By MAGGIE WICKS
Thursday 10am
Beat Merchants, Victoria St East
Two headphoned young men are bent over turntables, nodding their heads below a sign that reads, "Dear Customers, Please Treat Records with Care ... PLEASE, NO SCRATCHING." There is vinyl wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling, on shelves, in bargain bins and stacked in plastic crates on the floor.
New York hip-hop thumps from speakers at the front and rear of the small, airy shop. Genres divide the store into sections: hip-hop, r&b, funk, drum'n'bass, reggae. Above the shelves the walls are covered in posters of American hip-hop luminaries: Dr Dre, 2Pac, Method Man.
But the wall behind the counter is reserved for Aotearoa hip-hop only - Deceptikonz and Dawn Raid T-shirts, posters advertising new releases from Soane and Che Fu, the New Zealand International Turntablists Federation (ITF) DJ championships, this year's Aotearoa Hip Hop Summit.
It's a 20-minute wait for Phil Bell, aka DJ Sir-Vere, one of New Zealand's leading hip-hop authorities. "What do you need?" he asks. Half an hour to talk? "The shop's too busy right now. Come back Monday, we'll discuss it then."
A nd so it begins. Between the record store he manages, the radio show he presents, DJ-ing gigs and organising events, the 34-year-old Bell is almost impossible to pin down. He is always busy, writing contracts, ordering music, arranging international acts or picking up his kids Ethan and Reon from school.
Janine Russell, a former label and promotions manager for Universal NZ, which releases his Major Flavours compilations, says Bell is one of the busiest men in the industry.
"Anything in hip-hop, you're guaranteed Phil's behind it. Hip-hop acts never came to New Zealand so Phil has personally paid huge names to come down. His passion for hip-hop is second-to-none. Plus, he's one of the most, if not the most, talented hip-hop DJs in the country."
Bell's DJ-ing career began one night when his dad, a mobile DJ, was caught short.
"We were doing this school social at Mt Albert Grammar. Dad needed to go to the bathroom so he asked me to step up. It was kind of crazy."
Since then, Bell has been a huge influence in New Zealand hip-hop. He has hosted shows on bFm, MaxTV and MTV, brought the ITF DJ championships to New Zealand, co-ordinated the annual Aotearoa Hip-Hop Summit, and in July last year released Major Flavours, a compilation which mixed local and international hip-hop and sold 14,000 copies. It won him the 2001 bNet award for the Most Outstanding Contribution to Local Music.
The follow-up, Major Flavours 2, was released in March this year alongside the bonus disk Major Aotearoa Flavours, and has already achieved platinum status.
Monday, noon, Beat Merchants
There are eight people in the store, talking and flicking through records. It looks quieter but there's no sign of Bell. He's looking after his kids today. "Come back another time."
Thursday, 8.30pm, bFM studio, Auckland University
Peter Wadams, aka P-Money, host of bFm's True School Hip-Hop show, is Bell's best-known protege. Wadam's debut album, Big Things, was awarded Best Hip-Hop Release at last month's bNets and he is ranked the world's third-best turntablist. He doesn't mind the interruption to his show and passes the turntables over to one of a group of boys hanging out in the studio.
"I first heard of DJ Sir-Vere through the True School Hip-Hop show. He was the host and I used to listen to the show religiously every week in my bedroom." The two eventually met through the ITF Championships in 1997.
"Phil ran the first ITFs and I entered that. I did quite well and asked if I could come and take part on the show. He would host the show and I'd play records when he would let me. And we developed a friendship through each ITF and the show, as his business grew and my skills at the turntable grew.
"Phil's an ambitious man. He always has projects in mind. He's ambitious in a business sense but he's also quite humble and family-orientated as well. All the business stuff he does is basically to lay a foundation for his family.
"He can be grumpy and stand-offish and quite rude at times, but I think that's due to being focused on other things. When he's got something in mind he doesn't want to be bothered with other shit."
Bell's latest project is the third annual Aotearoa Hip-Hop Summit. The summit brings together the four elements of the culture - breaking, DJing, MCing and graffiti art. The summit was started in 2000 by Alistair Toto (DJ Ali) who, with Bell, is co-director of NZ Hip-Hop Ltd, a production and promotion company.
"I held the first summit in Christchurch and it ran without the ITFs," says Ali. "Then Phil suggested we combine the summit and the ITFs, and we also brought in Disrupt the System [a graffiti jam conceptualised by Auckland artist Elliot ODonnell].
"I think that's why our events are so strong, because we established them individually first. But we were friends anyway so we pulled together. Phil's a passionate person. It translates through everything he's involved with, especially his family, his friends and his music."
Tuesday, 8.10pm, outside Beat Merchants
Bell is spending his evenings in the backroom of the shop, sorting out international acts for the summit. We have arranged to talk in between calls from the United States. He doesn't show.
Thursday 4pm, Beat Merchants
The usual crowd is milling around the shop - young men in fresh street gear and school bags. Brother D and YDNA, founders of the successful South Auckland music label Dawn Raid Entertainment, are leaning over the counter. Bell seems busy but there is no choice but to accost him. "See you later Sir-Vere," Brother D calls mockingly.
We head into a small backroom with two-way glass to keep an eye on the shop. One wall is covered in vinyl, the other in family photographs. Bell plonks himself in front of an old computer. He has other stuff to do and he sits on his hands to keep from fidgeting. Every 10 minutes he hits the keyboard, checking if any emails have come through.
"Yeah, I've been pretty busy. But you've caught me at a really bad time. I'm so busy it's just ridiculous. Maybe after the summit is over it'll pan out a bit."
Despite the success of last year's summit, Bell says sponsors are pulling out and, as a result, this year's may be the last.
The cost of running it is about $250,000. Hiring the Town Hall for one night is $50,000 alone, and ticket sales only bring in about $30,000.
"You would think there's a lot of money in it, eh? Don't forget the ticket price is really low, and for [American DJs] Tajai, Vin Roc and Apolla it's $25,000, just to get them here, right? So where does that money come from?
"So I doubt I'll do it next year. There's no money in it at all and I can't work a whole year for nothing. My wife, she hits the roof every year. I can't say that for three nights a week I have to be in the shop working all night, and then come home with nothing to show for it.
"Not until commercial sponsors turn the corner and realise that it is profitable in the long run to get involved in these events will the summit be viable. But they don't. They don't get it. I've got two kids man. I can't do this shit forever."
The two boys he has with wife Heidi are central to his life. Every friend and colleague has talked about Bell's love of hip-hop, but his real motivation is his family.
"When my kids came along four years ago my angle on everything changed. Now I don't do anything that doesn't benefit my family. I don't necessarily do it for the love of hip-hop. That's not true. I think that people probably don't realise that because I'm a real strong family man everything else comes second to them.
"If you asked me why I like hip-hop, I couldn't tell you because it's an intangible. I like that fact. I just love the music and I love the culture." Although Bell predicts the summit to be near its end, he says hip-hop in New Zealand is strong at present.
"If you look at those Dawn Raid guys, they're like me. They're doing shit all the time. They're behind everything. And why? Because, what are you gonna do? Sit around and do nothing?
"Being busy is a good thing. It makes people aspire to do things. Like [Che Fu's] album has been really successful, my album's done well, [P-Money's] done well. People are like, 'Uh, let's get busy, let's do stuff like they do.'
"It's just on the business side there's no one else doing anything. Every hip-hop tour that's been run this year that was international has been me and Ali. No one else is putting their hand up."
Tuesday after the summit, Beat Merchants
Bell is once again flat-out in the back room of the shop. Having survived last week's summit, the decision has been made to go ahead with next year's. Planning begins at 3pm.
"I can't f****** believe it. The road to making it happen is really hard but Ali's real keen and were gonna do it. The format's gonna have to change, but yeah, its gonna happen."
The international acts and the ITFs from this year's summit sold 4500 tickets over two nights, and 12,000 people made it to Aotea Square to check out Disrupt the System.
"We didn't make a profit but the summit was really, really good. The support we got from the local crews was outstanding. We got heaps more people through the square, which is awesome. And operationally it went twice as well as last year. I actually think as an event it was better this year 'cause we had a better idea of what we were doing.
"The event itself is not that difficult to run, not with the crew we've got now. So we're gonna do next year and, as long as the road to the day is not as hard, it'll be okay."
Bell's direction for the future is onwards and upwards. Aside from his continued commitment, he plans to use NZ Hip-Hop Ltd to bring stronger acts to New Zealand.
"In the next six months you'll see me move. I'll become really specific as to who I promote as far as international gigs. I really want to move to the next level and become a much bigger fish because I think there's a really big gap there and someone needs to step up.
"Then, 20 years down the track, I'm gonna sell all my records and give the money to my kids.
"I know how much it's worth - tens of thousands of dollars. I reckon by the time I get to 55 or 60 I won't really need my records any more.
"So I'll keep a select few and sell the rest because by then they would have served their purpose for me, set me up for life. Yup, records are just records."
Beats working
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