Words
by Todd Williams
Images for Steed Media Service
Flex Appeal
Many poems, songs and sonnets have been written about the sunshine that appears after a rain shower. It’s a great metaphor for any rough time you happen to be going through — a symbol of the joy that awaits you at the end of turmoil. On a deeper, more existential level, it could be argued that the sunshine-after-a-rain analogy speaks to our belief in a peaceful existence in the hereafter, after all of our worldly worries are no more.
But today?
Today, on a summer afternoon in a town aptly nicknamed “HOTlanta,” sunshine that follows a rain shower means one thing.
Humidity.
The steam rises from the street as traffic oozes past — the residue of an early afternoon shower that has now passed. Unfortunately, in the Peach State, post-shower sunshine means a mugginess that can be close to unbearable. Sitting outside Lucky Lounge, superstar hip-hop DJ Funkmaster Flex holds court with a host of reporters. Between sips of water, New York’s most famous spinner relays his thoughts on a variety of subjects and steals a few glances as handlers prep the latest Ford Flex for a few promo shots. Ford and Funkmaster Flex have a long, productive history — one that is indicative of Ford’s understanding of how to market to a new generation of consumer. “When it comes to a vehicle looking sweet, this [car] is beyond sweet,” says Flex of the vehicle. “You can be hot coming off the dealership [lot] — [which] is a plus, but when you can customize it afterwards and turn a [a car] that’s a 10 into a 20 — that’s super-hot!”
Flex knows a thing or two about stylish cars, and he knows that Ford is in ‘full effect’ when it comes to styling for the hip-hop generation. “We’re launching this brand new crossover [and] it’s sweet as hell,” he continues. “When you go down the street people notice you.”
XXL editor-in-chief Datwon Thomas was also singing the praises of the Ford Flex. “This new Flex is extra ill, I had it out in the Hamptons about two weeks ago,” he says. “[We] drove from midtown New York all the way into the Hamptons for three hours, [and] every car almost crashed just looking at this joint. It’s like a Mini-Cooper on steroids!” Thomas drew all kinds of attention in the sleek, sporty ride from investment bankers and stock brokers all wanting to know about the car. “I met all kinds of people [that were] just intrigued by the look,” he says. “You can even change the accents of the interior color. It’s dope!”
Funkmaster Flex has been one of the most recognized men in hip-hop for years, but he’s also its most famous auto aficionado. He’s hosted “Ride With Funkmaster Flex” on SpikeTV, and ESPN’s “All Muscle With Funkmaster Flex” and “Car Wars.” Much like his love of music began at a young age, Flex has fond memories of his beginnings as a gearhead. “My dad was a super father,” he says. “He had a 1970 and a 1972 Cutlass. He’s the one that gave me car fever — my dad.” The elder Aston George Taylor often had his son riding in the back of those cars, and a young Flex absorbed all of the ambience of the automobile. “I used to sit in that back seat and smell that vinyl and that gas,” recalls Flex, grinning with nostalgia. “[The gas] was Gulf back then, [and] it wasn’t even ‘super’, it was just ‘leaded’ or ‘unleaded.’ That’s sick!”
Now a dad himself, Flex treasures those moments that he had as a youngster and appreciates the love and discipline that his parents gave him coming up. “You know when you think parents are just telling you stuff just to tell you?” he asks, rhetorically. “Until you have your own children — I got one 7 [and] one 2 — you [don’t] realize your parents were telling you things for a reason,” says Flex. “What my father instilled in me, I project to my children, [but] until you become a parent you do not understand your parents. It is impossible.”
“Fatherhood was good to me,” Flex adds. “If your father is out there and you haven’t talked to him in a little while, [you should] talk to him.”
It’s obvious that his parents are his primary role models and motivators. “My parents are beautiful, [but] people always say ‘My parents didn’t teach me how to make that happen,’ but even by them doing that, they taught you something; how to look forward and figure out how to do it,” he says. “There’s no rule that says your father is supposed to teach you everything that can go on. He’s supposed to give you a piece, and that piece [can] help you figure out the rest of your life.”
But hip-hop is never too far from the DJ’s mind. When asked about the current controversy surrounding Miami rapper Rick Ross and his apparent history as a corrections officer, Flex is thoughtful and understanding in his assessment of the situation. He’s quick to point out the images and personas that many rappers create, and the hypocrisies that sometimes lie behind hip-hop’s ‘keep it real’ mantra. “What is our definition of lying?” he asks. “Did 50 Cent stand on every corner he said he stood on in those records? Did 2Pac do everything that he said he did? He was standing next to the guy with the big nose doing the Humpty Dance.” Flex also notes that while this may be the hip-hop gossip nugget of the moment, this revelation is fueled by the technology that’s available to the public. “[This is] the age of the Internet and [that’s] what has caused this dude to get caught. This didn’t exist [before] to bust a dude like that. People barely talk about ‘Pac being in Digital Underground, and people never bring up Jay-Z and [his early pop-rap single] ‘Hawaiian Sophie.’ I worked flipping burgers and dropping fries, but there’s no pictures.”
That’s not to say that Flex doesn’t acknowledge the alleged dishonesty and he understands the fans’ right to be angry. While hip-hop appeals to suburban youth and the streets simultaneously, rappers can’t forge phony histories without alienating the people from those streets and exploiting the realities they claim to reflect. “[The controversy] would’ve ended the career of a mediocre rapper that was struggling in the business,” Flex continues. “[But] if Rick Ross sold four million albums and he needed those original street dudes to propel his career, then those street dudes got duped and I think it’s wrong by the code of ethics we have concerning being a rapper and having a career as a street rapper.”
A few people come outside to let Flex know that it’s time to go. As he’s leaving, a group of young kids scream his name from a bus stop across the street. Flex waves amiably, and walks back over to the Ford Flex and sits inside. As a few more preparations are made, Flex consults with a few Ford personnel about the car. He jots down a few things and sends a message on his BlackBerry®. Funkmaster Flex is a respected DJ, a connoisseur of fine automobiles, a committed member of the community, and he’s always and forever a hip-hop head. As we’re readying to leave, Flex answers a question I posed to him earlier about great hip-hop albums of the last decade or so. He pauses, with the same thoughtfulness he would give to discussing credibility, drive-ability, or listen-ability, before giving his answer. “ ‘Stillmatic,’ ” he says. He gives a litany of reasons for choosing Nas’ seminal 2001 album, before he is again reminded of the time. As he’s leaving, a publicist walks up and mentions that Flex can ‘go all day’ about hip-hop. “He just really needed to go,” she assures me. “Plus, it’s sooo hot! Can you believe the humidity down here?”
I'll be the first to admit - I am not into rides like that...but the Ford Flex had me doing a double take. I had no idea Funkmaster Flex was part of the creation. Ya'll got my interest peaked, I want to know exactly how involved he was with the pla... read more»
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