Grim Determination

YK—Who Do's it Vol. 3

Article By Coffy Davis

Photo by Rett Peek

"Is there anything outside of music that you would like to do?"

The question hangs in the air like the putrid smell of a dream unfulfilled. After the brief moment of silence passes, the Arkansas-based 26-year-old rapper-producer known as YK, sitting in typical G uniform (white T-shirt, dark jeans, and corn roll style braids) contemplates his answer. A sinister grin appears as he looks slightly to the left, as if the thought alone invokes images of the more deviant lifestyle one might be drawn to in the event of a musical demise, before offering a simple "Nope."

He offers no further explanation, and from one professed music lover to another, none is needed. We smile, and there's an unspoken mutual understanding that requires no extra explaining. He hasn't had a traditional job since 2000 and won't be searching the newspaper want-ad section anytime soon either, he acknowledges. "I may not be good at too much of anything else." Any hard driven music maker in pursuit of his own vision will have to admit, the music business is a full time job in itself.

He's not only the producer and main recording engineer of power house label Grim Muzik, home to a host of A-state hard hitters, but Kevin "YK" Mitchell shares the CEO chair with his brother David "Big Dave" Mitchell and has produced beats for many artists here locally, as well as big name national acts like E40, Paul Wall, and Juvenile.

Photo by Rett Peek

"My motivation comes from life itself."

He was born in Arkansas but moved to San Diego, California, in what would be a life-altering experience. He reminisces on the Golden State with a mixture of emotions. "California was crazy. Things moved a lot faster there. I guess that could be a good thing and a bad thing." The shimmering beaches, breath taking sunsets, and temperatures that averaged from an easy 71 to 48 degrees year round wasn't all that the place dubbed “America's finest city" had to offer. His expression is blank as he remembers, "There was a lot of crime, a lot of murders, people getting killed." The rising crime rate and the high cost of living made YK appreciate the slower pace of the South.

In 1998, his senior year in high school, he returned to his hometown for a much needed respite. The return, however, proved to be bittersweet. Soon he found himself struggling to cope with the loss of his older brother, Eric Mitchell, and the uncertain circumstances surrounding his death, along with the realization that he may not be eligible for graduation. He discovered that many of the thirty-something credits from his California school wouldn't transfer to Mills High School. Two weeks before his graduation ceremony, YK, as he puts it, "quit-uated." That would be, in his words, "the opposite of graduated." He says dryly, "I went to Metro but was too thrown off balance after my brother died." About the only pleasant thing that came out of this repository of memories was the destined meeting between YK and fellow future label mates P.I., Richie B and Playa Spade. They would all become key members of the Grim Muzik Camp, which was derived from their first group name G-riders and was an acronym for "The Greatest Rappers in Muzik."

Photo by Rett Peek

"Music still has a heart beat."

Yes, as children of the 90's, we have a weakness for gangster rap, like some guilty pleasure that forces us to involuntarily nod our head to bass-heavy depictions of street life. It would be easy to dismiss YK as yet another rapper still holding on to the pistol grip of our late great gangster past. He has the confident swagger of any given rapper in any given hood—the game’s the same. But let's face it, when all the "fast cars and bad broads" are gone, it all comes down to sixteen bars. To be or not to be an MC: that was the question.

I closed my spiral and slipped the Grim Muzik official mixtape, Who Do's It, Vol. 3, into my bag and nodded. Impressive packaging. There was no Sharpie-sketched John Hancock sloppily applied to a CD-R. I'm no Russell Simmons, but hey, packaging is important to hip-hop heads and suburbanites alike. If you don't care enough about your product to put money in it, why would we?

"I want to do music my way. I want my songs and style to show leadership."

The first track, “Ridin in the A-state,” was a good clue as to what was to come, a true rider's anthem that reeks of candy paint and Black and Mild's. The hook-verse formula seems simple, but one would be surprised at how many artists forget to actually write a song. With this first track you get the feeling of a complete song. Add the heavy bass guitar, courtesy of Joey G, and the soulful, 70's style vocals of Wax, Platinum Black, and stand-out Shea Marie, the label Ms' with the rare jewel of a voice that's easily comparable to Mary J., and what you have is the makings of a hit. This is not just a radio-friendly ring-tone-ready song either, but one G's can lean back on their leather and wood and appreciate as well.

Photo by Rett Peek

"Starving artist couldn't even eat off my table scraps."

From top to finish the album seems to be a glance into a day in the life of a trapper turned rapper, or maybe the reverse, who knows. And who's snitching? I'm just appreciating good music. Okay, maybe I am still listening to Richboy's own version of his hot tracks, and YK rolled up and snatched them D's right off the top of the charts and put them on his mixtape. But if it’s hot, it’s hot, and as YK puts it, "We gonna take what's hot and rock it a little better." His lyrical proficiency runs laps around the Alabama beat, and it works. That's how he do's it. So in the tradition of West Coast hero Ice Cube, he's jacking—for beats that is. He even manages to go dumb on some Bay Area Hyphy music on track 12, titled, “Candy.” It’s all out of California love, though. "I love the Hyphy energy. It’s kind of like crunk, but more West Coast," he states.

The overwhelming theme seems to be summed up on track 8, “Money, Money, Money,” pulled from the classic Mario Van Peebles film New Jack City. Guest appearances range from duo Dre and Jontai, who are most known for their hit, “Jump Rope,” to local favorite 607, to the young Grim Muzik protégés, Combination, who throw in some good down-South party music with "Just Twerk," a decent club banger. Over all, the album has consistency and gives us a grim view of life, music, and money. There's even six original tracks, so don't sleep on his production skills. Although he'll be the first to admit, "Rap is my first love," production is like his girl on the side, who no doubt has been taking up a great deal of his time.

GRIM Muzik mixtape review