Phat Kat

Posted on 05.3.2006

Phat Kat
Birth name Ronnie Watts
Origin Detroit
Label : Look Records

Phat Kat Biography :

You can forgive Phat Kat for being supremely confident ; it’s a trait he’s had all his life. And though this legendary Detroit MC (“from the East side,” he points out) has had his share of ups and downs in the music industry, he refuses to badmouth former labels, preferring to express himself in his rhymes. “I’m not even gonna say nothing, I’m gonna let it show in the music,” he says adamantly.

No doubt, resiliency has been a hallmark for Phat Kat, a pioneer of the Detroit hip-hop scene who was putting it down for the underground long before anyone ever heard of Eminem, Proof, D12, Slum Village, Natas, or Royce the 5’9.” And while rap from “the D” has come into the national limelight in recent years, few of Detroit’s current crop of MCs boast a track record or reputation as credible as Phat Kat. “Most cats don’t know the history of hip-hop in Detroit. Cats don’t know that they had a culture” prior to the release of 8 Mile, he says. Reason being, “Detroit is a city of followers,” he explains. "If you’re not on (BET’s) 106th & Park, they’re not feeling you.” Nevertheless, he says, "I’m not making music for Detroit, I’m making music for myself. That’s why we call it soul music. It’s your soul you’re putting up there."

Phat Kat may not be a household name yet, but he can claim to be both a leader and an innovator. Back in the early ‘90s, he helped to put the D on the hip-hop map as a member of First Down, pairing with legendary DJ/producer J Dilla (R.I.P.), then known as Jay Dee, years before Dilla’s involvement in Slum Village. To Phat Kat, Dilla was the greatest of all time, more than just a collaborator, but a friend whose loss will be sorely felt.

After meeting Guru and Dj Premier during a promotional stop through Detroit in 1994, Phat Kat gave them a demo tape - the first demo he had ever passed on to industry folks, he says — and ended up getting signed to Payday Records on the strength of one song, the now-classic “Front Street.” The song appeared on the Representing the Streets compilation, and First Down seemed poised to be one of the first midwestern groups to blow up nationally. Unfortunately, their label was folded into a much larger company and they were lost in transition. Phat Kat says the experience was “devastating,” but it didn’t deter him from pursuing a career in music – if anything, it strengthened his resolve. “I use that as coal for the fire. That’s why I’m so tenacious in my rhymes,” he says.

The MC also known as Ronnie Cash stayed on the grind in the ensuing years, putting out independent projects, appearing on albums by Dilla and Slum Village, hitting the road frequently, and waiting for another shot to prove he belonged among hip-hop’s elite. In 2004, after inking a deal with Barak and releasing his first solo album Undeniable, he thought he’d finally broken through. Despite critical praise, ultimately, he fell through the cracks of the music industry once again – an issue he addresses on “My Old Label,” a Dilla-produced banger from his new album, Carte Blanche.

Scheduled to be released on LOOK Records in early 2007, the album finally gives Phat Kat his due credit. At long last, he notes, “I’m with a label that sees my vision.” Dilla contributes five tracks, but the work of up-and-coming producers Nick Speed, Young RJ, and Black Milk is just as impressive. Other guests include SV’s Elzhi and T3, Truth Hurts, Melanie Rutherford, Fat Ray, Loe Louis and Guilty Simpson. Rather than pursuing cameos and features from overexposed stars, Phat Kat chose instead to work with his peoples from the D, figuring “the people I got on my album is just as hot as people that’s out.”

As a result, the album feels more like a collaborative effort than an artificially assembled project. On the opening track, “Nasty Ain’t It,” Dilla sets up Phat Kat with a down ‘n’ dirty, futuristic funk groove, over which the MC spits, “real talk, shed light on you when it’s still dark/ ride the brand-new wheels off while you still walk.” On “Cold Steel,” another Dilla-produced doozy, Phat Kat and Elzhi trade rugged stanzas which make the line “it don’t get no liver than this” seem highly believable. Black Milk holds down both production and mic duties on “Danger,” also featuring T3, a track which warns, “it’s time to change the game up.” On “Nightmare,” Phat Kat teams with Guilty Simpson to tell a criminal-minded tale of hustle and entrepreneurship, “making deals while I’m chilling in my lounge chair.” Though Phat Kat likes grimy beats to complement his grimy flows, “Lovely” shows he can adapt to a smooth beat (by Young RJ) with equal finesse, as Melanie Rutherford adds mellow neo-soul vocals. “I let it percolate before I appropriate/ and before I hit the stage make sure my dough be great,” he spits on “Pressure,” while "Truth Hurts" cops a Cleopatra Jones-type attitude on the chorus : “don’t walk up on me/cause I got pressure.” In the vein of EPMD’s “Jane,” Phat Kat continues his own tradition with “True Story Pt. 2”-appropriately based on a true story, he says. “I’ma always have a true story on my albums,” he explains.

With its mix of original, streetwise rhymes that fall somewhere between gangsta, conscious, and backpack, grooves that can take you from the gutter to the VIP and back, and production that innovates rather than imitates, Carte Blanche is like no Detroit album you’ve ever heard before. It maintains the standard for excellence set by Phat Kat’s cohorts Dilla and Slum Village, but with a much more hardcore thrust. Asked what the album’s title means to him, Phat Kat says with a laugh, “Absolute authority. Full power,” adding, “It’s a good thing.” With this album, he says, he’s daring people to “take responsibility for their own actions.” As for himself, “Every time I step in the booth, I’m trying make some classic shit,” he promises.