Q&A-Daddy Yankee: From the streets to "Big Boss"

MIAMI (Billboard) - Raymond Ayala, better-known as reggaeton star Daddy Yankee, travels with a black backpack slung over shoulders that are newly muscled from a regime of pumping iron.

Inside the backpack: an iPod and half a dozen legal pads, page after page filled with neatly penciled lines of random thoughts, poems, phrases and songs. The meticulous penmanship, with nary a scribble to mar the calligraphy, bring to mind a good schoolboy, not a rapper from the hood. But, with his mix of street swagger and impish boy-next-door charm, Ayala is a little bit of both.

As reggaeton's primary ambassador and best-known name, Daddy Yankee spearheaded a new wave of Latin music into the mainstream. On a late-night break from recording "El Cartel: The Big Boss," his first full studio album to be released under his joint-venture deal with Interscope Records, he sat down with Billboard.

Q: Where did you get your musical streak?

A: My father. He was a salsa percussionist. A bongosero. When we had the salsa boom (in the '80s) my father would alternate with a bunch of bands. I didn't play percussion. I sang and I improvised. I sang all day, and I imitated people like (singer) Rafael Hernandez and Bobby Capo in the school talent shows. If they let the track run, I would simply improvise over it and people loved it.

My mother's family was also full of musicians, who played traditional music. And every time there was a party, they'd say, "Have Raymond sing." Because I would improvise about everybody.

Q: You first peformed hip-hop, not reggaeton. What were your songs about?

A: Social conscience. Messages from the street, what I lived. At the beginning there was a message in the songs. Now, there still is some of that, but everybody is into singles.

Q: How did you get your business savvy?

A: I saw the DJs making money. But us, the singers, we made nothing. We couldn't charge for the lyrics. There were no royalties. It was pure street. I began by applying the street code of conduct to the music industry, which isn't compatible at all. In the street, you keep your word intact. That's what defines you as a man in life. In the industry, you give your word, and tomorrow things change.

Q: First a good kid, and now you're an SOB?

A: No (laughs). I was always streetwise. But street deals aren't the same as music deals. In the street, a man's word is respected. Here, it isn't. I say there are three very corrupt worlds, and if you graduate from any one of them, you're a soldier. If you're in politics, entertainment or drugs, there is no bigger corruption. Honestly, there is more integrity on the street.

Q: Is it ironic that coming from a background of socially minded material, your big break came with "Gasolina," a party song?

A: Yes, but I always had a lot of faith in that song. Because it was an evolution. If you listen to the hooks, the interpretation and the beat, it was very different from what was being done then. After that everybody followed that pattern. I'll be honest. There have been other success stories, but there hasn't been a phenomenon as big as that one.

Q: A lot of people take credit for "Gasolina." What is the real story?

A: The hook is Daddy Yankee's. As for the writing, I've written three tracks with (producer) Eddie Dee. This was one of them. I was in (Puerto Rican neighborhood) Villa Kennedy. And I was thinking, "What can I record that hasn't been done before, that's fun?" And I heard someone shout, "Mami, como te gusta la gasoline!"

Gasoline. Everybody wants it. Everybody knows it. I went to my studio in Villa Kennedy to record it. Then I took it to Eddie, and he said, "It's good, but it needs something more." We wrote the song, and then we took it to Luny Tunes and they did the beat and the tracks. And that's it.

Q: Your new album has some English, but it's essentially in Spanish. You've always said you won't break with that.

A: No. That's who I am. That's my essence. I've told you I speak Tony Montana English. But I feel that's part of who I am. If I polish it too much, it won't be me.

Q: Some people keep asking, "Will reggaeton die?" What are your thoughts?

A: The most-sold (Latin) album in 2006 was "Barrio Fino En Directo." It's a reggaeton album. The thing is, reggaeton has never been supported by the industry. Now it is. But I would say it's (done) out of pressure. Because it makes the numbers and gets ratings. They play it because people want it.

But we broke the rules. A lot of people saw these kids, these punks, who didn't know what they were doing and thought they could run the business. But who are the ones that don't know what they're doing?

Q: However, the reggaeton sound was stuck there for a moment.

A: Totally. There was a musical pattern that never changed. I try to never go back to what I've done before. For me, every hit has its moment. I never stick to a formula. If you're an artist and you like your art and you look for your hit in the same way, you'll go nuts, because it will never happen. If you try to do that, you'll become a product. You'll become what the label wants you to be.

Q: You don't drink nor do you endorse liquor companies. Why are you so adamant about that?

A: Sometimes if an alcoholic beverage wants to do some kind of promotion for an event, we do it. But I can't be a spokesperson. Because in my personal life there were problems with drugs and alcohol. It really touches me because it goes back to when I was a kid.

Q: Have you written about that?

A: No. Out of respect for my father, who I'm still very close to. I would like to talk about what I lived (through) in my home, but it's so raw that I don't want to offend my father. Because I understand it's an illness. Now I understand that, and we try to help. And now, he's been clean for over six months.

Q: Tell me about your foundation.

A: It's called Corazon Guerrero (Warrior Heart). It will formally launch this fall. I created it to help people who've been in jail, mainly children. Through the program, I look for the kids when they're still in jail, so that when they come out they're prepared to get a job.

Q: Why work with ex-cons?

A: We wanted to help people that no one else wants to help. We want to help young people, give them hope. We're building a center with computers, and six months before they're slated to be released, we start training them. I also bought a plot of land in the Dominican Republic, and we're building an orphanage there. I hope it will be up and running by 2008.

And obviously, the schools in Puerto Rico. I already gave a big donation to buy computers for kids in 16 schools. It's a project called Blin Blineando las Escuelas (Putting Bling Bling Into Our Schools). We've also helped with playgrounds, water fountains.

Q: You're still as accessible as when we first met. Is that important to you?

A: Honestly, that's who I am. I'm very close to the day-to-day. A lot of times, I don't use security. I go out with my posse, we go to baseball games, and I wear a hat so people won't recognize me. But somebody always does. If I'm traveling in first class, and everybody else is in the back, I get bored and go there, too. It's 25 years in the hood. You don't lose that so quickly.

Reuters/Billboard

• Email Story
• IM Story
• Printable View

RECOMMEND THIS STORY

Recommend It:

Not at All Somewhat Moderately Highly Very Highly

Average (Not Rated)

» Recommended Stories