My Voice: A Memoir (21 page)

As much as I wanted to criticize him and hate on him, the truth was he did a great job. I hated the negative feelings I was having—jealousy,
disappointment, embarrassment—and I knew I needed to get them out. So all I could do was release them in the most positive way possible. The second his interview was over, I sent Ed a text:
If somebody had to steal my dream interview, I’m glad it was you. You did an amazing job!

Ed sent me back a gracious text, telling me I couldn’t know how much that meant to him. And as quick as that, I felt better. The negative feelings were gone, and I learned something that day: to be aware of my own negative energy and the power of finding a way to release it in a positive way. The truth is that I could have held on to that jealousy for a long time. Instead I felt empowered. Oprah would be proud.

It was a big day for me, and it was a big day for our country. Knowing that Niko was old enough to witness history and that he, too, could be president one day made me so proud. I took him into the voting booth with me, and I let him cast my ballot with his little five-year-old finger.

Young Jeezy said it on the trap song, and now we could all say it, too. “My president is
black.”

THREE-CARD MONTE

T
he Hot 97 where I grew up was different from the place where I found myself working in the years between 2009 and 2014. Before I ever really thought of going anywhere else, there were certain moments of awareness that took place and made me start to think about life beyond the only radio home I’d ever known.

Some of these had nothing to do with Hot and everything to do with me—and my own fears that I couldn’t make it anywhere else. It was true that my identity just seemed synonymous with the station and that my relationships were intertwined. Without Hot 97, who was I? Was it enough just to be me, Angie Martinez? Did I have enough equity in my own personal brand to survive outside of this mega platform that I had helped build? I knew my relationship with my audience was real, but how would I connect to them if I were to leave? Would it matter to them, or would it be on to the next? I wondered the same thing about people in the industry even though I knew my relationships were strong.
In fact, there were plenty of times over the years that I’d feel humbled when people extended themselves and showed real love outside of my day job.

One of the most over-the-top gestures happened one year on my birthday and I got a call from a label rep saying, “Lil Wayne has something he wants to send you for your birthday and wants to know if I can pass along your number to him.”

It was not strange that an artist would send me flowers or a fruit basket or something for my birthday. I didn’t know Wayne. He’d been on my show once, maybe twice, and he’d never really been super talkative. So the fact that he would even call me for my birthday was so weird to me. I gave the rep my number but was still puzzled—
Okay, Wayne
.

That phone rang right after that. “Hey, it’s Weezy. I heard on the radio that it was your birthday, and I just want to wish you a happy birthday.”

“Oh, thanks so much,” I said.

“I have something I want to send you,” Wayne said. “Can I have my man get your address so I can get it to you?”

“You really didn’t have to. Thank you. Sure, have him call me.”

In five minutes I got a call from some guy that worked for Wayne, saying, “I need your address. I’m coming for Wayne. I’m going to jump on a flight from Miami now.”

“Wait a minute. You’re flying here to bring it to me?”

Yeah, that’s what the man said.

This guy is coming from Miami to give me a present?! Okay, maybe he’s coming here anyway . . . Who knows!?
(Clearly this is not a bottle of champagne or an Edible Arrangement.)

The guy shows up in front of my building at ten p.m. that night. Out of a taxi comes a Wayne look-alike. I mean the guy looks just like Lil Wayne, but it’s not him. It’s clearly somebody from his crew.

“Hello, Ms. Angie,” he says. “Here you go.” He gives me this little box.

As I start to open the gift, I ask, “Did you just get in from the airport?”

“Yeah. I came to bring this to you.”

“You’re not staying in town?”

“No. The taxi is going to take me right back to the airport.”

“Are you kidding me? Is Wayne crazy?”

“Kinda,” he said. ‘“Hold on. I’ve gotta call him. I was supposed to let him know once you have it.”

As he’s calling Wayne, I’m opening the box, and it’s a diamond tennis bracelet! An outrageous, brilliant, flawless diamond tennis bracelet. I’m just staring at it.
Why would he do this? What is this?! Is this real? Is this, like, rhinestones? This can’t be diamonds! This has got to be a forty-thousand-dollar bracelet! Is he crazy? No fucking way is this for me. I don’t even know this man. What is happening?!

“Yeah, I’m here with her right now,” Wayne’s boy says into the phone. “She got it.” He then looks at me and asks, “Do you like it?”

“Uh, yeah!”

He tells Wayne, “Yeah, she likes it,” and then hands me the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Miss Angie.”  In his laid-back New Orleans accent.

“Wayne, why would you do that? Are you crazy?”

“Well, you know, I heard it was your birthday, and I started thinking about that time I came to your show and I had a really bad migraine that day and you told me that you took Imitrex when yours got really bad. And I was just watching you. You was in your bag for five, ten minutes, like emptying out your whole bag, trying to find me one. And you gave it to me, and it was the first time I had any relief from my migraine. I’ve been taking them ever since, and it showed me that you was just a nice person, and I wanted to say thank you and wish you a happy birthday.”

Wow
. Normally, I don’t accept gifts like that. But it was so kind and
so sweet that I just wanted to keep it. I almost felt like he would be offended if I didn’t.

“Thank you so much, man,” I said. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say nothing.”

“Well, you have my number now, so keep in touch.”

“All right, you have mine, too. Enjoy. Have a happy birthday.”

And I haven’t heard from him since. Isn’t that amazing? He never wanted anything. He never asked me for anything. After we hung up I debated whether I should keep the bracelet or not because it was so expensive and I felt weird about it. But fate made the decision for me. A short time later I was on a flight to Miami and noticed the clasp was a little loose. I made a mental note to have it tightened when I got back to New York. Unfortunately, somewhere in transit, it must have fallen off my wrist. The universe took it from me before I could return it.

Though I lost the bracelet, I still have the memory of him doing that and the realization of how thoughtful and dope he is. Also, his very generous gesture reminded me that all the professional relationships I had built would endure no matter what changes were to come. And that was no small thing.

•   •   •

I
’m always asked what my favorite interview was and I can never answer that. I’ve had bad interviews. Maybe the artist wasn’t into it. Maybe I didn’t ask the right questions. My goals as an interviewer are for me to learn something new about that person and to learn something in general; I want to be entertained. I want to have a good vibe. If I get that, I know my audience will, too. The main thing is that I want to feel something, and so I always shoot for that.

I love to be surprised. When Dave Chappelle came on my show, we laughed a lot, but more than the laughter, I was enthralled by how
interesting and smart he is. It was such a pleasure to talk to him that once the interview was over and we went off the air, we sat in the studio for another hour or two and hung out, talking some more.

Derek Jeter was another guest who would surprise me. I’m a huge Yankees fan and a huge Derek Jeter fan, and he just represented all that could be good about an athlete. Even now to this day, for me, with a son who likes sports, there’s no role model better than Derek Jeter, and he was just the king of the Yankees in his heyday when he used to come to the show—as a fan of the station and as a fan of hip-hop.

He would call in after winning the World Series or come in and do a full interview. He didn’t have to do that. He didn’t have to do anything; he’s Derek Jeter. He really just came because he knew what it would mean to us and to our listeners, and it was surprising and humbling.

Sometimes I like surprising my guests. One of my favorite interviews was the second time that I had A$AP Rocky on the show. He’s great and he’s young and all swaggy, and during our first interview I found out that his real name is Rakim—named by his mother after Rakim the rapper, one of my favorites of all time.

“That is so dope,” I said. “Have you ever met him—your namesake?”

“No,” he said, but talked about how much he’d love to one day.

So the next time I had A$AP Rocky on the show, I’m in the middle of the interview when I mention, “Oh, remember last time when you said you always wanted to meet Rakim?”

And A$AP kind of shrugs, being cool, a typical rapper, all laid-back attitude, and at just that moment—as planned—the original Rakim walks into the room, and A$AP Rocky transforms into a little kid seeing the real Santa Claus.
What?!!
He came over and gave me a big hug; he couldn’t even help himself.

The two looked like they were having a long-lost reunion and A$AP asked Rakim, “Can you call my mom?” It was the cutest. A$AP was
giddy. The surprise brought out the authentic, sweet side of him. Rakim was so gracious. It was a great, great moment.

For me it was an emotional high because A$AP Rocky is the epitome of the new-generation rapper right now. Rakim is arguably one of the greatest rappers of all time and represents earlier hip-hop, when I was coming of age. So being able to create a moment that was so multigenerational but so hip-hop helped me to define my space in the culture.

The ability to do that and make it happen was just a perfect moment.

I have had other interviews where I felt that I could create a safe space, a little like therapy for artists who needed it right then. Busta Rhymes was someone who was always animated and always happy who came up to the show when he was physically and emotionally just exhausted. And, man, haven’t we all been there? He was at the peak of his career, but when he came that day and was willing to let loose about the challenges, it was brave and moving. Another time I had DMX on where he was in full tears—exhausted and battling with his demons—and he wanted to talk more, but at that moment I wanted to protect him and had to cut the mic off a couple of times.

I think it became known over the years that I tried to do right by people, and with that, I earned their trust. And in those instances when it became something of a therapy session, as it did sometimes between Mary J. Blige and me, our friendship was there on the air as much as off of it.

One of the times that stands out was when she signed on to do a Burger King commercial about crispy fried chicken and she got so much flak about it. The reaction really was over-the-top about her singing about chicken. In her mind, she was just trying to make an iconic commercial—like the “Two all-beef patties” McDonald’s campaign—but the execution of the spot wasn’t what she had hoped. As much as that saddened her, nothing disturbed her more than how the public responded. I mean, the
Internet went bananas, calling her names for portraying a racist stereotype and for being a sellout. For somebody as beloved as Mary, it’s shocking to see how one questionable move could make people flip on you. I hate that about our culture.

Mary really didn’t react in public initially, and the first time she talked about it was on my show—how hurtful it had been not just to see the criticism but to think that fans wouldn’t know her intent, that they wouldn’t trust her integrity.

Probably the hardest interview I’ve ever done—and one I feel proudest of—was with Chris Brown in 2009. At that point I was seasoned and ready; I knew who I was. It was such a sensitive moment and it had not been broached on radio. It was raw—the first lengthy interview he had done after the horrible incident with Rihanna, where the whole world saw what he did to her: her bruised, bloody face. Yes, he had gone on Larry King and that was awful for him. That was all the public had heard from him, and people were angry—rightfully so—but my goal was to be fair and hopefully have him confront the truth of it.

I had known Chris from the time he was fifteen years old. So we had a relationship that made me feel I could be direct and he could handle it. When he arrived with his whole team trying to be super hands-on, I just wasn’t having it. I took Chris out of the room before we started.

“Listen, there are going to be points where I’m gonna go hard on you because I have to. I have to be honest in that,” I said. “But also, I’m gonna give you a chance to be heard. And I care about you, so my intention is not to hurt you. But we have to be honest and I have to tell you how I really feel.”

“No, I totally get it,” he said.

In wanting to be fair, I thought about how you’d treat a member of your family who’d done something awful. Even in your disappointment,
you don’t leave them for dead and you don’t disown them. You want to know what happened and you want to know why. I wanted to talk about it so that Chris could own it—to give him the space to do that. At the same time, I didn’t want my audience to think that what happened was okay. I didn’t want any young girl listening to think that this is okay. Not okay.

As horrified as I was and as concerned as I was about Rihanna, I also was concerned for Chris. When I asked him if he was okay, he reacted like somebody who had never been asked that question before. For a moment I thought to myself, if one day my son made a horrible mistake I would hope that someone would give him the opportunity to make it right.

Chris was this young kid who had done a profoundly wrong thing and he was going to pay, probably for the rest of his life. If I felt like he was getting away scot-free, I may have felt differently. But the repercussions of his actions were inevitable, and I chose to hope that through those consequences he’d learn something that he could later teach.

ANGIE:
I definitely want to talk about how you can redeem yourself. Do you have a plan?

CHRIS BROWN:
I just feel like whatever God has in store for me. One mistake, I can change. I can turn a bad into a positive. And take the situation that was in my life and kind of change it and make it into a positive, making people aware of situations.

ANGIE:
I want to be careful. [Rihanna] clearly was the victim in this. But I’ve got to imagine that this has been awful for you.

CHRIS BROWN:
Yeah.

ANGIE:
I see you on Larry King and I am torn. Like I don’t want to let you off the hook. Because it’s not poor Chris, right? But just as
someone who knows you, this has to be one of the most awful experiences of your life.

CHRIS BROWN:
People don’t realize I am human. I hurt. I cry. I feel pain, I feel embarrassment, I feel ashamed. . . .

ANGIE:
You were such a role model for the kids. And then everybody was just, like, in shock.