He was pulled in to replace Busta, who, at the last minute, had decided to spend the weekend with his father in Brooklyn.
When they arrrived at 510 they found a line around the block. Everybody wanted to be a star. Juice and co. were the youngest guys there and Juice the only non-black person. ‘I was the only Puerto Rican there,’ he reflects, ‘but I didn’t give a fuck.’ 510 South Franklin Ave is a big building. Back in those days, Eric had a demo rehearsal place on the first floor. Directly above him was the dentist’s. Spectrum City and EJ the DJ shared the space above Dr Gant’s office.
When they finally reached the end of the queue Juice and Brown discovered two things. Firstly, that they would have to audition individually as solo acts. This meant the routine they had practised would have to wait for another day. Even worse, there would be no battling. They would have to showcase their skills in a different way. Juice was especially upset with this. ‘Me? I’m the battle dude. I thought I was gonna battle K-Jee and Mellow D. I was like, “I’m dying to fuck these dudes up, I can’t wait!” They were amused by my attitude. I know they weren’t worried about it. But I was dead serious.’ Instead he had to prove his worth on two SL-1300 turntables. Armed with two copies of ‘Funky President’ he proceeded to scratch – once he had acquired some milkcrates to stand on.
For their competition, the rappers had to sift through some beats on a drum machine. Once they chose something they liked, each contestant had a minute and a half to show and prove. Brown and Daqwuan grabbed the mic. A week after the talent contest Juice got a job at Burger King. On his second day, a Sunday, Chuck called him with the good news. At 8 o’clock on Monday morning, Juice (and all of the other young guns that were picked) showed up at 510 South Franklin to see if this was something he was really gonna rock with, or if Brown’s apprehensions were well founded. Brown hadn’t been picked and was perhaps a little green-eyed.
Upon arrival, Juice was shocked to see logos and names for seven groups that didn’t yet exist. One of the groups was Leaders of the New School. Another was Terminal Illness Crew, supposedly the first white rap group. There was also the Kings of Pressure, Son of Bazerk, Hellraisers, True Mathematics and The Invisible Empire.
At the time there weren’t many hip-hop groups with a lot of members. Stetsasonic were yet to put out any records and the Wu-Tang Clan wouldn’t blow up until the start of the next decade. So putting six emcees and two DJs in one group, when four was usually the limit, was unheard of, it was a big deal. But this was the Spectrum master plan: ‘Chuck was like, “I’ve picked you guys for your speed and for your attitude.” That’s when I realised he liked my whole “fuck you” attitude.’ The penny dropped. The names, concepts and logos for these groups had been pre-chosen, and the talent contest had taken place to find members to fit. Juice decided this was something he was gonna mess with and he joined the Kings of Pressure, a name evidently inspired by the nickname of a Philadelphia suburb, ‘King of Prussia’.
The Kings of Pressure immediately went to work on some four-track demos that would win them a lightly lucrative deal with Next Plateau Records. Throughout the time Juice was recording with the Kings of Pressure, the future PE personnel heard him scratch and earmarked him for the record that would become Yo! Bum Rush the Show. ‘They were like, “Yo, we’re working on an album for our group Public Enemy, and we want you to come in and do some scratching.” I’m like, “Sure, whatever”.’ In order to familiarise him with the material he would be working on, Chuck began giving Juice rides home in his grey Cougar after recording was finished. Juice’s home town of Uniondale was right next to Roosevelt, where Chuck lived, so it wasn’t a problem. Along the way he would play the tunes that would become PE’s debut album. Juice’s ‘fairly photographic’ memory meant he could memorise each track and then work out which records to bring when he next rolled through the studio. Of course, Keith and Chuck had an extensive (and catalogued) record collection up in 510, but Juice liked to use his own tools. He ended up fitting into the swing of things fairly quickly. ‘We would go up there and I would pull records out, I was the master at pulling records out. Throwing shit in to make it fit.’
All the while, the youngsters in the crew were learning from the older members. Eric Sadler was teaching Juice and Keith how to programme drum machines and samplers. ‘Eventually, Keith and I would just sit in that little room and just work on shit,’ says Juice. ‘We’d come up with records based on a little vibe that was happening. He’d come up with a little beat, I’d grab some records and start scratching them in. That was my introduction to Public Enemy.’
The demo version of ‘Public Enemy Number One’ was recorded in December 1984, a full two years before it became their debut twelve-inch release for Def Jam. Chuck took it up to WBAU and gave it to Dr Dre who played it on his show The Operating Room. Jam Master Jay was also in the studio, and he liked what he heard. ‘It became a mainstay on WBAU, and it shut those guys up,’ Chuck says of the Play Hard Crew who inspired the record when they challenged Chuck. ‘Jay was like, “Yo, that shit is hot.”’ What happened next is subject to debate.
According to some, Jam Master Jay was the first person to play the demo of ‘Public Enemy Number One’ to Rick Rubin, who co-founded Def Jam with Russell Simmons. But other insiders insist Dr Dre did the deed. It could quite easily have been either. They were both present when the song was brought to the studio after all. Jay, a big fan of their radio show, had such enthusiasm for hip-hop that he was constantly playing the newest joints to any and everyone he came across. Naturally, Chuck still has mad love for Jam Master Jay after all these years. ‘Jay would tape every show and then take it back on tour and all that so of course it got around and “Public Enemy Number One” would be the hot song.’ It’s also entirely possible that Dre – who would himself enjoy a hit with ‘Can You Feel It’ as part of Original Concept– played it for Rick when trying to hustle his way through the door. Original Concept would go on to release their debut album Straight from the Basement of Cooley High on Def Jam.
According to Dre, he played it for Run DMC and The Beastie Boys on a tour bus while he was DJing for The Beasties. ‘I was playing them a bunch of stuff that we had from the station and this one tape stuck out. They were going, ‘This “Public Enemy Number One” record is crazy Dre, you gotta take it to Rick, you gotta take it to Rick.’ At the time I was doing the Original Concept stuff so I said, “Let me take it up there.”’
He duly passed it on to both Def Jam head honchos, but didn’t receive the response he’d hoped for. ‘I gave it to Rick Rubin and Russell Simmons. Russell threw it out the window. I put it in the deck, played it, and Russell got it and just threw it out the window. I said, “Yo man, why you throw my tape out the window?”’ While Russell obviously didn’t like it, Rick called Dre back in two days. ‘He was like, “We’re gonna sign ’em, we’re gonna sign ’em!”’ Bill Stephney, who by this time had graduated from working in promotions to become vice-president at Def Jam, insists that this is how it went down. But regardless of who played it for him first, Rubin was determined that he would sign whoever was responsible for such a groundbreaking song. Bill Stephney was in no doubt of Rick’s seriousness.
‘Rick said, “We gotta sign Chuckie D. If you don’t sign Chuckie D you’re fired!” In a typical Rick Rubin sort of way. So I’m like, “Is he gonna fire me with all this success that’s happening?” They only have like one employee: me. What kind of sense does that make?’ Despite his tactics and personal quirks, Rubin proved how ahead of his time he was. He caught on to how special ‘Public
