britneybaby
Jan 23rd, 2006, 08:01 AM
http://www.mtv.com/bands/f/federline_kevin/federline_kevin_012306/index.jhtml
MTV: Kevin Federline - The Luckiest Man Alive
— by Corey Moss
As he sits down behind the mixing board at the Malibu, California, studio where he's recording his upcoming hip-hop album, Kevin Federline takes a swig of Coke and ponders placing the can in our camera's frame.
"You know I've been f---ing publicizing their f---ing asses for f---ing years now. I think it's time for them to f---ing give me some loot," he says. "It could be great too, 'cause she was repping Pepsi, and I could be repping Coke." (She, of course, being wife Britney Spears.)
Federline flashes a mischievous smile and laughs.
Despite having a mouth like a truck driver's, K-Fed has an instant charm to him. He's the definition of laid back, but there is an eager energy in his voice and sincerity in what he says. He's pretty funny, too.
Kevin's the first to admit that he inherited a vital career advantage when he married Britney, but he doesn't call attention to her celebrity as he casually tells a story from his honeymoon about struggling without modern technology.
He chain smokes, and his style, at least today, is more beach bum than Malibu money. But besides that, it seems the tabloids' portrayal of Britney's man is unmerited.
"The biggest misconception about Kevin is that he's lazy," says Disco D, one of the producers of Federline's album. "Kevin really busts his ass and is a hard worker. I made him put in 12-hour days in the studio, and he really delivered. The other big misconception is that he's a bad father and husband. This couldn't be farther from the truth."
In the studio, after he turns the Coke label away from the camera, Federline puts on his new single, "PopoZao," and raps along to the first few lines. He moves his hands as if he's conducting the track and eventually pulls out whatever dance moves one can do while sitting.
"Disco went to Brazil and came back and had this beat," he says, still bobbing along. "We were sitting there listening to a bunch of Brazilian tracks, a lot of dance stuff from out there, real repetitious stuff. I caught on to the lingo and started asking him, 'How do you say this? How do you say that?' We made this song in one day, and it was brilliant."
After recording "PopoZao" — apparently Portuguese slang for "nice ass" — Kevin played the song for his wife, and she loved it. That's about as far as she lends her experienced ears.
"We talk about [my music], but not in that [critical] way," says Federline, whose husky voice has a bit of Southern drawl that must have rubbed off from his wife. "She's there and she supports my decision on what I've done. She'll sit there and brainstorm ideas of the outer things around the music, what people are gonna do and how this is gonna happen. She's given me insight in that.
"But I've seen it, too," he adds. "Being out here and dancing for all these artists, I've seen what goes on behind the scenes. I've been able to learn so much from it. And now I'm able to use that just to gain [experience in] what I'm about to do. It's great because I know the ins and outs of all this. I've been a rookie for like seven years, and I've worked my way up from apprenticeship to journeyman. And it's inevitable, man."
Kevin believes that joining Britney in the music business benefits their marriage — which, by the way, he says is not in any trouble.
"I'm with somebody who understands, and that's the best way to look at it," he says. "She knows exactly what I'm about to go through. She's been through it. All that can do is help. She knows what to do, what to tell me, how to comfort me if I'm upset. That's how we work. We're so there for each other all the time."
Federline recently had a studio built in the mansion where he and Britney are raising their infant son, Sean Preston. ("You couldn't ask for a better mom," he says of Spears.) Right now he's learning the equipment, and ideally the couple will share it down the road. "We have fun when we get into the studio together," he says.
So far, the couple has recorded a few tracks together, which Kevin described as the most personal music he's ever made. The plan, however, is to "save 'em for later" and first introduce the world to Federline the rapper sans his famous wife — if that's possible. Most of the world, of course, already feels like they know K-Fed, thanks to constant paparazzi-fed coverage of his life in the tabloids, which have painted him as a hard-partying, freeloading, irresponsible parent.
"I don't pick up the magazines and read 'em," he says. "It doesn't matter."
"This is my favorite joint right here," Federline says as cranks the volume on "Down South," a crunk tune with the opening lyric, "Put your middle fingers up if you really don't give a f---."
Kevin Earl Federline was born on March 21, 1978 in Fresno, California, and raised on a steady diet of hip-hop, from Run-DMC on.
Through his love of rap he learned to dance, which occasionally helped keep him out of trouble. In his Tenaya Middle School yearbook he was named "Most Likely to Be Seen on 'America's Most Wanted'," and he was heading in that direction until he packed his bags and moved to Los Angeles to pursue dancing.
"When I got out of my situation in my hometown ... I found a whole new way of life," he says, recalling his initial years in L.A. working with everyone from Michael Jackson to Pink to Justin Timberlake. "I actually was doing something that I loved to do. I wasn't doing some job where I hated going to work every day. I was tickled when I got to travel all around the world. I called my mom crying. You know, I'd never really been outside of California too much before then. And that's what it's about for me, doing what your heart desires and your soul desires. And if you just listen to it, you'll figure it out."
After settling down with Britney, Kevin knew he had an opportunity to finally pursue music as an artist first and dancer second, so he booked some time at nearby Document Room Recording Studios, where he is today.
"I didn't know what route, what direction I would go until I got in the studio and then everything happened naturally, everything turned into this real hip-hoppy stuff," he says. "I have other stuff I tried that actually sounds pretty good, alternative stuff, rock stuff, but I'm gonna go this route 'cause this is what I grew up with. This is what's in my blood. I don't know no different."
Within hip-hop, Kevin wants to go all in sorts of directions, musically and lyrically, which is what attracted him to Disco D and his other producer, newcomer Notes.
"Everything they've thrown at me is so diverse," he exclaims. "My favorite is when you walk into the studio and hear something you didn't expect to hear. ... That's the element of surprise. You just get hit with the beat upside your head and it's like, 'Put me in the booth right now. I don't even need to write nothing down. Let's do it.' That's it for me. It's like a rush, man."
Disco D, who worked on 50 Cent's The Massacre, says he wanted to take Federline as left field as he would go while still reflecting his personality. "Kevin has a lot of guts for doing what he did on 'PopoZao,' taking a stab at a new developing style from a totally different country and culture," he says.
Lyrically, Federline has a few tunes that address the media and "pavarottis," as he calls the paparazzi. Others recall his troubled teenage years, including "Untold Stories," which samples a Journey track. "Using your life situations and talking about 'em, that's what hip-hop is," he says. "I'm just a real person, man. That's it."
Most of his songs, however, are straight-up club tracks.
"I want to be able to go out there and dance," he explains. "I don't want to give that up. That's a big piece of my life. So in order to do that, I need to get everyone else out there to shake their ass."
Although his album's not due until spring, Kevin's already putting together his live show, relying on knowledge he took in as a touring dancer.
"That's going to be the best part of my album is watching me perform it," he says. "I've seen so many stage performances and so many shows, the ideas I have for this tour are ridiculous. It's gonna be something totally different. You don't see rappers dancing, and I'm dancing for sure. And it ain't gonna be no poppy dancing. The people I got with me are a bunch of street cats who are ridiculous."
Perhaps because of the perception that he's a slacker, Federline takes a great deal of pride in doing his work himself.
"I put this whole project together," he boasts. "I've done it from scratch. I've had little help at all from people, no labels, no nothing like that. From doing that to what it is, it's incredible."
Document Room owner and producer J.T. Meskiel testifies to Kevin's determination. "We start in the studio at 8:30 in the morning," he says. "Kev writes all his own material, and I don't mean on paper. He just goes into the booth and works it out. ... And I've never met anyone who takes negative press in stride, but he's always positive."
Right now, Federline's without a record label — he released "PopoZao" earlier this month via the Internet — and he might stay that way.
"I haven't decided yet," he says. "I'm building my machine that's getting ready to set sail and I don't know, man. I'm gonna use the Internet a lot. You have to use the Internet now, so I figure I'll start my stuff by launching it on the Internet. All I have is time, and without a label, I can do whatever I want. ... All it is is strategizing. You try to find that solution and run with it."
Back in the studio, Federline tosses in "Pot Roastin'," a "booty joint" with sexed-up lyrics over a simplistic beat. After the line "Between the cheeks/ Turn your little girls from sweet to freaks," he lets out a laugh and halts the track.
"I think that's enough!"
He takes in the silence and gathers his thoughts.
"It's crazy how it's coming together, just like a puzzle that keeps falling and falling into place," he says of the album. "When you get knocked down, some other piece falls to help you get back up there. It's been a rollercoaster, blood, sweat and tears on this one."
Federline knows he's got a long road ahead of him, but he's clearly optimistic. And whatever happens, he won't give up easily.
"I'm doing this because it's something that I love to do," he says. "People spend their whole lives in jobs and situations they don't like. So for me, I feel like I'm the luckiest man alive to be able to do what I love to do."
MTV: Kevin Federline - The Luckiest Man Alive
— by Corey Moss
As he sits down behind the mixing board at the Malibu, California, studio where he's recording his upcoming hip-hop album, Kevin Federline takes a swig of Coke and ponders placing the can in our camera's frame.
"You know I've been f---ing publicizing their f---ing asses for f---ing years now. I think it's time for them to f---ing give me some loot," he says. "It could be great too, 'cause she was repping Pepsi, and I could be repping Coke." (She, of course, being wife Britney Spears.)
Federline flashes a mischievous smile and laughs.
Despite having a mouth like a truck driver's, K-Fed has an instant charm to him. He's the definition of laid back, but there is an eager energy in his voice and sincerity in what he says. He's pretty funny, too.
Kevin's the first to admit that he inherited a vital career advantage when he married Britney, but he doesn't call attention to her celebrity as he casually tells a story from his honeymoon about struggling without modern technology.
He chain smokes, and his style, at least today, is more beach bum than Malibu money. But besides that, it seems the tabloids' portrayal of Britney's man is unmerited.
"The biggest misconception about Kevin is that he's lazy," says Disco D, one of the producers of Federline's album. "Kevin really busts his ass and is a hard worker. I made him put in 12-hour days in the studio, and he really delivered. The other big misconception is that he's a bad father and husband. This couldn't be farther from the truth."
In the studio, after he turns the Coke label away from the camera, Federline puts on his new single, "PopoZao," and raps along to the first few lines. He moves his hands as if he's conducting the track and eventually pulls out whatever dance moves one can do while sitting.
"Disco went to Brazil and came back and had this beat," he says, still bobbing along. "We were sitting there listening to a bunch of Brazilian tracks, a lot of dance stuff from out there, real repetitious stuff. I caught on to the lingo and started asking him, 'How do you say this? How do you say that?' We made this song in one day, and it was brilliant."
After recording "PopoZao" — apparently Portuguese slang for "nice ass" — Kevin played the song for his wife, and she loved it. That's about as far as she lends her experienced ears.
"We talk about [my music], but not in that [critical] way," says Federline, whose husky voice has a bit of Southern drawl that must have rubbed off from his wife. "She's there and she supports my decision on what I've done. She'll sit there and brainstorm ideas of the outer things around the music, what people are gonna do and how this is gonna happen. She's given me insight in that.
"But I've seen it, too," he adds. "Being out here and dancing for all these artists, I've seen what goes on behind the scenes. I've been able to learn so much from it. And now I'm able to use that just to gain [experience in] what I'm about to do. It's great because I know the ins and outs of all this. I've been a rookie for like seven years, and I've worked my way up from apprenticeship to journeyman. And it's inevitable, man."
Kevin believes that joining Britney in the music business benefits their marriage — which, by the way, he says is not in any trouble.
"I'm with somebody who understands, and that's the best way to look at it," he says. "She knows exactly what I'm about to go through. She's been through it. All that can do is help. She knows what to do, what to tell me, how to comfort me if I'm upset. That's how we work. We're so there for each other all the time."
Federline recently had a studio built in the mansion where he and Britney are raising their infant son, Sean Preston. ("You couldn't ask for a better mom," he says of Spears.) Right now he's learning the equipment, and ideally the couple will share it down the road. "We have fun when we get into the studio together," he says.
So far, the couple has recorded a few tracks together, which Kevin described as the most personal music he's ever made. The plan, however, is to "save 'em for later" and first introduce the world to Federline the rapper sans his famous wife — if that's possible. Most of the world, of course, already feels like they know K-Fed, thanks to constant paparazzi-fed coverage of his life in the tabloids, which have painted him as a hard-partying, freeloading, irresponsible parent.
"I don't pick up the magazines and read 'em," he says. "It doesn't matter."
"This is my favorite joint right here," Federline says as cranks the volume on "Down South," a crunk tune with the opening lyric, "Put your middle fingers up if you really don't give a f---."
Kevin Earl Federline was born on March 21, 1978 in Fresno, California, and raised on a steady diet of hip-hop, from Run-DMC on.
Through his love of rap he learned to dance, which occasionally helped keep him out of trouble. In his Tenaya Middle School yearbook he was named "Most Likely to Be Seen on 'America's Most Wanted'," and he was heading in that direction until he packed his bags and moved to Los Angeles to pursue dancing.
"When I got out of my situation in my hometown ... I found a whole new way of life," he says, recalling his initial years in L.A. working with everyone from Michael Jackson to Pink to Justin Timberlake. "I actually was doing something that I loved to do. I wasn't doing some job where I hated going to work every day. I was tickled when I got to travel all around the world. I called my mom crying. You know, I'd never really been outside of California too much before then. And that's what it's about for me, doing what your heart desires and your soul desires. And if you just listen to it, you'll figure it out."
After settling down with Britney, Kevin knew he had an opportunity to finally pursue music as an artist first and dancer second, so he booked some time at nearby Document Room Recording Studios, where he is today.
"I didn't know what route, what direction I would go until I got in the studio and then everything happened naturally, everything turned into this real hip-hoppy stuff," he says. "I have other stuff I tried that actually sounds pretty good, alternative stuff, rock stuff, but I'm gonna go this route 'cause this is what I grew up with. This is what's in my blood. I don't know no different."
Within hip-hop, Kevin wants to go all in sorts of directions, musically and lyrically, which is what attracted him to Disco D and his other producer, newcomer Notes.
"Everything they've thrown at me is so diverse," he exclaims. "My favorite is when you walk into the studio and hear something you didn't expect to hear. ... That's the element of surprise. You just get hit with the beat upside your head and it's like, 'Put me in the booth right now. I don't even need to write nothing down. Let's do it.' That's it for me. It's like a rush, man."
Disco D, who worked on 50 Cent's The Massacre, says he wanted to take Federline as left field as he would go while still reflecting his personality. "Kevin has a lot of guts for doing what he did on 'PopoZao,' taking a stab at a new developing style from a totally different country and culture," he says.
Lyrically, Federline has a few tunes that address the media and "pavarottis," as he calls the paparazzi. Others recall his troubled teenage years, including "Untold Stories," which samples a Journey track. "Using your life situations and talking about 'em, that's what hip-hop is," he says. "I'm just a real person, man. That's it."
Most of his songs, however, are straight-up club tracks.
"I want to be able to go out there and dance," he explains. "I don't want to give that up. That's a big piece of my life. So in order to do that, I need to get everyone else out there to shake their ass."
Although his album's not due until spring, Kevin's already putting together his live show, relying on knowledge he took in as a touring dancer.
"That's going to be the best part of my album is watching me perform it," he says. "I've seen so many stage performances and so many shows, the ideas I have for this tour are ridiculous. It's gonna be something totally different. You don't see rappers dancing, and I'm dancing for sure. And it ain't gonna be no poppy dancing. The people I got with me are a bunch of street cats who are ridiculous."
Perhaps because of the perception that he's a slacker, Federline takes a great deal of pride in doing his work himself.
"I put this whole project together," he boasts. "I've done it from scratch. I've had little help at all from people, no labels, no nothing like that. From doing that to what it is, it's incredible."
Document Room owner and producer J.T. Meskiel testifies to Kevin's determination. "We start in the studio at 8:30 in the morning," he says. "Kev writes all his own material, and I don't mean on paper. He just goes into the booth and works it out. ... And I've never met anyone who takes negative press in stride, but he's always positive."
Right now, Federline's without a record label — he released "PopoZao" earlier this month via the Internet — and he might stay that way.
"I haven't decided yet," he says. "I'm building my machine that's getting ready to set sail and I don't know, man. I'm gonna use the Internet a lot. You have to use the Internet now, so I figure I'll start my stuff by launching it on the Internet. All I have is time, and without a label, I can do whatever I want. ... All it is is strategizing. You try to find that solution and run with it."
Back in the studio, Federline tosses in "Pot Roastin'," a "booty joint" with sexed-up lyrics over a simplistic beat. After the line "Between the cheeks/ Turn your little girls from sweet to freaks," he lets out a laugh and halts the track.
"I think that's enough!"
He takes in the silence and gathers his thoughts.
"It's crazy how it's coming together, just like a puzzle that keeps falling and falling into place," he says of the album. "When you get knocked down, some other piece falls to help you get back up there. It's been a rollercoaster, blood, sweat and tears on this one."
Federline knows he's got a long road ahead of him, but he's clearly optimistic. And whatever happens, he won't give up easily.
"I'm doing this because it's something that I love to do," he says. "People spend their whole lives in jobs and situations they don't like. So for me, I feel like I'm the luckiest man alive to be able to do what I love to do."