Surveillance of the current hip-hop scene turns up a plethora of rappers who are carbon copies of successful artist that came before them. From their content, to their flow, to their delivery, even down to their style, they are exercises in redundancy. Not so with Wale (Wah-lay). The twenty-two year old son, of Nigerian born parents, grew up in Washington DC loving music in every form. When I was younger, I would beat on oatmeal containers with these sticks my parents used to clean their teeth with, Wale recalls. That instinctive love of music evolved into some eclectic music taste. I listened to everything: Phil Collins, Salt and Pepa, Eric B and Rakim, the Beatles, Jodeci, Shabba Ranks, Prince, Wale reels off. In what now appears to be a normal part of his growth, Wale started rapping at school and on the block with his friends. Initially it was strictly recreation and release, but it soon turned into a challenge. I started wanting to master the art of music, says Wale. I wanted to be able to rap to the phone ringing, because it sounded like music to me. I just liked the idea of putting words to it. Wale was almost putting those words together where only guards and few homies could hear him.
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