Kari Wei

Though heavily associated with multiple crews, Angel Davanport is a force to be reckoned with all on her own. One only has to see her live or watch the videos of her performances to understand why. Not only is she a true talent, she expresses said talent with admirable versatility. She first caught the attention of Strange Music’s Tech N9ne during an impromptu green room singing performance at Chicago’s House of Blues—when she followed up her undeniable vocal talent by rapping a few bars, the prolific, radical underground rapper was hooked. She has since collaborated with Tech and the Game on his album Something Else, released a monster of an EP titled FREEPU$$Y, and dropped a host of collaborations with various members of her respective collectives, Skigh Mob and the Rapper Chicks. We paid Angel and her fellow Rapper Chicks a visit at the Chicago Cultural Center as they were preparing for SXSW, at which they have since performed to much-deserved fanfare.

What’s your music story? I feel like everyone who does music has a progression.

I started performing in grammar school. I acted in plays until high school, which is when I started getting involved with slams. That’s how I found out about YCA [Young Chicago Authors]. I was getting into a lot of trouble—my friends were getting in trouble and I was getting in trouble trying to stick up for them. I met with one of my poetry teachers, Ms. Qadir, and she told me, I can’t have you out in the streets fucking your life up; you should be in my honors English class and my poetry class. I started working with YCA through Ms. Qadir, and then I just got sucked into the slam world. After that, I wasn’t really sure where my life was taking me. I was starting college at the University of Illinois, I was working toward becoming a teaching artist with YCA. Unlike a lot of people who were super involved with music when they were younger, I wasn’t really involved with hip-hop—I didn’t even listen to it much until I was about sixteen, seventeen. I didn’t know what to do with my life, but I knew I was a hard worker, so I went and got a catering job. I did office work at school, I was teaching with YCA and writing…and then I got this form on my desk that said, go work for Disney! I took that as a sign. They accepted me into the program, so I moved to Florida. After working for Disney I came home and felt really lost. I got into rap listening to those of my friends who were rappers—poets too, but mainly hip-hop artists—wanting to freestyle, wanting to write.

I feel like having a writing background helps coming into it. People who write first end up having some of the best bars.

It’s definitely a gift and a curse. I can write stories really well. That’s the part that I like. Because I’m not really the best at writing cracks and punch lines yet, but I recognize that’s my weak point, my challenge area. I’m getting to be the best emcee I can be.

Why start rapping instead of just sticking to singing? Because clearly you can sing and you’ve always known that.

Why not? You know? I like to sing, I like the challenge of rap. It’s exciting. I’m a woman, so people don’t anticipate that when I get on stage I’m gonna open my mouth and be rapping. I think they look at me and think dirty things right away. But I don’t mind that because nothing really changes. They’re just surprised—a lot of people are. That’s the kicker I get out of it. I feel like I’m versatile as an artist, and I just want to be able to talk to everybody.

Why do you think there are so few women featured in hip hop, especially when there are so many talented and hard-working female emcees?

There are going to be a million guys who are average, but there can only be one woman who is amazing. Some guys aren’t even average. They’re just bad rappers, but they have a lot of steez, a lot of swag. And that’s cool, but I think there is a stereotype, a glass ceiling in hip-hop. You can’t go that far if you’re a girl. Well, you can go far, but you can’t


Because there’s only room for one girl in the crew.

Exactly. And every other girl is a ho or a bitch or not good enough. But that’s not necessarily the case! If you put all the raw girls together then you’d realize how raw they are. You don’t have to have a man validating you, telling you what to do, dictating who you are and what kind of music you make and what your style is and what you look like.

Sexuality is something you’ve often talked about and have referenced in your music, especially the recent FREEPU$$Y EP. What do you think of society’s current attitude on sexuality?

I think society’s outlook is that a man could have sex with whoever he wants, and it doesn’t matter because he’s a man. But a woman should only have sex with one person. A friend of mine was talking to another friend yesterday, and he was like, women should live like they’re in the fifties. And that’s not reality. There’s nothing to be ashamed of as far as sex goes, as far as your body goes. Everyone’s weird, everyone’s gross, everyone has an ass, everyone farts. There are some guys that pretend things like that don’t happen. It’s very admirable when I see other women who manage to just ignore people coming at them, calling them hos, calling them sluts, calling them bitches, telling them that they’re not good enough, they don’t work hard enough, they should be in the kitchen or having babies or
 It takes a lot to stand up and say: “You’re not going to talk down to me, you’re not going to treat me like I’m not human or less of a human.”

I know you teach some of the time, and you often speak fondly of your “kids” on social media. What is education’s role in your life?

I was doing RhymeSchool with the girls [Psalm One and Fluffy] through this program called Innovations, so I started teaching with them. Then I came to Uplift. My kids are amazing, but they’re scared, and they put on fronts. Going to school, being around them all the time, having their friends sit in on practices, it went from being fifty-fifty about me and them to being like, this is not even for me. I’m just a vessel here to teach these children. They taught me to be more open, to be stronger about what I believe in because they are so straightforward. If they like something, they like it. If they don’t, they don’t.

It was not all about teaching them to write, it was just teaching them to be real with themselves and to be people. To communicate, and not to be mean to each other. You have to be considerate of everybody. It was like life training as opposed to teaching. I teach for those reasons, and it feels so good. I was very defeated about being a teaching artist. I didn’t believe in myself for a long time at all. So I learned to be secure in myself.

What else besides teaching gave you the strength that you said you found in the last year and a half?

I went through some situations that I felt were not good for me. I felt like I was being taken advantage of, and that I was not ready for certain things. But I’m figuring out how to take all of those moments in my life and instead of reacting to them in a way where I keep it inside, don’t share it, and then explode, I just put them into the things that I like to do. Like teaching, and writing. A friend once asked me, what could you not live without? That’s probably it—those, performing, and people. People who defeat me and make me at the same time. I’m learning that I’m a vessel and I’m comfortable with that.

How did growing up on the South Side help form you and how does it continue to influence you?

I was born in Cabrini, but I moved out of there when I was very young, so I don’t have too many stories or memories.

So it wasn’t as big of a deal to you when it got knocked down.

It wasn’t for me, but it was for my dad, my aunts, and my grandmother. I didn’t understand it then, but when I lost my house when I was a little older I understood what it was like. So we moved to a place around the Gates Park area, and I was running from it for so long. Everyone at my school would say, look at this light-skinned white little thing trying to come in here and be herself, or not really be herself. I was afraid to be myself for a long time. But I used to hang out at 79th and Wood, 82nd and Hermitage, with my best friends, watching Bakugan and Slender Man, playing Xbox, going into Boystown. I was really weird. But I’ve learned just recently that I had to get back to my roots. I was getting Christmas presents from my mom that I was very appreciative of, but I realized that she didn’t really know what to get me. It just made me realize that I didn’t know who I was as a person, and I didn’t really know where I came from. So I thought, man, I have to go back and dig. And it’s never scary. The scariest part is knowing that my parents are getting older. I only have one grandmother left. So I spend time with them just to know them, to learn about who I am and where I come from. I was definitely feeling very defeated about not knowing myself. I do to an extent now, enough to be comfortable with a lot of the decisions I make. So now I just think, how do I become a better person? How do I be true to myself, how do I give off these good vibes? How do I communicate with people that I don’t like? I don’t get nervous, but I do overthink. And there’s never a reason to overthink when we don’t know what anybody else is thinking. You should react, as opposed to acting upon and then reacting. I’m just trying to figure out how to give my blessings away and get my blessings at the same time.

Three songs you’ve been listening to recently—go!

“Legend” by Drake. “Liquorice” by Azealia Banks. “Reach” by Martin $ky and Saba.

What is it like being part of two crews, two collectives [Skigh Mob and Rapper Chicks]?

Skigh Mob is like my family. I’ve been a part of them for nine or ten years. They raised me, they taught me how to rap, they treat the shit out of me when I fuck up, they keep me on track. We grew up together and we’re just real with each other. Rapper Chicks? That was an idea that was brought to me that actually flourished, and it’s going to continue flourishing. I co-made that. I’m a co-creator [laughs]. I hope that doesn’t sound too fucked up. But yeah, the Rapper Chicks are going to go far. We have a lot of great opportunities. We’re performing at SXSW. We consist of Ill-Esha, Fluffy, Psalm, and myself. We’re welcoming girls everywhere, and we welcome everyone who does something. Because anybody could be a Rapper Chick. That’s what the Rapper Chicks is about. I feel like there are a million girls that could be Rapper Chicks that I respect. But no one’s listening. That’s why we need to band together.

I do have one final question for you. What happened with Strange [Tech N9ne’s record label]?

[laughs]

You don’t have to talk about it.

I’ll just say this—stay tuned.

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