Rapper Without a Curse
Part-time musician Tony Lipari swears off profanity in his lyrics
Photo:Jessica Crossfield
I’ve heard the Whitesnake song “Here I Go Again” hundreds of times before, but on this Sunday afternoon it means so much more to me.
“Hear I go again on my own,
Going down the only road I’ve ever known.
Like a drifter, I was born to walk alone…”
I feel like a hair metal god listening to my personal anthem, while my long, dark hair finds its way out of the loose hair tie and starts blowin’ in the wind, reminiscent of one of my favorite Dylan songs. The only thing missing now is music video vixen Tawny Kitaen straddling the hood of my blue 2001 Saturn SL2.
The song’s chorus comes on again as I make the second right on Hemlock Road, which is ironically a road I’ve never known. As I contemplate the irony, I somehow just miss the house my eyes had been peeled for since making that last right. Using the neighbor’s driveway, I make a broken and admittedly sloppy U-turn, pulling up right behind the all-too-familiar maroon-colored 2004 Mustang.
I ring the doorbell, the door opens and I’m greeted by the Rikshaw, the local rap artist making a name for himself in Ocala. He may be known professionally as the Rikshaw, but I’ll always know him as Tony Lipari, my older brother by four years.
Tony’s story is that of a mild-mannered insurance salesman by day turned local rapper by night. Unlike the vast majority of recording rappers out there, the Rikshaw keeps his music clean, free of such popular themes as gang violence, pro- miscuous sex and explicit language. Instead, Rikshaw opts for personal messages in his raps and how he got to where he is today; the importance of a strong relationship with God, his family and the love of his hometown, the Bronx.
“I wouldn’t change my style to the point where things weren’t real anymore,” Rik- shaw says. “Not every song I do is going to be about a personal experience. Some songs, for example, will be the feel good club songs, but I won’t rap about gangs and change my message with cursing and derogatory comments about women.”
The clean, positive messages in his music can be considered a throwback of sorts to when he was first introduced to rap music in elementary school. Our cousin Ann Marie played a handful of songs from a holiday compilation album, which happened to feature Run DMC’s “Christmas in Hollis.” It was the first rap song he heard. He became fascinated by the different style because it contrasted so much with our parents’ musical collections of Billy Joel, the Beach Boys, the Four Tops and the Supremes.
But it was Run DMC who ignited the flame under the Rikshaw.
Music had a hold of him throughout elementary and middle school, and the thought of performing in a band really sparked his interest. He finally got what he wanted. He still remembers his first live performance? the opening act at Forest High School’s homecoming show, Cat’s Capers, during his senior year. Along with a band of friends, he performed the Collective Soul song “Shine.” That night, he realized that there was nothing like performing in front of a live audience.
As an aspiring rap artist, he felt he needed to create a persona. The key to a persona, of course, is the name. Your name is your signature? it’s what people remember. Marshall Mathers is Eminem, Chris Bridges is Ludacris and Tony Lipari is the Rikshaw.
“I wanted a rap name that was going to mean something to me,” Rikshaw says. “I find oriental culture very honorable and it ties in with taking the high road with how I rap. A rickshaw provides the imagery of somebody carrying weight on their back. No matter what obstacles come up in life, you have to keep moving forward,” he says. “I just changed the spelling for creative reasons.”
His first album, Poetry of the Street, took nine months to perfect. It was finally released at the beginning of June 2005. Since then, advertisements have been key, ranging from a television interview on the public access show “The Connect Zone” to a meet and greet session at the Hollywood 16 Regal Cinemas movie theater in Ocala.
Rikshaw “keeps the rhymes comin” working on songs that have that catchy hook to sing along to, while keeping it listener-friendly. He realizes that the artists who use profanity and questionable themes get significant airplay, but following this model was never an option. The Rikshaw didn’t want to be fake. He wanted to represent his music as he represents himself? professionally and accurately. The Rikshaw hopes other people see his music as an alternative from the often negative stereotypes that bombard most rap music.
The landscape of rap music has been perceived in a negative light for years on account of these adult themes. That doesn’t sit well with Rikshaw because he loves the different styles available in the rap music genre. He wants to see rap music get the recognition it deserves, for the style and poetry exhibited. Hopefully, he says, somebody will see his music as something different instead of more of the same.
“I want to take this thing as far as it can go,” Rikshaw says. “I want to create music for a living so my family and I can live comfortably.
“It’s like my message in ‘Poetry of the Street,’” says Rikshaw. “Sometimes, the things that people want to do may seem really hard and impossible. But if you have a dream, you have to fight for it and make it happen.”