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Rhapsodies of repressed rage
L.B. rapper praCh spits out lyrics of Khmer Rouge's haunting atrocities.
By Chad Greene Press-Telegram Staff writer
Photo : Steven Georges / Press-Telegram
Article Published: Saturday, July 24, 2004 - 5:42:35 PM PST
LONG BEACH .
"Right now, I have a lot on my plate not just the rice itself,' chuckled Cambodian-American rapper praCh, as he dug into a heaping helping of Sophy's Special Fried Rice on the Anaheim Street restaurant's tree-shaded patio.
That's an understatement. Already no stranger to the shelves of record stores he's sold about 80,000 copies of his independently released sophomore CD, "Dalama: the lost chapter' the Long Beach resident's lyrics are now hitting the shelves of libraries and bookstores, as well.
"In the Shadow of Angkor: Contemporary Writing from Cambodia,' a book-length issue of the literary journal MANOA marking the 25th anniversary of the end of the Khmer Rouge regime, includes the lyrics from three of praCh's gritty tales of Cambodians struggling to survive the horrors of the Killing Fields and the dangers of the streets of Long Beach.
While the majority of the collection is made up of essays, fiction and poetry by revered masters of Cambodian literature, the editors of "In the Shadow of Angkor' said their only reservation about including praCh's rap lyrics was if they could do them justice.
"He's a genius. To use his rap lyrics to tell the stories of the immigrants...I don't know of anyone else who's doing what he's doing,' said editor Frank Stewart.
" there's a gap in our generations, between the adults and kids. but since i'm bilingual, i'ma use communication as a bridge. first i'ma knock down the walls, between me and my parents, listen to their stories an' all without interference. "
praCh, "art of faCt'
"Unfortunately, our children don't often have a full picture of what their grandparents and parents went through from the Killing Fields to Long Beach,' said Bryant Ben, a 48-year-old Long Beach resident who said his 9- year-old son, Patrick, is also a big fan of praCh's music. "Through praCh's lyrics, they can at least start to see that picture.'
Part of the reason that picture is often sketchy at best is that 80 percent to 90 percent of the artists in Cambodia were killed during Pol Pot's genocidal attempt to transform the country to an agrarian Maoist utopia. Any intellectual who might pollute people's minds with visions contrary to Pot's was deemed a threat, said Sharon May, guest editor of "In the Shadows of Angkor.'
Even those who escaped to the United States are often reluctant to talk about the atrocities of the Killing Fields.
"I think that part of it is that they're afraid to pass on their sorrow,' May said. "praCh is one of these artists that has opened a conversation.'
That conversation began in earnest when praCh's parents sent him to live with his older brother in Florida after he was arrested for riding in a stolen car at the age of 16. Born in 1979, praCh is too young to remember the Khmer Rouge regime, but his brother had been a teenager at the time.
His brother's harrowing tales of sneaking out of camps at night to find food for their starving mother and sisters, of seeing executed prisoners dumped into mass graves, sent praCh into the creative rage that spawned his first CD, "Dalama: the end'n' is just the beginnin'.'
He continued gathering material when he returned to Long Beach, coaxing relatives and friends to share their stories.
"Everyone you see now, they're living documents. We don't even need a museum, you can just go up and ask,' said praCh, now 25.
By translating older immigrants tales into English and putting them into a streetwise rap vernacular, praCh makes their experiences easier for younger Cambodian Americans to understand.
"Students just really enjoy hearing praCh's lyrics, hearing about things that happened in the past,' said 24-year-old Thearith Cheng, who booked praCh to perform at a Cambodian culture show at the Carpenter Center in April. "Often, these are things they can't read about in their history books.'
But because he sometimes also raps in Khmer or over traditional Cambodian music, his songs also appeal to an older audience.
"I like him very much,' said 61- year-old Soth Polin, whose writing is also included in "In the Shadow of Angkor.' "I think praCh is very talented.'
That's high praise, indeed. Polin was one of the foremost writers in Cambodia before he was forced to flee the country in 1974. Because very little of his work is available in English, he now lives in relative obscurity in Cypress, making a living as a taxi driver.
" realize we survive the genocide, and still together. thvay bongkum (lok yey-lok ta) and praise to Buddha. cuz from that point on, "it can only get BETTER!'
praCh, "welcome'
"Just pay attention to the lyrics and what's behind it that's all I ask for,' praCh said.
Plenty of people are paying attention, including filmmakers Spencer Nakasako and Mike Siv, who are making a documentary about praCh's music for PBS. They'll be among the honored guests this Saturday when praCh marries fiance Chanda Chhim.
Although that would be more than enough to fill most people's plates, praCh is also working on his third album, "Dalama: memoirs of the invisible war,' which he vows will be his last independent release. He's also producing "2nd Language,' the debut album of Seattle-based rapper Silong Chhun, slated for a September release on praCh's Mujestic Records label.
On the Net
"In the Shadow of Angkor: Contemporary Writing from Cambodia http://manoajournal.hawaii.edu/
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