INTERVIEW | 43 YEARS OF WILD STYLE: FAB 5 FREDDY ON LEGACY, ART, AND STAYING ORIGINAL

Wild Style is still as icon­ic as it was 43 years after its debut. I caught up with Fab 5 Fred­die before its 4k world première at the BFI Lon­don Film Festival.

Wild style cap­tured a move­ment just as it was being born. When you think back to the very start, what was the spark? I’ve read that it was you that came up with the idea for the film?

I had the basic ele­ments of the film, and then got with Charlie Ahern, and we col­lab­or­ated. But you know, my motiv­a­tion ini­tially or my main aspir­a­tion was want­ing to make paint­ings and be a visu­al artist. I also had aspir­a­tions to explore oth­er cre­at­ive areas. In think­ing of myself, being a visu­al artist, being black, I thought, man, it’s going to be incred­ibly dif­fi­cult. But I felt like these ele­ments that were going around at the time; the breakin’,the rap­ping, the DJing and the graf­fiti, I felt like we could join them togeth­er to show people the force of the cre­at­ive energy com­ing from inner city youth that were almost always depic­ted in the media in a very neg­at­ive light. The rhet­or­ic was always these are young crim­in­als, these young black and Lat­in people. That really was a prob­lem for me. I felt like if we could show them anoth­er side of who we really are, because we’re not just what they tried to make us out to be, it would be a great look. Also, when I come in as a visu­al artist, people will have a bet­ter under­stand­ing. So those are the kind of ideas in my head about why I wanted to see this as a film. And as you prob­ably know, I met Charlie at a really big art show in 1980 and I pitched it to him, and he said, Let’s go. Let’s make a movie.

So the ini­tial con­ver­sa­tions about the film, like I’ve read in the book Can­’t Stop, Won’t Stop, by Jeff Chang, were in this aban­doned mas­sage par­lor in Times Square? 

There was a mas­sage par­lor in New York City back then. It meant a whore­house, essen­tially. Times Square used to be a red light dis­trict. It was a com­pon­ent of all the Broad­way plays and big movie theat­ers. You know, sex and pros­ti­tu­tion. That was all that went on in Times Square back then. Any­way, this was a former mas­sage par­lor aka whore­house, and it had been turned over to a group of artists that Charlie’s broth­er was a big part of; they were called Col­lab, short for col­lab­or­at­ive pro­jects. So they threw this humong­ous art show with all kinds of emer­ging artists, and it was on the front page of the big kind of cul­tur­al altern­at­ive news­pa­per at the time. I saw that, and it’s like, “Oh, my God, this. I want to be a part of this.” And so a friend who was an art cur­at­or, took me to one of the first events. They had just opened. The big story was on the front page of the paper that week. It was called The Vil­lage Voice. I don’t know if it still exists. Any­way, that’s where I met Charlie. Charlie had made a super low budget under­ground movie about Kung fu.

Yes, it was called The Deadly Art of Survival.

And when I was con­nect­ing with Lee and strategiz­ing on all this stuff, I had seen posters up in his neigh­bor­hood, and I knew it was one of those under­ground films that I wanted to help make. And so at the art show, I saw the poster for this film. I said, yo. And I asked my friend that brought me, Diego Cortez. I said, “Man, who made that film?” He said, “Oh, John’s broth­er, Charlie, he’s right over there”, and that’s how it all began.

 So cool.

 I’m so sur­prised. To be hon­est with you, some of this stuff is still big and means a lot to people. I’m still kind of blown away by that. We wer­en’t plan­ning on it last­ing like 40 plus, almost 50 years. I mean, in terms of the film and stuff like that.

You’re in the film. How was that like for you to step in front of the cam­era and essen­tially perform/act?

First of all, many people think that I’m from the Bronx because most of the people were. I’m from the Bed­ford Stuyves­ant sec­tion of Brook­lyn, and had no inten­tion what­so­ever to be on screen. It was nev­er a part of my plan. Charlie, kind of, you know, con­vinced me, and I tell the story all the time. I was still liv­ing at home in Brook­lyn in Bed Stuy, hanging out on the scene in Man­hat­tan. It’s a very long train ride home in the early hours of the morn­ing, at the club and all that kind of stuff. So I thought, when he was pitch­ing it that the few 100 extra dol­lars a week would allow me to get my first apart­ment on my own, because Jean, Michel Basqui­at, who we were both very close at the time, had recently met and were on a sim­il­ar track to make things hap­pen, I used to be like man. Jean lives in the city. He was crash­ing at people’s places, here and there, but it was agony to take that long train and ride home. So any­way, so that’s that. I’m not from the Bronx. I’m from Brooklyn.

I was def­in­itely act­ing because that was­n’t me. I was not pre­pared to be on cam­era, but I looked at it and said ”Okay, I’m gonna have to if I’m gonna do this. I gotta, oth­er­wise what am I gonna do?”  So there were a couple of char­ac­ters. There was one guy who was a legendary graf­fiti writer who passed away. His name was CASE. When we were research­ing the movie, we’d met him at one of our out­ings for research. He just has such a col­or­ful and inter­est­ing way about him that I liked imme­di­ately. So he was one of the inspir­a­tions for the way my char­ac­ter was just so slick and talks and says cool things. So it was some­thing I had to really work on, to put togeth­er, because I’m actu­ally kind of low key.

I guess I might be con­sidered hip and cool, but I often think of myself as some­what nerdy, because I read. I’m curi­ous about everything. But I was able to just adapt this per­sona, if you will, that, I guess worked some­what, play­ing this char­ac­ter thing.The oth­er inspir­a­tion for the char­ac­ter was anoth­er graf­fiti writer but a lot of my idea about cre­at­ing him as a char­ac­ter for the film was the­or­et­ic­al to me. The con­nec­tion (graf­fiti, Mcing, breakin’, Djing), I knew about, but we had­n’t found an actu­al example of some­body who had been really pro­lif­ic in graf­fiti and also was in hip hop, and that was a guy, sadly, who’s also passed away not long ago, named PHASE 2, and P.H.A.S.E was the link that I was look­ing for. In fact, he stopped doing graf­fiti. He cre­ated fly­ers, adverts, little handouts for one of the early Hip Hop clubs or for the early Hip Hop parties. So my name PHADE was inspired by P.H.A.S.E. And so that’s a long answer to explain.

 Later, when I’d gone, they hos­ted the show on MTV,

I was just about to ask,

Now I’m get­ting asked to do that, and the fact that I was in the movie, that I knew Blon­die and Rap­ture and all this stuff they were pitch­ing for me to do the show on MTV. This is the guy that can do it. I was like, Well, what am I gonna do? Oh, I’m gonna be, like my Wild Style per­sona that I cre­ated, you know.

I was lit­er­ally gonna ask, did that help to pre­pare you to be a glob­al face of Hip Hop?

Of Hip Hop? Yeah, I had to go back. I mean, you know, once again, Wild Style still was a very small under­ground film, and it still is, in a sense, even though it’s the first and con­sidered a clas­sic cult hit, all that type of good stuff. When Yo! MTV Raps came around, it was really like wow. I’m on TV and cable was still new, so not every­body in the coun­try had cable like they do now. So even most of Man­hat­tan still did­n’t have it. Yet they wired up the bor­ough of Man­hat­tan first, and then later, oth­er parts of the city, and so every­body did­n’t know what this cable thing was, which people had heard about it, but cable was still this new fas­cin­at­ing thing. And then this chan­nel that played music videos was also a new thing. They wer­en’t play­ing much of any black music, which you prob­ably know. And so that was prob­lem­at­ic. And then they decided to say, well, let’s give this rap thing a try, and let’s get this guy to host it. The rat­ings went through the roof. So that was how that all went. But with Wild Style, yeah, it was still like an under­ground pro­ject that would go to dif­fer­ent cit­ies. I mean, one of the great things is that I’ve just writ­ten a mem­oir com­ing out in March. It’s called Every­body’s Fly, and that’s where I get deep into these stories. 

There’s this spe­cial story for me, par­tic­u­larly about Eng­land, when Wild Style came out. There was a première party at the ICA, which was on The Mall, which I did­n’t know any­thing about The Mall or whatever. They hired these young black guys to be the DJs for me and I became really cool with these guys. They had a sound sys­tem. They were called Mas­ter­mind Road­show. These guys were early pion­eers on the scene in Lon­don. They were play­ing at out­law parties, and were intro­du­cing people to a lot of this music. They were later some of the guys that became a big part of Max and Dave, which if I’m not mis­taken, became a big part of pir­ate radio, which became big. But any­way, these guys were the DJs that played at the open­ing party, and I’ll nev­er for­get how excited they were, because they could­n’t believe that this was hap­pen­ing. We’re gonna do this party at The Mall. I did­n’t under­stand the sig­ni­fic­ance. Like, this is essen­tially a part of Buck­ing­ham Palace. Or what that meant. We tore that shit up and had a lot of fun. I got on the mic. They had all the right records to play, you know what I mean? I turned them on to a couple of things. And yeah, I learned a lot about the Lon­don scene at that time through those guys, and went to a few of the out­law parties that were going on at that time. I got into that because those guys whose par­ents, I later would under­stand, were part of the Windrush gen­er­a­tion and how sig­ni­fic­ant it was for them to be able to con­nect with Amer­ic­an cul­ture and to be con­nec­ted with Jamaic­an cul­ture to help get their own iden­tity, their own fla­vor togeth­er. So any­way, that was all a big learn­ing thing for me. 

Did you ever ima­gine it would be screened globally?

Everything had com­pletely changed in terms of our ini­tial plans or thoughts because of how the film busi­ness and everything works, everything has been turned upside down, inside out, because of digit­al and all this stuff. But at that time Charlie being plugged into the inde­pend­ent under­ground, I mean, lit­er­ally under­ground film scene, there was a way where you would hope­fully get the film screened, maybe get it put up or  get it fea­tured in some film fest­ivals, to try to reach as broad an audi­ence, but our main inten­tion was Hip Hop. 

It was­n’t even called Hip Hop yet, but that com­munity in New York City, the kids that were part of this cul­ture, that knew what was going on, and the down­town cre­at­ive art scene that we were both con­nec­ted to, that was our tar­get audi­ence. Because for most film­makers mak­ing films like that was the thing they wanted; their friends and the people in the art com­munity, people that were also mak­ing under­ground inde­pend­ent movies for very low to super low budgets. That was the audi­ence. But then Hip Hop as a form on record had­n’t really broken out. Rap­pers Delight had come out. But still, if you heard it and gave two thoughts, most people thought this was some fad type of thing going on. It was a fun record, Sug­ar Hill Gang’s, Rap­pers Delight. But most people did­n’t think much of it, because it was good for­tune. In fact it is import­ant to note that we would­n’t have even got the movie made the way we did, because we went to all these inde­pend­ent sources for fin­an­cing for inde­pend­ent film­makers. None of them took us and gave us a deal in Amer­ica. Or New York, where we met. But people from the fourth chan­nel, which had recently star­ted, liked it and they inves­ted. They bought the rights to show it on tv. And the second chan­nel, chan­nel two in Ger­many, ZDF, did the same thing. 

So with that money that we got from the fourth chan­nel and from ZDF, we went back to oth­er people and said, “Look, we have a decent amount of money here”. And they were like, Whoa. That con­vinced some people to then get involved. So that got the ball rolling, which for me, with my back­ground was monu­ment­al. Max Roach, a really import­ant drum­mer from the jazz scene, was my god­fath­er and a close friend of my dad. I remem­ber grow­ing up with the stor­ies of how dif­fi­cult it was, and how it was a lot bet­ter when these guys traveled to Europe. It was­n’t the aggress­ive, back of the bus type of racism that Amer­ica had in that time. And I remem­ber the way they would just hear Max and my dad talk about how these musi­cians were treated so much bet­ter. People just did­n’t take it. They did­n’t have all the racist bag­gage that they would con­sider. You know that has gone on in Amer­ica. It still goes on. So those oppor­tun­it­ies were super excit­ing that the film was going to be released in Ger­many, in Eng­land, and stuff like that. 

So it was quite sur­pris­ing and con­tin­ues to be sur­pris­ing how the film is embraced over­seas. We figured, well, Eng­land, they speak Eng­lish and our rap being in the Eng­lish lan­guage and words, the Eng­lish will get it, but the French, the Dutch, the Ger­mans and all these oth­er people, that was mind blow­ing. We had no idea that it was going to trans­late because, you fig­ure these people ain’t going to under­stand what’s being said, but they picked up on the energy, the vibe, that raw, street, some­thing that we show­cased. They all said, Yes, we got it. And now here’s our ver­sion. We got stor­ies to tell as well.

When you watch Wild Style now, it’s a time cap­sule of New York City back then. What do you remem­ber most vividly about the era that no longer exists today?

 How about everything! Things change. You know, that’s a nat­ur­al pro­cess. New York has changed so dra­mat­ic­ally. I guess, if you’re bene­fit­ing from the changes; You own prop­erty and can make money off your real estate and high rents and get big money. But on the oth­er side of it, it’s like, none. Some­times, okay, so I live in Har­lem, and some­times I’ve had to go to the Bronx, which is just right over the bridge from Har­lem, which is in upper Man­hat­tan. I’m driv­ing around look­ing for things. There’s a lot of car mech­an­ic places to get your car fixed in the Bronx.

So some­times I’m up there and I’m kind of lost, but I’m try­ing to get to this area, in that area, and then it hits me, oh my good­ness, like, you’ll be on a block, and there’ll be a nice block, a couple of blocks of nice, two story fam­ily houses that were prob­ably built some­time in the last 20 or 25 or so years. It’ll hit me that, oh my god, this is one of those blocks where oth­er build­ings look like they’ve been bombed out, like Gaza, as sad as that is, or Ukraine, like that’s how hor­rible it used to look. And then I real­ized this is one of those many blocks and build­ings that have been rebuilt, and then it’ll hit me how dra­mat­ic­ally dif­fer­ent and oppress­ive it used to be. So that some­times hits me. And then I’ll just go into a zone where I remem­ber how edgy it used to be in the Bronx, back then and oth­er parts of New York City as well. Things are just so dif­fer­ent. Like, I mean, the same thing going on in Eng­land. I’ve seen gentri­fic­a­tion over there in areas like Brix­ton. When I was con­nec­ted with Mas­ter­mind Road­show, I would go and stay in those guys’ homes. They reminded me so much of being in Brook­lyn, like, black Brook­lyn back then, you know? The Jamaic­an food, the Carib­bean vibe. It was like déjà vu, like, Am I back in Brooklyn? 

Yeah, I’m cur­rently liv­ing in Brix­ton.

Yeah, I know it’s still got fla­vour, a little.

Just hold­ing on.

Well, that’s, unfor­tu­nately, a lot of what’s happened in New York City, in many areas. I tell people, Look, I’m gonna keep it a buck with you. White people have been lied to, and they were scared. It was nev­er as bad as they made it out to be. But that’s how it was in New York and now in Har­lem, where I live, you know, it’s, it’s very diverse now, as well as in the Brook­lyn where I’m from, the same thing, hom­ies that grew up with me and my era, we still talk about how we still can­’t believe how much has changed, some­times it’s it’s a good thing, and some­times it ain’t.

When you wit­ness Hip Hop now, the sound, imagery, the busi­ness mod­el of it all. What parts make you proud and what parts make you nos­tal­gic of the early days?

Well, I’m pretty open to music changes, every era, every gen­er­a­tion. You’re going to have that stuff that you grow up with, that you love, and then some­thing new is going to come around. And a lot of times people, when they grow older, they’re not with that, that new­er thing. So I’m very con­scious of that, so I’m not overtly, extremely crit­ic­al, but there is a lot of non­sense to some of the young­er rap­pers. I mean, rap­pers in every era have done non­sense, if you will. But I think the thing that’s some­what really the major dif­fer­ence, besides the changes in the music, is that way we get access to the music; the stream­ing, the You­Tube, I mean. All of this tech­no­logy, which is great because I’ve always been up on it and a bit ahead of the curb. But it’s unfor­tu­nate, some of the aspects of the way the busi­ness was structured. 

If I like a record, I want to read all the inform­a­tion on the back of what used to be the album, then the CD. Now there’s noth­ing. Like, where do I find out? If I want to know, who recor­ded this, who was the engin­eer? There’s so much stuff that you don’t get access to, and that’s prob­lem­at­ic. And in Amer­ica, maybe the same thing in the UK, new records were released on a Tues­day. That used to be the day when new music came out. So in a cer­tain week, you’d be like, Yo, so and so just dropped. You’d be like, Oh, my God, is it yo? Is it bank? Oh, you see. Now it’s so all over the place. Everything is so scattered. So there’s good and bad that I see in it, because you can get access to so much of everything.

I’m in Lis­bon right now. I was just in Nairobi, Kenya for a couple of weeks. And, you know what’s amaz­ing? I did some pod­cast inter­views over there. They totally know my whole story because it’s all access­ible. It was a lot more work to get this inform­a­tion before but it’s also good that you have maybe easi­er ways to find inform­a­tion now. I’m that per­son that reads everything and has books and stuff like that. I’m con­stantly look­ing at both sides of the coin, but once again, when I was in Kenya, I asked about some stuff. I can go right on Spo­ti­fy. Can go right on this. I can go to You­Tube, and I can see more examples of it, and I can hear it imme­di­ately, and they can do the same for stuff com­ing out. I’m just happy to see people do their own thing and be ori­gin­al with it. You know, there was a time, well, when I first was over, back in that peri­od, there were guys try­ing to rap, and they were all in, you know, try­ing to emu­late what was com­ing out of Amer­ica, New York, whatever. Then when I was doing Yo! MTV Raps, I went over and I inter­viewed Lon­don Posse. They were a big deal back then, but I knew then these guys were fol­low­ing what was going on in Amer­ica. And then they came with that whole style that was totally theirs, the whole Grime thing. Diz­zie Ras­cal dropped, and then I’m like, Whoa. Now this is what I’m what they needed, their own thing, and now you got super, mega artists. Those cats that have emerged. That’s what I like to see: when oth­er cul­tures, oth­er places, fig­ure out a way to make it theirs. I mean, so there’s many dif­fer­ent styles. Drill star­ted in Eng­land, if I’m not mis­taken? Drill came over and that’s some of the most dan­ger­ous stuff when you hear what Chica­go drill did to those guys. It is bey­ond sad, the way they lit­er­ally doing the things that they rap about.

A lot of rap­pers would talk about doing gang­ster stuff, but not really do it in Chica­go and oth­er places where that got pop­u­lar. I mean, it was unfor­tu­nate, and it’s because of the sys­tem. You could shoot a video on your iPhone, and we put it all out on You­Tube. It has an incred­ible amount of influ­ence, and young kids that are not that edu­cated, don’t have good fam­ily struc­tures, are just doing hor­rif­ic things, and that’s one of the sad­dest things. You know, it’s always been some edgy drama going on in the hood, but some of that stuff is just bey­ond the bey­ond for me. So that’s problematic.

When you were mak­ing Wild Style, what did you hope people would take from it and look­ing back at the world now, do you feel like your ori­gin­al vis­ion has come to pass, or has it evolved into some­thing com­pletely different?

Yeah, I think a part of film­mak­ing, and oth­er film­makers could attest to this, is things you envi­sion, things that come out, you hope will come out good, but things change and evolve. It’s an organ­ic pro­cess of film­mak­ing, but being that I was the one that really had a sense of what Charlie learned really fast, I was super impressed with intro­du­cing him to this thing that was then com­pletely under­ground. Intro­du­cing him to the hard­est core aspects of it. And Charlie was lik­ing all the stuff that was really good. And I’m telling you at that time, in con­text, it was so dif­fer­ent and so rare. Noth­ing soun­ded like that when you got with the right DJs cut­ting up those extremely obscure break beats. They were cre­at­ing a mood and sounds that wer­en’t hap­pen­ing any­where else. And Charlie got it right away. So our efforts were to cap­ture that real and that raw, and when he was then able to under­stand what I intro­duced to him, we got to show the world what the real and the raw really was. And so the fact that we were able to do a decent job, and the first screen­ings in New York City, where the real heads in the film came from, guys from the hood came and went crazy. 

It was the most incred­ible sat­is­fac­tion. People lit­er­ally scream­ing out, “yo, there’s so and so. Here’s my train going by. Yo, that’s my homie over there. That’s so and so there,” laugh­ing at everything when Busy Bee is on the mic, telling the people at the party, every­body say, “hold up”  and the whole audi­ence doing in the theat­er. Moments like that were like, oh my god, we did it. And that was sat­is­fy­ing. But the fact that it traveled so well around the world was really a mind blow­ing exper­i­ence, because we nev­er really anti­cip­ated, like kids in all these oth­er places we’re going, to con­nect and get in sync with that energy.

Finally, what do you want young artists and film­makers today to take away from Wild Style? 

My par­ents were the last people in Brook­lyn (I used to think), to get col­or tv. My fath­er was­n’t a big tv guy. Two films that we liked and were big inspir­a­tions were The Harder They Come, and Black Orph­eus. So those films intro­duced the world to new forms of music and a whole new energy around the people. And that was some­thing in our minds. We feel like we cap­tured that. That was a driv­ing thing, to be as real and raw as those films were, which had real people in the films as well, The Harder They Come, these guys were the real dudes in Jamaica that intro­duced the world to Jamaic­an Rasta, Rude Boy, that whole shit. Black Orph­eus did that for Bossa Nova, and you got to see how black it really is in Brazil. Beau­ti­fully pho­to­graphed and just excit­ing. We wanted to do that with our film, and I feel we got kind of close to that. And so those were the inspir­a­tions. I just hope people, if they see it, they see it. They could get an under­stand­ing of where it came from. It was a very humble begin­nings. That is anoth­er thing I like to point out. 

A lot of artists these days are chas­ing the pro­ver­bi­al bag. There’s noth­ing wrong with that. But in the begin­ning, people were motiv­ated by try­ing to be ori­gin­al, try­ing to have a style that stood up against any­thing. I think a lot of times, some of the young­er acts that I hear com­ing out of Amer­ica, things sound very sim­il­ar. I know music changes, but it was very import­ant to be dis­tinctly dif­fer­ent, and the great artists always are. So I know artists want to do it for vari­ous reas­ons, but if you really want to stand out and last the test of time, you have to be ori­gin­al. You can­’t sound like nobody else. You’ve got to fig­ure out that thing that nobody else has. And if you can fig­ure that out, you’ve got a shot to really stand as a real cre­at­ive per­son, mak­ing film, mak­ing music, mak­ing whatever you do. You feel me. Just be ori­gin­al. That’s what I’m about. I think that’s a good thing. 

You’ve put a fire under my ass about my own art. So thank you. Your book Everybody’s Fly is due to come out in March 2026?

Yes, March, Every­body’s Fly. Every­body’s fly­ing. I go deep into a lot of this stuff. Wild Style is a big part of it, and mak­ing art, and, you know, hook­ing up with all the incred­ible people on the New York art scene, and all the bless­ings that I’ve had. The great people, many of so are not here any­more, but made an indelible mark. You know, Jean Michel, Keith Har­ing. A lot of people, a lot of heads that were all in this shit togeth­er. There was a whole crew, try­ing to make moves. 

Thank you so so much for your time, for your energy, for your amaz­ing words. 

 

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Valerie Ebuwa

Valer­ie “wing girl” Ebuwa is a freel­ance dance artist and yoga teach­er from East Lon­don. She is cur­rently dan­cing for 3 con­tem­por­ary dance com­pan­ies and is one of the found­ing mem­bers of Eclectics Dance and CEO of Hip Hop House.

About Valerie Ebuwa

Valerie "wing girl" Ebuwa is a freelance dance artist and yoga teacher from East London. She is currently dancing for 3 contemporary dance companies and is one of the founding members of Eclectics Dance and CEO of Hip Hop House.