When I first heard about More Or Les, the name sounded oddly familiar. Wasn't there a guy at my high school who used that name? An aspiring rapper, who rhymed at assemblies and performed at the United Way Benefit Concerts that me and my friends used to put together. This would have been like '91, '92. Turns out they're one and the same. Fifteen years later, More Or Les is one of the most accomplished hip-hop artists in the T-dot, who is on track to solving one of the key dilemmas in Canadian rap: in a field that's all about being tough, what do you do when life ain't so rough? Les drops the 'œI'm from the ghetto'? posturing and raps about life in downtown Toronto as we know it, with tracks about busking -- and brunching -- on Queen West, as well as some pointed critiques of the thuggery that has overtaken hip-hop this decade. Similarly, his music brings back the bouncy good-time vibe of early-to-mid-'˜90s hip-hop, without sacrificing any of its underground credentials. This busy emcee has two full-length albums to his credit, 2003's I Only Stop for the Red Ants and this year's The Truth About Rap, and has toured with the UK's The Herbaliser. As a DJ, you can also catch him on the wheels of steel at Toronto's classic hip-hop monthly, Never Forgive Action, and as a writer, in the pages of Coach House Books' new follow-up to uTOpia, The State of the Arts: Living With Culture in Toronto. More Or Les performs at the launch for this book on Nov. 26 at the Gladstone, co-presented by Wavelength and This Is Not a Reading Series.

We're both alumni of Woburn Collegiate in Scarborough. I don't know about you, but I hated it at the time. In retrospect, though, our high school produced a lot of creative people '“ Steven Page and Ed Robertson from Barenaked Ladies, Hannah Sung from MuchMusic, the guys from Snowy Owl/Grand Total, DJ/writer Matt Blair, sword dancer Kate McGee, filmmaker Pier van Tijn, visual artist Luis Jacob, emcee Wio-K of hip-hop crew Monolith, Andrew McAllister from Soft Copy, Wavelength's own Smokey Campbell a.k.a. Dave Rodgers from Picnicboy/Ghostlight, and a bunch more I'm sure I've forgotten. Was there something in the water, or was it the car fumes of suburban sprawl?

While I believe car fumes can be harmful, I'm not sure what it exactly was about our high school that it had such a high output of creative people. I think there is something specific about the environment that nurtured all of us artists from Scarborough '” 'œforces of creativity borne from the fires of suburbia.'? For some, it might have been a case of boredom inspiring action; for others, it might have been just a matter of meeting people with similar interests, and those people inspiring each other into action. Maybe the ground itself is a nexus for mystical energies (says the guy currently re-reading his comic collection). It's hard to put it down to just one thing.

Is there any kind of "politics" about being a suburban rapper vs. a downtown rapper in the T-dot?

Definitely. With Toronto being such a vast city geographically, there are several hip-hop scenes spread out, with different vibes to each of them. As a result, a rapper from the Jane & Finch area might find it difficult to relate to what an emcee in Brampton is trying to say. Flemingdon Park rappers may have difficulty feeling what a downtown rapper is doing. And then you have certain people shouting out their area because they want to see it shine more amongst the rest of the city, OR they simply like the rep' that goes along with shouting it out, and may not even be living that reputation they're claiming... so there are definitely some politics involved. As for me: I truly don't care where you're from '” I'm here for anyone who wants to hear dope rhymes, dope cuts and dope-ass beats... and about brunch!

Are you alone in the hip-hop world for your love of brunch?

Possibly, but then I perform the song "Brunch!" at shows, and when I'm finished, I see the reaction in people's faces. The reaction says, "Yeah, I like brunch too, word." People forget '” they just need the reminder that it's cool to love brunch. Don't hold back.

What's the reaction like when you drop songs that are critical of the hip-hop genre, like "Shooting People and Disrespecting Women"?

The reaction from most people is a positive one. At a few shows, "Sucka Word" (a song describing my dislike of and refusal to use the "n-word" and how it plays out in hip-hop) has even instigated further discussion on the topic '” picture me with a Corona in my hand, sitting on the side of a stage discussing the socio-political ramifications of using the "n-word" in everyday language... and trying to sell CDs at the same time! I think it's only natural that people are accepting of the criticism '” with a genre like hip-hop, determined to forever reinvent itself, you're going to get people questioning its status '” constantly '” and I think that's a good thing. In fact, I feel like the general public has slacked off a bit on questioning the quality, integrity and artistry of the music in the past decade.

I noticed your bio is titled "Partying Like it's 1994, since 2003." Is '94 the high water mark year for hip-hop as it is for indie rock (from Jeru the Damaja to Drive Like Jehu)? If there was a Hip-Hop/Indie Rock Summit, what items would be on the day's agenda?

While I do believe that good hip-hop is still being made, '94 for me marks an era of a certain type of style and attitude that came with making the music that doesn't exist anymore. It was a time period in which positivity seemed to be more readily accepted by the buying public as something of interest, there was more visible originality and variety from artist to artist, group to group '” i.e. less duplication, and a wider variety of styles presented commercially. Nowadays, if the competent vocalist with artistry in his heart and originality in his mind really wants to get noticed, he/she has to do battle with a giant company determined to have complete mastery of the market. Once they understand that a large number of people like rap a certain way, they will present as much of that rap as possible (same game, different names) to get those people to buy as much of it as possible.

Items I would like to see on the agenda of a Hip-Hop/Indie-Rock Summit:

1. Make Art and Money aka "Money is not a dirty word" '” we all need it to eat, so why hide from it? A lecture informing rock bands: you can say that you make money and still be cool, rappers: you can actually be cool and still make some money.

2. Underground Rock, Indie Rap '” discussing why the two terms "indie" and "underground" should not be exclusive to either genre.

3. Technology on stage - aka "No one wants to be Pete Townshend anymore" - a debate over the value and artistry of computers on stage, and why no one is willing to smash their Powerbook for an audience.

by Jonny Dovercourt