the driver's seat and drove us back to the hotel. No one said a word. I found out later that night that Ol' dirty had allegedly followed Heather B into the VIP bathroom at the venue and tried to get physical. When I questioned both artists about the incident the following morning, both declined to comment.

The interview you're about to read took place on the night of April 6th 1996, in a Best Western hotel bathroom. The mob of forty or more had use of the main room. Through the course of an hour, three blunts and countless 40s, I had the chance to sit back and listen to Ol' Dirty Bastard in prime intoxicated form. That night, between betting me his shoes over whether or not he fucked Mariah Carey in the ass and breaking down the day's mathematics, ODB told me he was living the best days of his life. And now, knowing what has happened, I feel honored in knowing that I was able to at least capture an hour of one.

thaFormula.com: What makes you so fucking special? (laughter)

ODB: Ol' dirty is a gift to the planet. Understand, rap is rap and rap has been here for many years. So the reason I say Ol' Dirty is a present to the planet is because I'm the nigga who brought rap into a different form. I brought the soul into this rap shit, I had to let niggas know where the James Brownses stand in this muthafuckin shit. I had to show how the Otis Reddings have connection to this rap shit!

thaFormula.com: I heard you on the Stretch and Bobbito show recently saying you moved so far out in the country, you can't even pick up AM radio. Does that statement validate the constant rumors that people are trying to kill you?

ODB: Dirt Dog is here and Dirt Dog is here to stay. The only the thing that can kill Dirt is Dirt himself! Now pass the 40 ounce back. (laughter) It's good as a muthafucka ain't it?

thaFormula.com: In the parking lot tonight after the show, it looked like you had a small army with you. Who were they and are you paying the bill for all those muthafuckas to be on tour? (laughter)

ODB: That was the Brooklyn Zoo, my brothers! And there's enough money for all of us. I can't be around my brothers and I got money and they ain't got no money, because if I got money, I gotta split it with these muthafuckas anyway. So, if we all have our own currency, and our babies have their own currency, and their babies' babies have their own, then you have a nation of people that have money and when you have money, you can make power moves!

thaFormula.com: Speaking of money, the Mariah Carey collaboration [1995's "Fantasy" remix] turned out to be a very lucrative one. Are there any other mainstream artists you're considering working with?

ODB: Prince and myself are getting ready to do a song together. Who else… the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Lenny Kravitz - and I would just like to say, THEY all called me! (laughter) My brother has a heavy metal band called Funk Face, we're teaming up. Whatever comes to mind I'm gonna do, I don't give a fuck! Country/western, jazz, R&B, rock 'n roll, heavy metal, fuck pussy while rhyming, (laughter)… As long as it's got to do with money, I'm gonna do it.

thaFormula.com: I've heard there are a LOT of new groups coming out this year under the Wu banner. If so, could too much Wu franchising be overkill?

ODB: When I say Wu-Tang, I'm talking about the founders of Wu-Tang: the GZA, the RZA and the Ol' Dirty Bastard. We're the seed and the family is the root and all these branches you're hearing about like Sunz of Man, Zu Ninjas, the Outlawz, Killarmy, all these groups are just branches off the tree. You see, we're a golden tree, a tree that produces fruit in the spring, the summer, the fall, the winter, I'm talkin all muthafuckin year long! Wu-Tang is gonna take over the whole rap nation! Niggas ain't gonna wanna rap no more!

thaFormula.com: Since so many groups have been put on the roster, can you tell me who's next to put out material and when?

ODB: We got Ghostface's album coming out this year, my shit will be out this year, hopefully Method's album will be out this year, Wu-Tang's album will be out this year, Twelve O'Clock's album will be out this year…man, we just gonna be dropping bombs. We're flooding the radios, we're flooding the televisions, the telephone wires, we're flooding the pussy holes, we're flooding every thang man, we're flooding the black woman with babies, we doin this shit. The New WU order is here!

thaFormula.com: You mentioned the GZA was the 'foundation', but I've read the RZA is who inspired you to pursue writing and music, who first helped in transforming Russell Jones into Ol' Dirty Bastard.

ODB: GZA's the foundation, RZA is the manifestation of Wu-Tang and Ol' Dirty is just the understanding of it. The reason I say the GZA is THE foundation is because he was the one who actually sat down with the RZA and taught Rakeem, the RZA, how to rhyme. Then RZA taught me knowledge of self and knowledge of rap and if I didn't study my lessons, RZA would bust my ass, so I had no choice.

thaFormula.com: So the RZA was more of a father figure than friend?

ODB: Hell yeah! Listen… he use to write my shit down on paper for me. At the time I didn't like to rhyme. Who the fuck wanna read shit off paper? I didn't even like going to fuckin' school (laughter), you know what I'm saying? But he made me do it because he saw the light in me. If it wasn't for RZA, the Wu wouldn't be shit!

thaFormula.com: When you finally found yourself as a writer, what do you feel mentally separated you from the rest of the clan?

ODB: I'm the muthafucka who's gonna really tell you what the fuck's going on because I'm the nigga who don't turn the other cheek.

thaFormula.com: To you, what's the most important message in your writing you would like future generations of rap babies to discover?

ODB: That we're wise scientists who are determined to rule. It's in our nature. It was predicted for us… the black man is God to rule forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever! And ever!

thaFormula.com: Well, we're out of Dutches and you just spilled the last beer. Is there anything special you would like to add for all the rappers, rivals and snaggle-tooth biters who may be reading this?

ODB: Yeah muthafuckas, like Snoop Dog said, "Without me, you'll never go platinum!" Dirt Dog out!

With the recent releases of Legend Of The Wu-Tang: Wu-Tang Clan's Greatest Hits and Disciples Of The 36 Chambers I assumed, like many, that 2005 would be the year for Ol' Dirty and his legendary cohorts to return with a fresh batch of poisoned darts. But now, with "the understanding of the Wu" gone and with little to no details being released from the camp or authorities, who's to say what's in store for the Wu-Tang Clan, and more importantly, his thirteen children? My thoughts go out to his family.

*Monte Smith is a nationally acclaimed street poet, freelance writer and community-based educator. His second book, Don't Shoot the Hostages: Poetry for the Urban Survivalist Vol. 2., will be out winter 2005. For more info about Monte go to www.33third.com/monte.

ODB - Portrait of the artist in jail [2002]

Old Dirty Bastard - Portrait of the artist in jail

by The Guardian, Blender Magazine

Friday March 22, 2002

He was the clown prince of hip-hop, famously appearing onstage with the Wu-Tang Clan while on the run from the police. Now Ol' Dirty Bastard is doing time. William Shaw meets him in Clinton Correctional Facility

'Ol' Dirty Bastard's dysfunction was the attraction, to an extent. He was a calamity waiting to happen'

Hunched over in a prison-issue green shirt, inmate Russell Tyrone Jones shuffles hesitantly across the room, looking much older than a 33-year-old should. He doesn't remotely resemble the Ol' Dirty Bastard who hijacked the stage at the Grammys in 1998 to protest the fact that his group, the Wu-Tang Clan, had lost an award to Puff Daddy. That ODB famously declared on TV: "Wu-Tang are for the children." This ODB just looks sad, defeated and nervous. The first thing he says, with a puzzled expression, is: "Who are you?"


Ol' Dirty Bastard has a new CD out. Appropriately called The Trials and Tribulations of Russell Jones, it is the product of a man seriously down on his luck. The album was released on D3 Entertainment, a little-known LA label. Gone are the big-label promotion budgets and the big-name producers, such as the Neptunes.
"Ah...my album?" he says, confused. He looks at the floor. He has acquired the habit of the prison underdog: avoid eye contact. ODB's new label attempted to contact him through his attorney to let him know about our interview, but he looks perplexed. "When's it coming out?" he asks. He sits down across a long table that separates inmates from visitors. "So," he says, "um, what do you want to know?" Well, for a start, how are things going in here? He sighs and rubs the left side of his head. "Not too good."

The Trials and Tribulations of Russell Jones is ODB's third solo record. His first, 1995's Return to the 36 Chambers: The Dirty Version, was released at the peak of his talent, when the Wu-Tang clique was busy rewriting the hip-hop rulebook. When every other MC was affecting moody gangsta cool, ODB was out-and-out psychotic. His growling, quavering, blustering delivery was instantly recognisable, as was his outrageous, scatological wordplay.

He became hip-hop's clown prince, lending his stamp of ghetto crazy to such pop hits as Mariah Carey's Fantasy and Pras's Ghetto Supastar. But it took four years to record his second CD, Nigga Please, a fact easily explained by such lyrics as: "I'm immune to all viruses/ I get the cocaine/It cleans out my sinuses." ODB, aka Osirus, aka Big Baby Jesus, aka Dirt Dog, is a man who loved his drugs - a romance that in large part shows why, aside from a few brief weeks on the lam, he has not been a free man since July 1999.

A noose of legal problems was already tightening around Ol' Dirty Bastard when he accosted a security guard at the House of Blues in Los Angeles in September 1998, and was charged with making "terrorist threats". In February 1999, he was the first citizen arrested under a new California law that made wearing a bulletproof vest illegal for convicted felons. Two months later, ODB was picked up by the NYPD in Queens after running a red light. Police found 20 bags of crack in his car. For those offences, Dirty was sentenced to three years' probation and one year in Impact House, a residential drug-rehab facility in Pasadena, California.

In mid-October 2000, just two months short of completing his treatment, Dirty walked out of Impact House. Fans roared a month later, when a fugitive ODB appeared onstage with Wu-Tang Clan at Manhattan's Hammerstein Ballroom. A few days later, he was arrested in the parking lot of a McDonald's in Philadelphia. His probation violation, coupled with his previous 1999 drug arrest, left Judge Joseph Grosso little choice but to sentence the rap star to two to four years in prison. In a life lousy with rotten judgment, running out on rehab may have been the dumbest move ODB ever made.

The Clinton Correctional Facility is a bleak, ugly place near the Canadian border. Its nickname is Little Siberia. In the fall of 2001, authorities shipped ODB up here to Clinton, in the town of Dannemora. Home to just under 3,000 prisoners, Clinton still has a reputation as an especially hard place to do time. Tupac Shakur was incarcerated here - an experience that shook him badly.

Getting to Clinton is a 320-mile journey from New York City. ODB's mother Cherry Jones and his wife Icelene say it's almost impossible to make the trip.

He listens with vague interest to the news about his album. He's never seen artwork for it. "Have you got it?" he asks. "I want to see that." But visitors aren't allowed to bring anything in. Elektra, his former label, dropped ODB when his legal problems became too great. After Death Row's Suge Knight was jailed, D3's founder Aldy Damian won the right to distribute Death Row's catalogue. Hip-hop has a history of artists making albums in absentia. But ODB is no Tupac Shakur, with reams of unheard recordings. Often, producers have stitched new tracks under old rhymes. The "new" ODB single Dirty & Stinkin' is actually Last Call, a song he recorded for a shelved solo project, now rebuilt by Damian with Insane Clown Posse.

ODB listens blankly to the list of guest artists the label has cobbled together: Mack 10, Too Short, C-Murder and E-40. "E-40 is on there?" says ODB, brightening. "He has the same birthday as me."

"It was some of the reason I signed him," says Dante Ross of ODB's troubled personal life. Ross was the A&R man who brought ODB to Elektra. "His dysfunction was the attraction, to an extent. You don't come across a character like that too often. He was a calamity waiting to happen. That's kind of the beauty of it."

The Wu-Tang Clan sold themselves as nine cartoonlike superheroes fighting their way out of the ghetto with mystical powers of rhyme and rhythm. If Method Man was the cool one and RZA the deranged genius scientist, ODB was the fall-on-his-face, drunken monk - the lascivious, welfare- grabbing, coke-snorting ghetto star who still got to guest on Mariah Carey's records. "He goes against the grain," says the Neptunes' Pharrell Williams. "But those are the people who are remembered in history. Jesus was a rebel."

For most of the Wu-Tang Clan, success meant escaping the poverty of their roots. ODB had as hard an upbringing as anyone. Raised on public assistance by his mother in Brooklyn, he spent time in a group home and was a teenage father. He hung out with his cousins, Wu-Tang's RZA and GZA, on Staten Island, and often rode the subway with them to 42nd St to watch kung-fu movies. The three began assembling the imagery and rhymes that provided the foundation for the Wu-Tang phenomenon.

How much have you changed since the days when you, GZA and RZA started performing together? "I was a lot sharper then. I'm not so sharp now," ODB says sadly. "It's like somebody's put the kitchen implement up on the shelf, if you know what I mean."

With success came an increasing appetite for drugs. "At the time I was working with him, I didn't see any hard drugs," says Beth Jacobson, a vice-president at Elektra when ODB made his first solo album. "Only weed. And he liked to drink. Crack and dust - these are things I found out later he was dabbling in."

ODB's chaotic offstage life quickly became better known than his music. In November 1997 he was arrested for failing to pay child support for three of his 13 children. The following June, he was shot in the back during what he said was a robbery of his Brooklyn home. That same month, he was accused of shoplifting sneakers. The incident at the House of Blues in LA occurred that September. In 1999, things got worse. In January, NYPD officers accused him of firing a gun at them (a charge later dismissed). In March, he was arrested for having drugs in his car; then in July came the arrest that led to his removal from the streets.

Now, sitting here like Randle McMurphy after Nurse Ratched has finally crushed him in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, a chastened ODB talks quietly in terms that occasionally verge on the surreal. "It's not easy for me," he says miserably. "I feel like I'm in a spaceship that has just landed here. And when you get out, you realise there's nothin' there at all. I don't know." Pause. "This is a corrupt facility," he says, glancing nervously to his left, where two guards watch. "In here...there's people in here that are corrupt." He looks scared.

Last year, ODB was assaulted by fellow prisoners in a New York holding facility and suffered a broken leg. "What happened?" he says. "I was in a fight." He refuses to disclose more. Now his routine is simple. Every morning, he attends a drug rehabilitation class. He spends the rest of his time in his cell.

Have you made any friends in here? "Friends?" he says, as if it's a dumb question. "Oh, no. I don't have any friends in here." You keep to yourself? "Yes - oh, yes," he says emphatically." So what do you do here? "Watch TV." Are you learning anything from the rehab class? He sighs. "Not really." You turned 33 two weeks ago. What did you do? "I didn't do much. Watch TV."

When ODB was in court in July 2001 for sentencing, some reporters saw bandages on his left wrist as evidence of a suicide attempt. His attorney, Peter Frankel, insists that reports of ODB's mental instability are exaggerations.

When you were imprisoned last summer, people were concerned about your mental health. You were reportedly kept on suicide watch. Dirty gazes at the table in front of him. "I think things are a lot worse with me now," he says. Your state of mind is worse? "Yes." Do you take any medication? "No." He shakes his head. "I don't. You have to keep your eyes open here, so you can't take anything. This isn't a place where you would want to not know what was going on. This place," he says, "it's full of convicts."

"He got a raw deal," says RZA. "If you're a drug abuser, you need help. And jail is definitely no help for a drug addict. And he's in jail with murderers, killers, rapists - and he's none of those. The only person he ever hurt was himself."

All of which raises the question: why didn't anyone put a stop to ODB's downward spiral? Beth Jacobson remembers a music-industry event at which Dirty approached her at a packed Miami nightclub. To her horror, she realised he wanted her to watch another woman perform oral sex on him. "lt was dark, but when I realised what I was seeing, I was mortified," Jacobson says.

Later that night, ODB came back and put his arm around her. "What the fuck was that?" the Elektra executive asked him. "You thought I would like that?" "Ah, baby," he replied, "I just wanted you to see how I could get my dick sucked, Elektra-style." Jacobson was outraged - both that he had done it, and that he could get away with such behaviour. "At that point," she says, "somebody should have stopped him and said, 'Listen. This shit is not going to fly.'"

Jacobson feels that nobody wanted to - because everyone was enjoying the show too much. Dante Ross witheringly underscores the point: "To a lot of people who deem themselves politically correct. I think Dirty became their minstrel show. He was as close as they could get to the ghetto and watch someone totally dissolve as a human, while sitting far enough back to laugh."

"It was the drugs," ODB says heavily. "It was the drugs." He now wears the look of a damaged man. If things go right, ODB could be back on the streets in a matter of weeks. He seems not to realise this, but as Tupac Shakur remarked after he'd been released from Clinton county jail, "When you're in jail, you don't think you're ever coming back."'

Buddy Arnold, who runs the Musicians Assistance Program (MAP), a charity for drug-addicted musicians, is sceptical about ODB's chances on the outside. "Do many people make it out of that cycle?" Arnold asks. "No. It's always been easier for musicians to get loaded, because people want to hang with them. And if they know you like a certain thing, they'll bring it." Ross is also pessimistic. "No one was ever able to get the message through to him, the same as with Tupac: 'Dude, you're going to die if you keep this shit up.'"

ODB chats idly for a couple of hours. His face lights up only when talk turns to cities the Wu-Tang Clan played while on tour, places like Paris and Tokyo. "London. I wish I was there," he says sadly. "Tell me about London. What's it like now?"

Afterwards, we shake hands and agree to meet the next day. ODB seems pleased to have had the chance to talk - especially about the world outside his cell. He wants to see the artwork for his album, and I've promised to bring him someone's phone number.

I return in the morning and wait for ODB to reappear. He doesn't. "Sorry," says the guard. "He's refusing the visit." The next day, the same thing happens. He stays in his cell, as if he can't feel sure of himself anywhere else right now.

I remember something he told me two days earlier in a half-puzzled, half- mournful tone: "You know, I don't know whether Ol' Dirty Bastard is even here any more. I think he's gone."

ODB - Niggaz was tryna kill Me [2003]

New Source Magazine: Old Dirty Bastard Interview “Niggaz was tryna kill me in Jail !”

by The Source

May 30, 2003 4:44 PM

The Source: While incarcerated, what did you do to keep your mind off the time you had to servce ? Did you do any writing ?

ODB: My legs were on the run. I didn’t have no time to write: n*ggaz was tryin to kill me up in prison. I was thinking about something else.

The Source: How long will you be on parole ?

ODB: For a year and a half

The Source: Do you think they tried to make an example out of you ?

ODB: Yeah, definitely, because 2 years is a long time for an entertainer.What the you keeping an entertainer down for so long ? For a lil piece of drugs ?

The Source: So, you are an official Roc-A-Fella artist. How long did it take to make that decision ?

ODB: A week to 2 weeks.

The Source: How did that come about ?

ODB: I gave Dame a call, we kicked it, and we said, “Let’s do this!’

The Source: What made you go to the ROC ?

ODB: I like Jay, that’s my main n*gga. He the coolest n*gga ! He calm, so he taught mer something, that you don’t got to be yelling ans screaming and you can still get paid.

The Source: What kind of contract do you have with the ROC ?

ODB: It’s a 5 album deal

The Source: How is the relationship with the rest of Roc-A-Fella’s artists ?

ODB: We got a cool relationship. I’m just happy to be here.

The Source: What are your plans now ?

ODB: Knock out an album in 3 months and try to have some featured artists like 50 Cent, Mariah Carey, Jay-Z, M.O.P on it.

The Source: What’s up with the Wu, yall still family ?

ODB: Yeah ofcourse, we gonna make an album this year.

The Source: You got a lot of work to put in, you ready ?

ODB: No, I’m bullsh*ttin, I’m ready

The Source: What’s up with Brooklyn Zoo ?

ODB: Brooklyn Zoo is another thing. That’s my team and we always gonna roll with the six-pack. The sh*ts gonna be lovely man.

The Source: Are your working on other projects ?

ODB: I got 2 movies-one of them is called Warriors and the other is the sequel to State Property. I got the Dirt McGirt clothing line coming out in the fall.

The Source: You not wasting any time.

ODB: Definitely. I just wanna do it like Tyson-no talking, just get in the ring.

The Source: When it’s all said and done, what do you want your fans and people to know about ODB ?

ODB: I want them to see me as a businessman.

The Source: If you were’t doing music, what would you be doing ?

ODB: I’d be on welfare smoking a blunt.

ODB - Digging in the Dirt [2005]

Digging in the Dirt
Just another urban legend: The final interview with Ol' Dirty Bastard

by Jaime Lowe

March 21st, 2005 5:55 PM

Russell Jones (Ol' Dirty Bastard) died November 13 as a result of "intoxication by the combined effects of cocaine and [the pain-killer] Tramadol." He had nine days left on parole, and was alone in the recording studio past curfew. He had just missed performing in the first East Coast Wu-Tang show in nearly five years. And this spring, Roc-A-Fella is releasing his last official record.

In October '03 at three in the morning, ODB, at his first official show post-jail, had followed metallists the Dillinger Escape Plan, of all unlikely bands. He took the stage looking like he was fresh from a coma, tears trailing down his cheeks. ODB didn't even seem to notice he was crying. The crowd chanted, begging for the hallucinatory diatribes from his drunk days. Buddha Monk and his Brooklyn Zoo posse filled in words when Dirt's jaw was slack and his mouth open in exasperation. One dancer stripped. ODB didn't even notice. He was paralyzed, lost onstage in a shell of what used to be. His eyes were quiet too, not even responding to the mostly white, hipped-out crowd shouting, begging him to dance—it wasn't much more than a minstrel show. But that was what people will remember—his cracked-out fuckups with the law and blissed-out lady-loving, a life of ghetto celebrity.

Two months later, in January, ODB and I met for what turned out to be his last interview, at his Kensington apartment on a cold, sun-blistered Friday. His manager, Jarred Weisfeld, spoke in a whisper and ushered me through a dark entryway. "Dirt's sleeping," he hushed as he sat me on a leather sofa. "I'll get him up."
It was one in the afternoon. ODB (now Dirt McGirt) hovered in the hallway, awake but groggy. He turned on the bathroom light, pausing to check out who was in the living room. He turned off the light and shuffled into the room in his slippers and a striped terry cloth robe with the tags still attached. There was a stale medicinal smell hovering. He looked like a tranquilized bear; eyes darting up and down till they mellowed and hid behind suspiciously hooded lids.

ODB was never a big fan of talking, never a fan of the press. "Ain't nothing to talk about, I was just a bad boy," he said. There was a time when ODB did enough damage for 20 crash-and-burn superstars, all chronicled neatly in his obits this past November. There was a time when he had plenty to say. Not much of it made sense, but he was happy to rush a stage and warble. Beneath the antics, he was begging for help. Back then there was a shred of hope that ODB's time in jail had calmed him.
"It's all about myself now. It ain't about mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers," he said. "When I get off parole, if I get off parole, I'm gonna try and relocate. I'm going to sit down, relax, and play music. I want to go to Hawaii." Even then, he knew his chances for survival were slim. He talked about escape like the Fort Greene boy he was 20 years ago, rhyming the streets, getting lost in a world of Wu, grasping for that imagined somewhere else. "I miss how it used to be. But I don't want that. It's cool how it is and that's it." He had hoped for a near impossible transition from jail to life. He'd pleaded with his parole board in February 2003 that he could stay straight. ODB explained that he was just offered a job to make another record. "They offered me $500,000," he said. The board expressed some concern—that kind of money can't be good for someone with a taste for crack—but let him go on the promise that he'd clean up his act.

"Dirty went through a lot of trauma and nobody knows how much because we weren't in the cells with him. . . . When he first came out he was pretty stiff, he wasn't ODB," his cousin and fellow Wu founder RZA said. RZA said Dirt was numb to the rest of the world when he first got out.
"It was a tough adjustment being cooped up like that. . . . It just wasn't my scene. I didn't like it in there. I don't like jails. Thousands of threats were made against me because I was famous, because of my walk, whatever, whoever, just because," ODB said.

Starting in 1997 his public disintegration overshadowed his enigmatic voice. First he was arrested for failing to pay child support. Then he was shot in the back by a burglar. A few weeks later he walked out of a store without paying for a pair of Nikes. He got into a fight with a security guard at the House of Blues in L.A. and was charged with "terrorist threats." He was accused of firing a gun at a cop. Then a couple months later traffic police found 20 vials of crack in his Mercedes-Benz. Instead of going to jail, he went to rehab in Pasadena and walked out two months before his court-ordered year was up. He toured the country on the lam, popping up at various Wu-Tang shows until he was caught with a mob of admirers at a McDonald's in Philly. He was a train wreck, no doubt, but he never committed a violent crime. "He was quieter after he got out of prison," his mom, Cherry Jones, said. "He grew up."

A year before his death Dirt moved out of his mom's Park Slope house to his own apartment for the first time. His digs were sparsely furnished except for the fairy-tale canopy bed shrouded in cascading yellow chiffon. The rest of the apartment was showroom generic. This was improbably the home to the stream-of-consciousness MC with gridlocked gold teeth and cornrows that defied gravity. "People don't see me being myself. I can't describe it. . . . Life is boring. My life is boring," he said. But in reality and in his head, ODB had a lot of lives—and now, they've been reduced to a dozen or so names chronicled on the backs of hipster tees.
When talking about the Knitting Factory night, ODB chalked it up to drug use, which is odd for someone who was still under the scrutiny of parole. "At the Neon factory? That's when I was nice like that? I don't know man, I don't know, I was in another world. I wasn't myself that night because I had some Ecstasy."
His manager, Weisfeld, was quick to respond: "Naw, he's just playing. When Dirt went onstage at the Knitting Factory that night, it was a pre-rehearsed thing. Dirt got up there and just decided to say he was on Ecstasy." Why? " 'Cause I was on Ecstasy. That's why," Dirt said, standing up, now as lively as I'd seen him all day. "You weren't on Ecstasy," Weisfeld said. "Dirt, what's wrong with you?" "I just do what I gots to do. Period," ODB said. How come it doesn't show up on urine tests? I asked. "It just doesn't."
"Dirt, why don't you tell her the truth, you don't do Ecstasy," Weisfeld pleaded. "Yeah. OK. I don't do Ecstasy. We don't do Ecstasy and all that stuff," ODB said reluctantly.
Back then, it almost seemed like he wished his problem was drugs. But clearly there were other factors. It was reported in the New York Daily News that ODB was diagnosed schizophrenic at the Manhattan Psychiatric Center (MPC) when he was released from prison. For a while, according to RZA, he took court-mandated medications.

"He's a true expresser," said RZA. "He don't give a fuck, and to our society that might be dysfunctional. It's like that movie A Beautiful Mind. In a way that guy had an alternate reality, like most hip-hop artists, like ODB. You get this idea about life that is different from the average person. We create these worlds, and we get stuck in them."
When asked about the detour to MPC, ODB said he went "not even for a minute, just for a second." And Weisfeld quickly followed with "He doesn't want to talk about that."
The next time I saw Dirt was backstage at his B.B. King's show, a couple months into 2004. He was noticeably different. He was awake and hyper. He walked in and sat close to me on the sofa, answering one or two stray questions. He looked confused, then angry: "I did an interview with you already."
There were six or seven people crowding the room. After a few minutes and some wild-eyed, one-word answers, he grabbed the tape recorder and held it like a mic to his mouth. "This is Dirt McGirt," he said, "and you all know me and I don't like answering no fucking questions. You know what I'm saying. You know how we get down and we've been doing this for years so let's continue doing this." He clicked off the recorder and got up to talk to his mom, who didn't want to be caught backstage in the first place. She told me before ODB showed up (hours late) that he didn't like her being backstage before a show because she babied him. A couple minutes passed, and Dirt sat close to me again and in the most serene, concerned, docile manner looked at me and asked, "You OK?"

I guess I looked baffled or shocked by the grabbing of the tape recorder. He got onstage, and performed four or five songs that Weisfeld was thrilled about. It seemed a miracle that he was onstage at all. But when he got out there, he swore and danced and garbled his every word; the audience was left wanting.
Now ODB is just another urban legend. There's a story of how he ran out of a recording studio to save a four-year-old girl who was trapped under a car—that he lifted the car and saved the girl's life. His friends talk about the languages he invented, the philosophies he spewed, and the rhymes that ran rampant. "He's always been outspoken and outlandish," RZA said. "He pushed everything right to the edge of the cliff and then he pulled it back. . . . His growl, his voice, and his delivery was one of the most unorthodox voices in hip-hop."
It's just too bad that such an unpredictable life ended so predictably.