An Impromptu Interview With Mr. Collipark, the Atlanta Producer Who Helped Shape Southern Party Rap

And what’s the point of having a column on Pitchfork.com if you can’t impulsively hit up Mr. Collipark and ask him about it? It’s not everyday you get to talk to someone who was there before the widespread commercialization of Atlanta rap, and also there when it officially became the hip-hop capital of the 21st century. I rang him a few weeks ago, and he answered my video call while on his way home from the barber. We chatted, for this interview that’s been edited for length and clarity, about his more-than-three-decade mission to get the clubs poppin’.

Pitchfork: What do you think it is that keeps giving your “Whistle While You Twurk” beat new life?

Mr. Collipark: For me, everything I ever did started with the culture. And, for “Whistle While You Twurk,” we just wanted to make music for the strip clubs of Atlanta. And when you have your boots on the ground music just lasts. Look, tomorrow I’m headed to L.A. to accept an award for Sexyy Red sampling Hurricane Chris, who was signed to me. When you’re really in it, it’s all connected. That’s why people still listen to the Temptations; that’s why people still listen to Motown; it was part of the culture.

Is that why you’ve always wanted to make music for the clubs?

Nah, that just comes from me being a DJ; it’s what I know. Down in the South, that’s all we wanted to hear. This was pre-Outkast, pre–Organized Noize. In Atlanta, MC Shy D was it, and 2 Live Crew, too, so when I started DJing that was what was making people move.

When did you start DJing?

In the early ’90s when I went to Alabama A&M in Huntsville. It was my first time really being around people who weren’t from Atlanta, my whole floor was from New York, Chicago, and Detroit, so I had to force the party music on them.

Back then, how important were the colleges, especially the HBCUs, in passing music between cities?

It was important, especially the spring breaks. Whoever had the song of spring break, that became the song of the summer. I remember when “Whoomp! (There It Is)” and the 69 Boyz’s “Tootsee Roll” took over because of that. If you didn’t promote your music at spring break it wasn’t going to be a hit.

How did you go from college DJ to the DJ for MC Shy D?

I was in a DJ crew, the J-Team, that was very popular on the east side of Atlanta. Shy D wasn’t an official member, but he was always around out there, and, when DJ Toomp left him, he was looking for a new one and the crew turned him on to me. So I became his DJ and that’s how I started producing, too. The first record I ever produced was for him called “True to the Game,” on Ichiban Records.

Was there anything that you noticed that distinguished Shy D’s bass music from the scene in Miami?

Well, first we didn’t call it bass, we called it booty shake [laughs]. But Shy D was born in the Bronx, and the way he wanted the records mixed and mastered came from the way they did it in the New York boom-bap scene. The kick and snare had to hit like they did in New York, and that’s why when you listen to something like “Whistle While You Twurk” it still sounds good today, because I took that sound into all the music I made with the Ying Yang Twins.

What music did you grow up on?

That first 2 Live Crew record changed my life. “Throw the D” was my shit. Before that, only a couple records from up North made their way down here—we had the first Run-D.M.C. album and Sugarhill Gang—but it wasn’t until Krush Groove came out did I feel that everybody in the South was trying to rap. That’s when we started getting our own thing, because there wouldn’t be Freaknik without that. C’mon, man, imagine if everyone was listening to Eric B. & Rakim at Freaknik?

What’s the greatest Freaknik song ever?

Both “Whoomp! (There It Is)” and “Whoot, There It Is,” the 95 South version. The 95 South version was grimier, but, together, they both reflected two sides of the booty shake. They were so massive; I think that’s when it all started getting commercialized.

Was that a good or bad thing?

Both. It opened the door for the genre to be exploited, which was a bad thing. Once “My Boo” happened, which was one of the greatest songs of that era and was inspired by the Edward J and J-Team mixtapes, mixing R&B records with stuff like “Planet Rock,” everyone started mimicking that sound. Now, all of a sudden, we had R&B booty shake, like “Swing My Way,” and now you got “C’mon N’ Ride It (The Train),” and the sound got watered down fast. All the hardcore shit got phased out because all the softer stuff took over the radio. I think it made Atlanta have to find a more nationally appealing sound. I’m glad it happened, though, or else I would have never found the Ying Yang Twins.