NEW YORK
Jin is a rapper.
He is also an Asian American. His parents emigrated from Hong Kong and settled in Miami, where he was born and raised.
Of the references in his music to his ancestry, Jin says, "That's what hip-hop is all about -- all of the most successful artists have been real adamant about who they are."
(Helayne Seidman For The Washington Post)
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Music buyers would be hard-pressed to find Asian American rappers in the hip-hop bins, and therefore Jin is both a novelty and a trailblazer. Not surprisingly, he's getting lots of media attention.
From his perspective, all that interest is a good thing -- sort of. "It's a double-edged sword, honestly," says Jin, 22. "I would be lying if I said I didn't want all the press coverage, but at the same time it does get frustrating 'cause I haven't done one interview in the last three years where my race wasn't brought up. It kinda makes me wonder -- are you really interested in the fact that I rhyme and I'm talented, or are you interested just because I'm Asian?"
But Jin, whose full name is Jin Au-Yueng, isn't playing down his heritage. He once squashed an opponent in a freestyle competition with the rhyme "I'm Chinese, now you understand it / I'm the reason that his little sister's eyes are slanted / If you make one joke about race or karate / NYPD be in Chinatown searchin' for your body."
His biggest hit to date, "Learn Chinese," attempts to skewer Asian stereotypes with lyrics such as "This ain't Bruce Lee. / Y'all watch too much TV." The song's video opens with Jin delivering Chinese food as he announces: "The days of the pork fried rice and the chicken wings comin' to your house by me is over." The video also depicts karate chops, hands-clasped greeting bows and Chinatown gangsters.
Most of us have gotten used to the idea of gifted white rappers -- there's Eminem, of course, and the Beastie Boys, among others -- and several Latinos have established themselves as hip-hop stars. Three decades after its inception, hip-hop is huge enough to accommodate artists of all ethnic backgrounds, and they can maintain credibility as long as they remain true to the music and to themselves. For Jin, this means honing his talent -- he's an accomplished freestyler who excels at battle rapping -- and establishing himself as both a rapper and an Asian rapper.
"Learn Chinese" is just one of the tracks on Jin's long-delayed debut album, "The Rest Is History," that refer to his heritage. In "Here Now," he raps: "Five-six but I stand tall, / Built for war, sort of like the Great Wall of China / Hear my footsteps like Yao Ming's behind ya."
The autobiographical "Love Story" describes parental disapproval of an interracial teen romance. And "Same Cry," maybe his most ambitious track, touches on Tiananmen Square, SARS and China's one-child policy.
"Throughout the album, there's a lot of influence to me being Asian and, you know, that's just because I am Asian," says Jin. "I think that's what hip-hop is all about -- all of the most successful artists have been real adamant about who they are. And that's who I am."
He pauses. "Not to say that's all I am. But it is who I am, so I'll certainly embrace it."
On a sunny fall day, Jin saunters into Elegance Barbershop in Harlem for a haircut. Half a dozen guys are huddled around a chess game; the Fun Gum machine a few feet away plays 14 seconds of synthesized new jack swing every time it dispenses a gumball. He is the only Asian in the shop -- everyone else is African American -- but they greet him like one of their own.
Jin got famous in hip-hop two years ago, when he appeared on the weekly "Freestyle Friday" rhyming battles on BET's hip-hop program "106 & Park." He won seven weeks straight before being retired to the show's Hall of Fame. On Jin's final week, he vanquished his challenger, and then reached into his jacket to pull out a sparkling Ruff Ryders medallion -- a dramatic announcement that he had been signed to Ruff Ryders, the hip-hop label that launched DMX, Jadakiss and Eve.
