MO' META Blues Part 22

James Stiles: Bombs/teardrops.

James Gadson: The breaks.

Steve Ferrone: My idol.

Clyde Stubblefield and John "Jabo" Starks: My foundation.

Tika Sumpter: You've come a long way. Proud.

Darryll Brooks: The legacy.

Cynthia Horner: My first source!

Pino Palladino: The steadiest perfect pulse.

Alison Brie: I'm still shaking my head...

Chris Schwartz: You gave an intern the loan that began his professional career. Thank you very much.

Neal Brennan: You are the white Richard Nichols. Next book, you are doing counter footnotes.

Erica Toper: You were the last person to whom I'm doing this impossible mission and I'm running out of names.

Antoniette Costa: The nicest, gentlest human I know. So glad I know you.

Jon Shecter: You gave me the keys.

Rachel Feinstein: Of all my greasees... I loved greasing you up the most.

Corey Shapiro: You've kept more gray hair on my business manager's head than any human being I know. Thank you for my newfound addiction to frame collecting.

Prince and J Dilla: My two musical heroes who built this machine. I hope you are proud of your work.

In 1971, Philadelphia, with my best gal.

I was six months old when this picture was taken in our house on Osage Avenue. The Sears photographer actually made house calls back then.

My sister and I in the New York studio where I would spend most of 1974 and meet Bernard Purdie, who consistently hammered home the fact that I had to keep it "on the two and four."

Playing on the floor at my Grandmother's Compton, California, house. This is where I stayed when my parents were recording their Congress Alley alb.u.m in 1972.

Three years old, standing with the man who taught me everything about the music business-Lee Andrews, my father.

In my backyard in West Philadelphia. I was four years old here.

Sitting on my favorite item in the world-my father's "Don't You Dare Touch My" stereo.

Before luxury tour buses, most bands either traveled in broken-down Greyhounds or ancient school buses. Here I am with my father's band in Richmond, Virginia. That's my mom, Jacqueline, sitting at the far right, with my aunt Karen next to her. My sister Donn is to the right of me. It should be noted that this is the period when I picked up my habit of wearing my favorite band's iron-on logo on my T-s.h.i.+rts. If you squint, you might be able to see that I was in my Average White Band phase.

My parents would do season-long residencies at different resorts and casinos. The entire summer of '76 we were in Miami. I still can't swim.

Me at age five in Muncie, Indiana. It's Sat.u.r.day, October 16, 1976. The reason why I know this is because the "Emotions/Rimshots/Ritchie Family" episode of Soul Train was playing in the background.

This photo is notable because this is when I developed my habit... of learning the family trade. This particular Valley Forge Sheraton hotel is where, at the tender age of six, I would learn to iron suits, cut light gels, and operate my father's light and sound system. So after a hard day's work, I was allowed to relax and have a drink at the bar (don't worry, it's a s.h.i.+rley Temple).

I rebelled against wearing a suit and tie knowing that some thirty-five years later, when writing my memoir, it would be way more impressive to have taken this photo wearing a Bee-Gees T-s.h.i.+rt rather than the suit and tie.

This is all a ruse. Inside of that black floor tom to my left lies all the Purple contraband that I was not allowed to listen to in my then-Christian household.

The internet has already seen my Senior Prom photo with Amel Larrieux. Ever the completist, I give thee my Junior Prom photo. For some reason, I can't find a picture with my date, but I swear that she existed.

My senior graduation photo. My s.h.i.+rt is made of cardboard. No seriously, my s.h.i.+rt is literally made of cardboard. And believe it or not, my senior quote that went along with this photo was: "Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahboyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

This was our first year as the Square Roots, with Joshua Abrams on ba.s.s (toward the top left), Kid Crumbs as the sidekick (sitting on the right in the hat and vest), me on drums, and Tariq on the mic. For every performance, we'd buy twenty large bags of popcorn and throw them at the audience. Club owners in Philly were not amused. Credit: Mpozi Tolbert

In Helsinki, Finland. This photo provides proof that we didn't always get to fly first cla.s.s. Credit: Ginny Suss

Inglourious Basterds moment... playing "Celebrity" in a hotel room with our tour manager and some friends. Basically, you choose a Post-It with a celebrity name on it and stick it to your head. Your partner then has to describe that celebrity to you, without using their name, and you have to guess who you are. Kirsten Dunst taught me how to play this game. Credit: Ginny Suss

Group photo with our backs to some fifty-thousand-or-so Coach.e.l.lians. This one was snapped sometime in 2003 on the Phrenology tour-going from left to right, we've still got Hub on ba.s.s, Martin Luther had joined us on vocals, Kamal, Black Thought, Frank Knuckles, me, and Cap'n Kirk on guitar. Credit: Ginny Suss

At the mixing boards on the first day of a long, three-year process of recording the Reverend Al Green's Lay It Down. I promised him that I would get him his first R&B Grammy. I lied. He got two. Credit: Ginny Suss

In the studio with Tunde Adebimpe and Kyp Malone from TV on the Radio. This was sometime in 2008 for Soundtrack for a Revolution, a Danny Gloverproduced doc.u.mentary that featured contemporary artists reworking Civil Rights Movementthemed protest songs. Credit: Ginny Suss

Yasiin Bey (formerly known as Mos Def) hops on vocals during my set. After months of campaigning, I DJed a celebration in NYC. Obama had just won. Credit: Ginny Suss

In Las Vegas, MDing a band I call the "Illadelphonics," comprised of some Roots and some other incredible musicians who came out of Philly (including Adam Blackstone, Omar Edwards, and Jeff Bradshaw), for Jay-Z's preNew Year's show in 2007, when he was still my boss at Def Jam. This photo is me and Jay in rehearsals.

This is backstage before the real show, with Jay-Z and Just Blaze, later that week. Credit: Ginny Suss

With Erykah Badu on the first night of the New Amerykah tour in Boston, Ma.s.sachusetts. She will soon be my rival in DJing. Credit: Ginny Suss.

Indulging in overindulgence on the Game Theory tour. I let the Chili Peppers' Chad Smith talk me into investing in a drum set that lit up every time you hit it. It was the cost of a small condominium and I only got to use it for one month until it broke. Credit: Ginny Suss

In my record room in Philly, right after the release of my Nike Air Questos, summer of'08. I finally have a shoe. Credit: Ginny Suss

With Tariq at the boards on the day we finished recording Rising Down. Credit: Ginny Suss

Christmas week at my new job on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon. Credit: Dana Edelson

Opening for Dave Matthews at Madison Square Garden. We literally ran off the Fallon set, jumped on the subway to MSG, and made it onstage just in time. Credit: Ginny Suss

In 2013, Los Angeles, with my best gal. Credit: Maisha Stephens-Teacher

1. Ahmir, do you fully remember what videos were like back then? People were losing their d.a.m.n minds over the fact that all of a sudden there were black videos on TV. It's not that there weren't black TV stars or actors at that time, but you just didn't see black people in a more-or-less natural element. I remember how, once, a girl in the neighborhood who was friends with my then-wife came into the house and there was a video with black people playing on TV. She fell to the floor and started crying. It had that kind of impact.

2. When I went to jazz shows, especially avant-garde jazz shows, there were never really any black people in attendance. Hip-hop venues varied. In the earliest stages of hip-hop, the s.h.i.+t was almost novelty music. But then the downtown art scene granted it credibility, and that meant a changing audience. By the time you had records selling two million copies, you had white people listening-there just wasn't any other way to account for those sales. I remember being somewhere painting someone's house and there were some white kids listening to Public Enemy's Fear of a Black Planet. It didn't seem that strange. There was a connection between them and Anthrax for a reason. The noise felt post-punk and metal-ish. It tapped into an adolescent discontent that was universal.