SouthFlorida.com | City Link Magazine

Like many kids who grew up in Miami's inner city, Adam Duggins wanted to be a rapper. He had high hopes but low finances, which meant he had no money to rent a recording studio. So as a teenager, Duggins borrowed a friend's beatmaking equipment and began creating music to rap over. His tracks were so original and funky that local rappers were soon asking him to make beats for them, as well. Realizing that he had a better chance of breaking into the hip-hop business as a producer than as a rapper, Duggins eventually traded in his pen and paper for keyboards and a set of turntables.

Now in his early 30s, Duggins is better known throughout South Florida's hip-hop community as Righteous Funk Boogie, and his skills in the studio are widely acknowledged by artists and fans of the gritty Dirty South style. Duggins has earned his biggest credits with Miami rapper Trick Daddy, who first contacted him after hearing his work with Tre+6, Trick's labelmates on Slip-N-Slide Records. In 1997, Trick Daddy enlisted Duggins to produce eight tracks for his 1997 album Based on a True Story. That led to work on the rapper's 2001 crossover album Thugs Are Us, which yielded the Duggins-produced hits "I'm a Thug" and "Take It to da House."

Although he rejects the term, Duggins is one of an increasing number of hip-hop craftsmen known as beatmakers. Unlike high-profile rapper-producers such as Dr. Dre and Kanye West, beatmakers traditionally shy away from the spotlight. They are more content to work behind the turntables or in the confines of a secluded studio than to perform onstage.

"Beatmakers are people true to their craft, like the recording artist. They listen meticulously and make beats to impress their peers," Duggins explains. "Producers are mainly concerned about whether or not the song is going to be a hit. They are thinking about the whole package -- the beat, the hook and the rap."

Even if household-name status isn't much of a goal for most beatmakers, moving into a higher tax bracket is. While some underground beatmakers have been known to trade a beat for a bag of weed, their more-successful counterparts can command upward of $20,000 for a single track.

The advent of advanced musicmaking software such as Reason, Pro Tools and Fruity Loops has allowed beat peddlers to assemble tracks without having to leave home or spend money in a studio. "Back when I started making beats, I remember saving up $2,200 for a keyboard," Duggins recalls. "How convenient would it have been for me back then if I had what they have now? I think there's room for everybody in the game, though, old school and new school."

The new-school beatmakers, while respecting the styles of their predecessors, want to take advantage of all the benefits of modern technology. Old-schoolers such as Duggins prefer to stick to turntables, keyboards and sound machines. But South Florida's large and diverse hip-hop community offers more than enough room to accommodate everyone. Here are three other beatmakers who have attained varying levels of success.

In the Red Zone

Inside a tiny warehouse space in Fort Lauderdale, Sirgio Redwood lounges in front of his PC. A smoky haze chokes the room, in which the only source of light is a single red bulb mounted on a wall. This is the fifth home of Red Zone Music, a production company and studio whose location Redwood prefers to keep secret for what he claims are professional and personal reasons. A veteran beatmaker, Redwood is a firm adherent to the old-school, sample-free style, and his music encompasses dancehall, hip-hop and R&B.

While he emphasizes an organic approach to beatmaking, Redwood is not anti-sampling, arguing that it is a valid expression of creativity. "I build the track from scratch. I can work my way around a keyboard," he explains. "[But] even if you are sampling, you are still creating music."

Although he respects samplers, Redwood avoids the practice for one very good reason: He doesn't want to pay to use someone else's track. Typically, when an artist samples a previously recorded song -- even if he incorporates only a beat or a vocal -- he has to pay a bulk of the royalties to the original song's creator.

In 1996, Redwood sold his first beat to the Courage Band, a Bahamian group, for $4,500. While that was a significant amount for him at the time, he didn't become overconfident and hustled harder than before. "I've been on the grind selling beats since '96," he says. "I remember times when I sold a beat for $100 just to help pay the rent. And I'm still on the grind."

Dare to be different

At 1 p.m. on a recent Friday, an unemployed Brandon Torres, who also goes by the handle Name Brand, is finishing a bowl of cereal in the dining room of his parents' Miami home. His MPC2000XL, a primitive-looking yet state-of-the-art beatmaking machine he refers to as his "baby," is seated next to him at the table. While he has yet to sell one of his beats, Torres is confident he can break into the music scene.

"I want to bring a different sound to the game. Everybody wants to sound like what's already out there," says the 22-year-old, whose jazzy hip-hop beats are reminiscent of old Pete Rock tunes such as "T.R.O.Y. (They Reminisce Over You)." "Maybe I'll be the first one out to do one for the underdogs."

Born in Brooklyn, N.Y., Torres got interested in music as a child, watching his uncle DJ parties in New York. In middle school, he played the drums in the school band. He later earned a degree in audio engineering at the SAE Institute in North Miami Beach.

Unlike Redwood, Torres swears by sampling, arguing that it reinvents the old, merging unexpected sounds, such as vintage jazz and 1950s lounge music, in an original way.

"I sample, but I try to flip stuff up so you can't really notice it," he explains. "I give it my own personal touch, but I don't like using the keyboard because all the sounds are the same."

Torres says he is hoping his style of music will give him an edge over what he calls a monotonous-sounding industry. A beatmaking career would be ideal for Torres, who loathes the idea of putting on a suit and working a nine-to-five job.

"Music is so easy for me," Torres boasts. "For me to get paid to do something that comes naturally would be pretty great."

Hustling beats

If it weren't for the boldly inked tattoo bearing the word Kreep on his right forearm, the otherwise clean-cut David Bookbinder would easily blend in with the bustling lunchtime crowd at the Samba Room in downtown Fort Lauderdale. He's dressed in a polo shirt, crisp blue jeans and a pair of brand-new black Nike classics that he bought earlier today. "I don't feel right doing an interview without new kicks," he explains.

The 23-year-old Bookbinder, a.k.a. Kreep, takes pride in his appearance because, as he puts it, he's always working. You can find him peddling his beat CD at local hip-hop events, concerts and venues, all in the name of shameless self-promotion. His goal is to have his music heard by as many people as possible. He constantly beats the streets, hoping that one day his music will catch the attention of the right artist, who will help jet his career to superstardom. "When you get production credit on the right album, your stock goes up automatically," he says.

At 15, Bookbinder was DJ'ing electronic music for friends and small parties in California. He says he began making money off his beats only a year ago, selling a few unreleased tracks to local artists. He has also been working with rappers such as Piccolo, Freddy P (from the original cast of Diddy's Making the Band) and Pluz Wun, a local rapper who recently won the Lyrical Boxing Challenge, an MC battle in South Florida.

Bookbinder says his style of beatmaking is to complement the artist on the track, not overpower him. "I don't want the beat to talk too much," he explains. "I want the artist to tell the story."

He samples from an extensive record collection, including albums by former Led Zeppelin singer Robert Plant, jazz trumpeter Maynard Ferguson's Conquistador and works by drum 'n' bass mixer Roni Size. Bookbinder claims he can sample anything -- even country music -- and create a hip-hop beat from it.

Bookbinder admits to being a sampler but says he is taking steps to protect himself from lawsuits and being cheated out of money. He has joined the American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers (ASCAP) and is learning the radio business by interning at the local hip-hop station 99 Jamz (WEDR, 99.1-FM). He is currently working part-time with Fort Lauderdale-based distribution company Alliance Music and is also on the street team for 103.5 The Beat (WMIB, 103.5-FM).

"It's a hustle," he admits. "It's like a drug game, really. You have to get your customers, then have something that keeps them coming."