In the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic and the protests that followed the death of George Floyd, a wave of sexual misconduct accusations have flooded the Twin Cities local music scene through social media.
It started with women calling out several members of the hip-hop scene, but it quickly snowballed with accusations leveled at musicians in multiple genres, managers, DJs, nightclub staff and owners, photographers, prominent fans and even, according to reporting by MPR News, an on-air host at its own 89.3 The Current.
So far, the most prominent public response has come from Rhymesayers, the Minneapolis hip-hop record label known for its annual Soundset Festival, which drew as many as 35,000 fans to the Minnesota State Fair Midway each Memorial Day weekend. (In January, Rhymesayers announced it was putting Soundset on hold this summer and was planning instead to focus on celebrating the label’s 25th anniversary later this year.)
Last week, Rhymesayers dropped two of its local artists, Prof (Jake Anderson) and Dem Atlas (Joshua Turner). In a lengthy social media post, the label said, “abuse of women is not acceptable and is not in alignment with our values … to abusers, racists and those engaged in predatory behavior, we don’t want you as artists, fans or affiliates and as we become aware of you, you will be held accountable.”
The move came one day before Rhymesayers was set to give Prof’s album “Powderhorn Suites” a nationwide release. While Rhymesayers didn’t specifically address it, several women had accused a former DJ of Prof’s of abuse, which led to the wider accusations.
Prof responded with a pair of social media posts. The first apologized for his DJ, who he said he fired in 2016 “because he wasn’t performing at his job and I didn’t enjoy his company. … I truly didn’t know the depths of the manipulation and abuse.”
The rapper went on to say his own “shock-jock persona” was an act to get him attention but that “looking back, my garbage attempts at building an edgy persona and making dark comedy that pushed boundaries were brutal and at minimum very hurtful to women, especially survivors.”
It’s unclear what, if any, further public action will take place regarding the more than a dozen other men accused of sexual misconduct, although a handful of those men have posted statements online addressing their own behavior or apologizing for turning a blind eye to the actions of a friend or colleague.
Rapper P.O.S. (Stefon Alexander), who is known for his work with Doomtree and as a solo act, appeared to do both in a statement: “I’ve definitely missed many opportunities to lift women, been a shamefully bad partner at times. And have been guilty. Of lying, cheating, and gaslighting lies to cover it up. That stuff can also cause real pain and lasting damage.”
I initially attempted to cover this as a news story and I contacted a series of local women for interviews, both directly and through sympathetic second parties. Most declined, some didn’t respond at all.
Last week, I spoke to one woman willing to go on the record. Over the course of nearly an hour, she detailed the abusive relationship with a man she thought was her friend and how difficult it was to share her story publicly. She said after she posted her accusations, about 50 other women contacted her with similar stories. She also talked about the many open secrets about abusive men in the scene.
Some 20 minutes after we spoke, she contacted me and asked not to use her name. She had learned her alleged abuser, who she thought she had cut off all contact with, had just been trying to talk to several of her friends. She was, she said, scared.
Amber L. Carter, a Minneapolis author, knows how she feels.
“It’s terrifying,” Carter said of publicly accusing someone of sexual misconduct. “There’s a sense of knowing you’re doing the right thing, but it (also makes you) incredibly anxious. Especially as a woman speaking out, there’s definitely a fear for your own safety and fear that people aren’t going to believe you and find your words to be not credible.”
Last week, Carter posted on Twitter about a once-prominent local fan who often referred to himself as a “tastemaker.” Carter did not accuse him of sexually abusing her, but said she stood up for him when other women accused him. She wrote that he was someone “I knew had used and abused friends, and who had also used and abused me and my friendship. … Believe the stories. They are all true.”
In an interview, Carter said the Twin Cities music scene is a tight-knit group.
“It’s such a small community and everybody knows each other,” she said. “That fosters a lot of power given to very particular people.” Newcomers, she added, can feel overwhelmed and intimidated by those with power and influence. And even though stories of abusive men have circulated for years, many women have kept quiet out of fear of being banished from the scene altogether.
What has changed? Why now? Carter pointed to the current uncertainty and unrest of life in general.
“People are just not giving a s— anymore,” she said. “With everything that’s going on, people are energized for change and feel more empowered about speaking out. They want to call out people in positions of power who abuse that power.”
So what happens next?
“That’s the million-dollar question,” Carter said. “I’ve seen some apologies and I think they’re bulls—, frankly. There’s been a wave of men saying ‘Whoops, I thought I could do this but I got caught and now I’m going to go away for a while.’ I think we need to deliver actual, tangible consequences.
“People who are being hit with credible allegations need to be absolutely honest and forthright. They need to say how they intend to make up for it. I want to see legit, actual apologies and contrition. And I want people to stop supporting these people and stop supporting their work. I want to see actions toward change.”