Words by Aimee Farell
Photos by Marius W Hansen
Plan B is quite possibly the best thing to come out of suburban Essex since the Prodigy. Hailed by the music press as the UK’s answer to Slim Shady, at just 22, slick wordsmith Ben Drew’s blend of acoustic riffs and hip-hop heaviness is already making its musical mark. I first fell for young Ben when I saw his amazing Daniel Levi-directed video for the single “No Good”, which has been getting a lot of love on MTV-2 and VH-2.
Plan B’s debut single “Kidz” – a day in the ominous life of a 14-year-old Asbo-style teenager – was written in part as a response to the murder of Damilola Taylor. The song had radio listeners outraged and awe-struck in equal measure when it was first aired on BBC 1Xtra. The single also led to Plan B’s signing with 679 Recordings, home of the Streets and the Futureheads, who are set to release his debut album this spring.
Ben Drew’s heavy-hitting grime and realism is only half the story though, as I found out when I saw his perform at Fabric recently. Accompanied by just his acoustic guitar and wicked drummer, Cassel the Beatmaker, his shows are a fired-up and haphazardly energetic affair that blend rap, R&B, indie, and garage influences. On-stage you get a sense of the full magnitude of Plan B – this one is serious. But mostly I was struck by the sincere and sensitive soul behind the obvious rage against society.
Can you explain the thought behind your name?
People used to call me B, short for Ben and I wanted a name where they could still call me that. It’s Plan B ’cause I was a sweet R&B boy before, then I switched and went the complete other way, doing it underground style. And I just thought: I’m gonna talk about shit that’s real. It was like a switch in my head for Plan B, you know. That’s how it came about.
What’s the title for the album?
Time For Plan B – it’s like an introduction.
What can you tell us about it?
I wrote this first album to learn how to tell a story, so it’s a compilation of a set of short stories. I knew that the rest of the world wouldn’t give a fuck about where I live in Forest Gate – most people in London don’t even know where it is. So I thought the only way I can make things interesting is to become different characters – that way I can talk about drugs and gangsters and stuff without being fake about it.
How longs the album been in your head?
I’d been signed two years and I came up with the idea about eight months before I got signed, which is also when I started doing hip-hop. I used to emcee to jungle before I’d tried writing lyrics, but I’d never written a song.
When were you an MC?
It was on like Internet radio stations – it was never like the proper circuit and we were proper shit as well (laughs).
How did you come to write your first tune then?
I’d done a couple of garage tracks before that but they never got released. Then my mate done a beat on the PS2 that I really liked and, just within one night, I’d written two songs. It was the first thing that I wrote where every lyric was written well.
So how long have you been working on the album?
Just over two years.
And a lot of the material is self-produced?
The reason the album’s taken so long is that I’ve worked with a lot of producers – from MJ Cole and Paul Epworth to Sam Williams, who’s done Supergrass. Every time, one great song will come out and the other ones just don’t sound like me, so I’ve moved on to working with someone else. So about five months ago I was like, ‘Just give me a studio and a sound engineer. I’m gonna bring my drummer and I want a cello player, a bass player, and I’m gonna do this shit myself.’ So that’s what I’ve done.
So you’ve still got a couple more tracks ’til you finish the album, right?
Yeah, they’ve been written for ages, man. I’m just trying to make the music fit my expectations. I already have the words; words are something that come very easy to me. The music is hard work, and I’m putting a lot of time into it.
As a storyteller, where do you draw inspiration?
I get a lot of my inspiration from film and programs. The song “Dead and Buried” is inspired by Channel 4’s “Buried.” I was really touched by it, so I wrote two verses about similar situations. That epitomizes where I get my inspiration, story-wise.
What else inspires you to write?
With “Sick 2 Def,” where I go backwards in the last verse, it was an accident – I just needed something that rhymed with “hearse” and I remembered that Nas had done a track in reverse, so I was blatant about that: (starts rapping) “Lemme me do what Nas did and put this shit in reverse.” ‘Cause I just think everything’s been done before, what hasn’t been done is the way I’m gonna do it.
That’s a bit of a hip-hop tradition, isn’t it?
Well, yeah. [Also,] I’m using pain as art and that’s the exact same thing that filmmakers do, too. My argument is, what’s the difference between music and film? What’s the difference between rap and a poem? Robert Browning used to look at the characters in famous paintings and write poems about what he saw. That’s the same thing I’m doing. I’ll see something in the paper and I’ll write about where my imagination takes it.
Some of your material is pretty raw. People have accused you of writing lyrics just for shock value. How do you respond to that?
If I were just trying to shock people for the sake of it, the music wouldn’t be as good. I put a lot of time and effort into making it art. Ok, I’m using other people’s pain, but the best art comes through pain. Look at Van Gogh – the guy’s life was pain.
Does it reflect your own feelings, too?
Well, I suppose in a way I feel tortured about life, and the things I can’t control like disease and famine. It pisses me off that people are allowed to ignore all the bad shit ’cause their lives are so good. People can read the paper and go, ‘Oh that’s too gruesome,’ so they just turn the page. I want you to sit up and take notice. When my song comes on, people have to listen, because I produce and write it in such a way. That’s the difference: you can’t just turn the page.
And that’s the greatest thing that you can achieve through your music?
Yeah, some people in this world are so ignorant that they won’t give shit a chance. I have to be aggressive in order to get through to them. The little kids on the street that I wrote “Kidz” about ain’t gonna pay attention to the lyrics in “Where is the Love” from Black Eyed Peas. In “Kidz” I’m like, ‘Listen up you fuckin’ cunts,’ and they love it ’cause I’m saying what that they wanna hear. As soon as I get their attention I start getting more sarcastic towards them – “dick so small that you can’t use condoms” – you know, I’m exposing their ignorance.
Who are your fans?
Mmm, a lot of MySpace girls. Then there’s the urban crowd. It’s a mix of different ages. A lot of the grunge crowd has been getting into my stuff too, and I think that’s to do with my acoustic side. That’s what’s good about what I’m doing: anyone can be into it, and that’s the whole point of music for me. You get me? With me it doesn’t matter what age you are, what background – it’s a story, so anyone can listen to a story.
What do you think about UK hip-hop right now?
I’ve got love for artists like Skinnyman and Klashnekoff. But I really ain’t got a lot of love for UK hip-hop, ’cause as soon as you try something different, it’s all hate. Klashnekoff comes out with this wicked album, but then if he wanted to try and do a bit of grime, he knows that these same backpackers are gonna cuss him for it.
Meaning, being successful becomes just selling out?
Yeah. A lot of people that I thought were my mates, they’re all saying I’ve sold out behind my back. When the album’s out they’ll be on the phone back to me, trying to be my friend again.
Do you think it suits your personality to be in between different music scenes?
Well, when I was a kid I was always made to feel like a bit of black sheep. I suppose I’m just a bit of a weird guy in society’s eyes, ’cause I tend to talk about a lot of fucked-up shit, and I’ve always been like that. Some people have the attitude if you can’t beat them join them, but I think if you can’t beat them, accept it, and start your own movement. I’m gonna make my mark, you get me? I’m getting worked up again, sorry!
Have you got hope for the future, though?
Yeah. I’m not that much of a cynic. I’m very optimistic about my art and where it’s gonna take me.
What do your mates think about your success?
I’ve got mates who are DJs, only playing the shit that’s on Choice FM and they haven’t got the balls to play anything else. And then I get calls from them, ‘Yeah a lot of people been saying your name man, you’re blowing up!’ And I’m like, ‘Yeah, you didn’t know that I gave you my record!’ But again it’s just society and the way society makes people wanna fit in.
They’re just scared.
Yeah, but there are also people that don’t really give a shit about all that, and when I see ‘em, they just see me as Ben and call me a cunt, and I call them a cunt back.
You need those people.
Yeah.
