We’re hanging out at MC Paul Barman’s lower Manhattan apartment listening to Beatles tunes on a secondhand disc player his chatty son, Felix, commandeers. Barman shows me a mint condition vinyl version of urban fiction mentor Iceberg Slim’s defunct masterpiece, Reflection, and forthrightly comments, “Iceberg was a master of the English language and pulp novels. His verbing nouns were brilliant, economical, and descriptive. He was slick talking, had depth of feeling, and a large personality.”

The same could be said of egalitarian Ridgewood, New Jersey native, Barman, a savvy Brown University-educated rapper, humorist, illustrative artist, and now, Househusband Records proprietor.

It’s been seven years since Barman dropped fascinating linguistic labyrinth Paullelujah, due to family obligations, part-time jobs, and music-related art in the interim. But he’s come back stronger than ever on ‘09s epic-sized Thought Balloon Mushroom Cloud.

“My structural layering, triple meanings, and speed of rhyme are intended for longevity and nourishment. It’s not available for surface clarity. The consensus was Paullelujah followed up (2000 debut) It’s Very Stimulating with talking Blues and word Jazz in an attempt to make a more emotionally wide ranging work. Although at the time I wasn’t good at it,” the modest erudite rhyme master quips. “I’m better at doing serious works now then with Paullelujah.”

An ambitious artisan, Barman enjoys setting his audience up for the unexpected, whether through music, on-line sketches, handbooks, resplendent limited vinyl, or the intriguingly prismatic Buck Moon Kaboom Mixtape. A nimble-tongued jester that could hold court with anyone, he’s shown appreciation for satirical cartoons as well as underground comic book legends R. Crumb and Harvey Pekar.

Despite some serious-minded apparitions spread across Thought Balloon Mushroom Cloud’s comprehensive oeuvre, Barman’s jollier tunes in collaboration with long-time hip-hop pals, Prince Paul (ex-Stetsasonic architect/ celebrated artist-producer) and MF Doom (Brit-born KMD protagonist/ rapping metal-faced Nuyorican poet), retain an instant like-ability easing mainstream access. The former helps out on spry ‘70s-styled pop charmer, “Get Along Gang,” commissioned by American Greeting Corporation for a cheesy revamped TV show that never came into fruition but wouldn’t feel out of place next to the Banana Splits’ catchy “Tra La La Song.”

Meanwhile, Doom’s featured on playful dual rhyme scheme, “Hot Guacamole” (initially titled “Bullocks,” abandoned for Paullelujah, then snuffed again by Doom’s euphonic cuisine enticement Mm Food). The playful teaser, utilizing Creedence Clearwater Revival’s jaunty “Down On The Corner” (Mushroom Cloud’s only obvious sample), gets equaled in insouciant splendor by snazzy Barman-Doom accord, “Go Sane,” a suavely posh New York-bound springtime chime.

In actuality, Barman’s not only returned to collect some “Props,” he’s here to snub ‘hate to laugh novelty acts’ and take a stance against hardcore rap’s compromised commercial gimmickry. But he’s not above snickering lowbrow slapstick a la the genitalia-connected triad bounding therapeutic injunction, “Get Help.”

His chameleon-like stylistic proclivities match his burning desire to delightfully transform and cleverly modify each successive endeavor undertaken. “Aids” jokes aren’t off-limits, even when Doctor Joyce Wallace’s involved. Yet “Drug Casual-T” seems grimly sobering. Barman’s prismatic propensities prove positive.

“My favorite logo is (cable network) Nickelodeon. They’ve created a recognizable brand that changes all the time through font and color. It’s aspirational,” he imparts.

 Thought Balloon Mushroom Cloud was originally available via your website, www.mcpaulbarman.com, November ’09. There’s now limited vinyl and a listener’s manual (lyric book).

PAUL B: I liken the slow role out to an egg with some shit and feathers still stuck to it. We were so constipated with this project we practically had to give the chicken a C-section. It’s using the working title for Paullalujah, but with the crucial chorus containing the words in “Science,” wherein I’m not only rhyming about splitting the atom but also doing so in Morse cadence, which is long and short syllables that spell out Thought Balloon Mushroom Cloud underneath other words. That’ll be the subject of YouTube’s “Pellet #2,” where I’ll explain how this rhythm/ rhyme operates. Another working title was Tears Of Joy – also not the greatest title. In retrospect, I should have called the album The Moon. It’s simple and relates to the songs and fits on YouTube’s 16X16 square pixal thumbnails of album covers; the graphic adjustment which I’m still working on.

 

 

Nobody rhymes like me. I don’t even rhyme like me. I don’t repeat what anyone, especially myself, has done. DJ Qbert is constantly twittering good words of advice like ‘just as a rolling stone gathers no moss, a focused artist deflects both positive and negative criticism.’ All I cared about was talent, vision, point of view, originality, directness, expression, and innovation. One day someone will notice I worked with total unknowns that were the most famous people in the world.

Point being, I have to contradict myself because L.A.-based Open Mike Eagle, part of Project Blowed at the Bay, whom I’m gonna work with, has a song on his “Another Roadside Attraction” EP, called “The Financial Crisis Song,” a tight edu-tainment rhyme about the bailout debacle. His understanding of the information in a really tricky lyric is in some ways what I tried to do with “Oil,” “Radiation,” and “Owl Pellets,” which in a way, may not be different than the KRS-One songs inspiring us.

 

 

When it comes to fashionistas, the underground is a losing proposition. We grew up wanting to be the first to hear Nirvana. When they blew up, people weren’t as attached to them, even though that didn’t take anything away from their records. Then, there’s the Dead Kennedys. Even if their music wasn’t what it was, the name of the band alone makes sure you’d never get divorced from underground status. You could root for the underdog as a kid and get attached to that, but then you believe only underdogs are valuable and shoot yourself in the foot in life. However, I have no interest in fashion, be it underground on not.

 

 

If fashion is about surfaces, of course, I have no interest. It’s not that I’m in opposition to fashion, it doesn’t (come into my radar).

 

 

Regular people are smart and don’t like to be spoken down to. The fast food proletariat is gonna fall apart. Have you seen the new study saying Monsanto corn, which is all corn AND most food, causes organ damage? It’s genetically engineered to do well with a certain herbacide. Point being, strategy and creativity have very small overlap so I don’t have a choice about what I do.

 

 

Both. (laughter) Also, I don’t only have to use my own ideas anymore. I can collect things that appear to be the truth and throw them in the mix.

 

 

When I said that I was convinced there was an order to not send planes to intercept the terrorist planes in illegal airspace. My understanding was it’d require a presidential order not to send planes to knock those planes out of the sky. Did Bush knock them down? I don’t know.   

 

 

It’s just us – not to take anything away from the fabulous collaborations. It’s a mind melt and we’ve hired awesome musicians. Gondry wanted to call it Beer Machine, but I just wanted Beer. We should do shows with Can. (laughter) “Leafbird” is a new kiddie song. There’s a few unfinished.

 

 

Nas did an unauthorized biography of Rakim that was brilliant and blew a lot of heads back. I thought, “Wouldn’t it be crazy to do one with Weird Al. So I researched him and put it together in similar format to a beat that could be a cousin to the Nas song and I did that years ago. I also reached out to him when his parents died inexplicably (in a car accident). Incredibly sad. Then I sent him the song. He said, “That’s awesome.” But it needs updating because I did it after Al’s Poodle Hat and before White & Nerdy. It exists on my Buck Moon Kaboom. I also did an interview with him for Village Voice. I wrote an unauthorized KRS-One bio. It was actually Gondry’s first assignment for me to translate into rhyme – what I call Rhyme Slating. I’m working one for Joe Strummer and Obama as well.

 

 

But it ends positively with marriage. It’s about my parents divorce and the triumph over that. We take everything for granted. We make art ‘cause life hurts.

 

 

But who’d sign with me when I won’t sign with anybody. (laughter) Grand Royal Records were great taste makers… I’d love to write for people like King-Goffin did in the ‘60s. We’re making kid’s books and elaborate lyric books for Househusband Books & Media. The label will involve me, but not always as performer. Also, I have dreams of overseeing other people’s projects. Maybe tweaking rap demos with some outside direction to bring it up a few notches.

 

 

FORWARD: I got to know rascal-y white rap suburbanite, Paul Barman, pretty well over the years. I’ve taken his wife and kid, Felix (one-year old in 2005), out for dinner near their Manhattan apartment. And we’ve attended a couple shows together. I’ve even unintentionally angered his mom with some asinine, ridiculous remarks made while helping Barman move his junk to the Big Apple from Ridgewood, New Jersey. I don’t know who’s more of a character, him or me, but I do know he at least has great talent and some renown.

Skinny, bespectacled, curly-haired post-teen MC Paul Barman received critical recognition when respected producer-rap impresario Prince Paul (formerly of Stetsasonic, then Gravediggaz) lent a hand to 2000’s spastically fun-tastic 6-song EP, It’s Very Stimulating. An intellectually idiosyncratic Jewish geek-hop gourmandizer, Brown University grad Barman grew up in Ridgewood, New Jersey, and spent weekends in Manhattan, splitting time between divorced parents. Perhaps the insecurities and paranoia caused by their separation informed Barman’s muse, providing a non-prescribed psychological remedy.

On Halloween at midtown basement club, Makor, Barman’s dressed as a loony professor in white lab coat, offering jocular highlights from the newly waxed Paullelujah while bunny-outfitted DJ Anna spins discs, drops beats, and scatters samples to his right. He’s got the lurching crowd in the palm of his hand rhyming about an all-purpose “Yamaichi Bra,” drawing a portrait of a blonde audience member during one self-deprecating rap, and asking the huddled gathering to shout out names for improvised one-liners. The lunacy hits fever pitch when he puts on a wolf mask and howls about societal ills like a wounded coyote.

As for the suggestive innuendoes and variegated insinuations of the multifarious long-play debut, Paullelujah, this contented varment sprawls quipped parodies across crusty backtracks resembling randomly patched quilts perfectly suited for The Onion canon (whom we visit post-interview, leaving with Our Stupid Century calendars and priceless Drugs Win Drug War t-shirts). A tantalizingly twisted newspaper insert, Jew Dork Rimes, is enclosed within the cardboard-encased disc.

The madness ensues when a joyous female choir helps Barman celebrate “the most amazing career in newspaper history” on the way-over-the-top crazed alchemy of the Gospel-spiked title cut, climaxing in delirious hymnal falsettos Weird Al wouldn’t dare attempt. Next, the “Rock Lobster”-inspired cum-fest “Cock Mobster” dissects delicious Hollywood trim in a gynecological “porn utopia of cornucopia,” becoming the most hilarious celebrity rip since Rocky Horror alum Tim Curry’s ’79 semi-hit “I Do The Rock.” As strangely empathetic as Eminem’s heartfelt stalker masterpiece, “Stan,” the affective “Old Paul” slips into peachy keen neo-Classical “Love Is Blue” Spanish guitar mode while sensitive flute and rainy day ‘60s orchestration embellish Barman’s plaintive memories.

The Prince Paul-produced paradoxical palindrome profundity of “Bleeding Brain Grow” segues into the cheerleader-chanted “get laid” call and response of the clitoral conundrum “NOW” while the MF Doom-twiddled Scrabble schism “Anarchist Bookstore Part 1” slips comfortably into neo-Jazz elegance overlaid by George Duke-like organ motifs. Above a haunting “Gone With The Wind” choir, Barman’s over-intellectualized dialect entices the interlude-ish “Excuse Me.” Somehow even the indelicately sophomoric “Burpin’ & Fartin’,” with its “Apache” groove and uppity orchestral Holi-daze, fits in next to the “darn tootin’” acoustic-minded Woody Guthrie-inspired Country-folk space warp, “Talking Time Travel.”

Opinionated, musically finicky, and reluctantly forthright concerning borrowed samples and soundbites, Barman also sketches cartoons in his free time. He’s even drawn two of Spin’s funniest back page segments.

AW: What’s the secret formula for your success so far?

MC PAUL BARMAN: I try to search for truth and express it like wonderful artists I know, though sometimes I feel like nothing’s happening.

Are you as bad in bed as you let on prior to “Cock Mobster”?

No. I’ve learned tricks in a secret… Did you ever hear of the Yoga Ranch? They have this underground layer near Hawaii in a giant air bubble emanating from an underwater volcano where the sexy swami teaches you the things I know.

How has emcee-producer MF Doom enhanced your style?

Dude, can we give it up for him just a moment. Nobody rhymes like MF Doom. He taught me certain words aren’t important. I have this sentential style where I leave words like I’m, this, or the in. But if you rhyme fast each word has to count. Little words become extraneous since they’re taking up space they don’t deserve. That’s one jewel he gave me. But the beautiful part about working with him is I was a huge fan. When his Operation Doomsday came out, I remember thinking, ‘they don’t make ‘em like this anymore.’ It was the genuine article like De La Soul’s Three Feet High And Rising. Did you know De La Soul didn’t like its hippie-ish cover ‘cause love and peace weren’t cool? They wanted themselves stuck in an elevator three feet below the floor. I could totally picture that ill cover. You should always let an artist do the cover they want. That’s why I’m thinking of recording my next album with a reel-to-reel and a microphone under a tree. I tried to make Paullelujah as multi-dimensional and awesome as possible, using my strengths to cover my weaknesses. If that’s not authentic enough, I’ll do the Folksway record. (laughter)

You’ve already touched upon old folk by turning Woody Guthrie’s “Talking Fishing Blues” into your own “Talking Time Travel.”

I have a friend in a rockabilly band named Nicky Tabasco, who sang backup in “Old Paul” and told me about the Talking Blues format. I already had the anthology of the first volume of Woody’s Ash recordings. It was a raw style with a new cadence for me. So I told producer MikeTheMusicGuy in San Francisco I’d love to do something with a guitarist. We walked 15 feet to his kitchen where Etienne (de Rocher) was cleaning up. Mike asked if he could play guitar with me tomorrow. The next day, I walked around with Woody on headphones and stressed about an ideal storyline.

What’s the genesis behind “Burpin’ & Fartin’”?

That song title was in my head for awhile. I forgot about it until the song was ready. It’s nice when you’re like a word processor. One day you’re like, “that’s a fun idea,” then forget about it. Three days later you have the rhyme version of what the funny idea would be. That goes into the song structure. (Barman breaks into a quick-drawn freestyle rap denigrating news crews) Anchormen are more despicable than confusing politicians and much worse than crack dealers. Every time they open their mouths to say something, they have giant invisible cocks shoved down their throats. They deserve to be prosecuted by the mystic beings that don’t exist to the fullest extent of humanity.

You’ve heard Don Henley’s media diatribe, “Dirty Laundry,” about the bubble-headed bleach blonde. I’d like to see t.v. news reporters die in a fiery plane crash so I could report the damage.

I saw this documentary about pro-automobile lobbyists who end up with powerful regulatory government positions. Everything’s at such a low level with politics. I don’t know how to climb out of the abyss.

My favorite cartoon shows are The Simpsons, Family Guy and King Of The Hill.

I like Dexter’s Laboratory, Powerpuff Girls, and Spongebob. Tom Kinney, an early cast member of Mr. Show, is a cool funnyman who does the voice of Spongebob and was in Bobcat Goldwaith’s Shakes The Clown. He’s an inspiration who struggled in the trenches as a fuckin’ despised comedian and did good work along the way. That influence has a penthouse now.