Q&A with Brother Ali

Brother Ali is a twenty-nine-year-old rapper who moved to Minneapolis from Michigan when he was fifteen and attended Cooper High. He is an “underground rapper” and an albino and a Muslim, and you're more likely to hear about him and find his music on The Current than KDWB. His fourth album, The Undisputed Truth, comes out this month on Rhymesayers, the local record label that has issued hometown hip-hop icon Slug, from Atmosphere. On Truth, Ali exhibits the same thick angry baritone that rumbled through his first releases, using it to explore issues of personal identity—the twin pillars of color and creed—his divorce, custody of his young son, his old neighborhood, and even politics.

Are you more annoyed with the albino question or the Muslim question?
Yes. Well, there are all-right questions that could be asked about them. I think writers are a lot like rappers, in the sense that you have a few who are really trying to do something new, who really put a lot of thought into what they do. And the other 98 percent are completely worthless.

Are you African American? 
No. 

What ethnicity are your parents?
I would say that I’m kind of reluctant to be pinned down. This is a broad generalization—but a lot of people don’t see the difference between ethnicity and race. The white category and the black category were created pretty much by the Western world, pretty much by America. America is when all European people were united under the moniker of “white.”

You sound happier on this record.
There’s one happy song on there, and it’s the last one. With this album, I was trying to make songs that address those moments where your life changes. The moment when you realize that this marriage is done. That I’m gonna have to break up my family. And it’s just me doing it. When I had my son, we moved from North Minneapolis and I was trying to get as far away from the ’hood as I could. So I took all of my tour money from two or three tours and took my car and moved to Edina. I wanted to see bunnies, I didn’t want to see rats. I wanted the nicest, quietest shit that I could possibly have. So after the divorce, I got custody, and me and my son went right back out to starting out again. Being on the number 5 bus again. Going from place to place. I didn’t have furniture. I left everything with her.

On the record, you talk about partying and say “motherf ––––r. ” It’s hard to party without beer or bacon. How Muslim do you consider yourself?
You know, I follow the rules of Islam. I don’t drink. I haven’t drunk since I became Muslim. And I don’t run around with girls after my show. I’m a Muslim because I believe in it, not because I’m trying to force myself to be one.

Does that mean that there are parts of your real self that can’t conform to the religion?
I guess the main thing is the way that I talk. There are other things about me that I know aren’t quite right; I’m struggling with them.

Like what?
The people who loved me and took care of me early on were people of color. But my parents are white, man. And having that connection to them, but not being close to them, and seeing their arrogance with other people, and their racism, no matter how latent. So I spent some  time being really angry at all white people.

You drop references to PC historian Howard Zinn and your hero is Malcolm X. Are you one of those “conscientious” rappers?
Not intentionally. I do look at the mainstream industry and I want no part of it. All of that posturing and lying about your story and having to have fake conflicts with other artists. I mean, they f–––––g shoot each other! It feels like it’s going back to the sixties, where those guys had to whiten up, like Wilson Pickett and Sam Cooke. Now, they have to dumb down. Before it was “They’re black, but they’re clean cut and they speak well.” And now it’s “Look at these monsters! Ah, shit, they’re crazy!”