Final thoughts with DJ Lord

Public Enemy DJ relives the grind and the glory

For nearly 20 years, Public Enemy’s DJ Lord has been on a steady grind after outgrowing the music scene of his hometown, Savannah. DJ Lord (born Lord Aswod) moved to Atlanta circa 1996. He landed a job selling shoes at Foot Locker at Lenox Mall and soon after kicked off a musical legacy behind the turntables alongside Chuck D, Flavor Flav, and Professor Griff. In 2013, the group was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame on the heels of releasing its 12th album, The Evil Empire of Everything. Before heading off for a European tour, Lord took an afternoon to reflect on his experiences while carving out his own path as an artist in Atlanta.

I often say that joining Public Enemy was divine intervention. I moved from Savannah to Atlanta around 1996 because I had done everything I could do in Savannah: I used to put out mixtapes that I wrote out by hand! I would buy a 10-pack of CDs and sell ‘em at the mall — that was my thing. I was in groups, I was a DJ at clubs, I spun house and hip-hop, and I hit a brick wall. Atlanta was the next step. I’d go there and spend money at Earwax Records, and there were clubs and people — hip-hop!

People said, “You’ll be back, everybody always comes back.” I said “No, I’m not!” I rented a Dodge Neon, packed it with whatever fit, which was pretty much my turntables, record crates, and speakers, and I hauled ass to Atlanta. I got a job at Foot Locker at Lenox Mall. Then I started working at RadioShack. After my shift there, like Clark Kent, I would pull my jersey out of my backpack and run to Foot Locker.

I got into some corporate jobs later — AT&T, MCI, Crawford & Company. But those retail years were epic times, man! Straight, raw, grinding times. I lived in a house with a few guys who were also pursuing music. DJs, MCs, singers. We had a house on Glenwood Avenue in Decatur where eight of us lived — one of the guys had a whole family in that house. It was rough.

There was a studio in the basement and one day I come home and it’s frickin’ flooded! I screamed, “My records, oh, my God!” Then they were all stuck together when they dried up.

Rock Most, who DJs around town, was my roommate. He got me to move in and start DJing with his collective, Black Hand Battalion. Rock Most was my link to Public Enemy. He was doing production for Professor Griff, and one day he said to me, “Public Enemy needs a DJ! Terminator X is retiring soon.”

I was doing battles and killing the competition, but nobody knew me. I was just some guy from Savannah, and time and time again when they announced the winner, it was always like DJ John or somebody. But people started noticing.

All of that was going on, and here I am working at RadioShack. I had hit another brick wall. When Rock said that, I thought he was bullshitting me. I’m putting on a tie for work — I’m pissed! “That’s not funny! I’m going to make it, man!” I yelled on my way out the door. I was late for work and I had to go sit on MARTA and just be pissed.

So I come home from work, and I open the door and Griff is just sitting there in my living room. He says, “Are you Lord? We need a DJ. Can you handle it?”

Fast-forward two weeks, they gave me this Instant Replay machine. I had to load it up with Public Enemy songs, learn it, know it, and head to Belgium! They took me to FedEx, expedited my passport, and then we had an impromptu interview were I did some scratching and Chuck is like, “What the — what!” The next thing I know, I’m being pushed onto the stage. In Belgium. No rehearsal. First show. 15,000 people. Festival. I’m star-struck! I’m looking at Flava Flav, and I’m looking at Chuck D, and I’m still a fan, mind you. I was Terminator X at my high school talent show! So I’m there, but I’m not really there. Chuck turns around and says, “DJ Lord, hit me!” Bam. I play the wrong song. Flava’s song comes up. Everyone in the crowd is yelling at me! Flava just patted me on the back and said, “Don’t sweat it, Lord. We’ll get ‘em next time.”

It was like that for a week! I made every mistake I could possibly make, and I was like, “I hate this! I want to go home.”

But one night I had a long talk with myself. I realized that I was trying to be Terminator X. My thinking had been “Who am I to say I’m the new DJ for Public Enemy?” I had fire, but it’s individual fire. But in a group that I grew up on and still idolize? I’m just Terminator X’s replacement — Terminator 2. It was a constant mental beat down of self-doubt. But I said to myself, “This is basic shit. I can do this.” I was so busy trying to be Terminator X that I had dumbed down my shit. I grew up on Terminator scratches. I mastered them. I did them every day for months coming out of high school. But I can do this my own way.

Chuck, Flava, and Griff had been telling me to be myself all along, but I had mentally been kicking my own ass for not trying to do the songs any other way. I asked myself, “Am I gonna leave it with nothing to show other than my little DJ solo, and then back to how this Public Enemy song is supposed to go?” No. It’s go time.

One late night on the tour bus, way out there in Switzerland, Chuck and I were having one of those conversations when everyone else is asleep. He’s telling me Big Daddy Kane stories. Stories about the Beastie Boys trashing hotel rooms, throwing the TV out the window, and cutting a hole in the floor to get to some girls that were in a room below them. During one of those conversations Chuck said, “You’re the DJ. I’m not going back to the old ways. This group is a living, breathing thing. We don’t make records to chase the charts, we make records to see the world, and you bring a breath of fresh air to this group.”

When he said that, it turned me into the Hulk!

When I was still new in the group, we got a bomb threat in Sardinia. I wasn’t ready for that. Public Enemy’s music had enlightened me in so many ways, and I was already conscious. But being a part of the group really opened my up my brain. I didn’t know about actual hate groups and situations like that.

I had just checked into the hotel, I dropped everything and lay down on the bed. Five minutes later, knock knock: “They’re saying now to evacuate the hotel! There’s a bomb in the hotel!” I open the door and there’s a German shepherd and a beeping-device guy yelling at me to get out! So, everybody’s out on the street in towels and robes. I’m shocked, but Chuck says, “Oh, this is nothing. Hey Flava, remember when there was an actual bomb under the stage in ‘86 or ‘87?” And Flava’s like, “Yeah, boy! I remember that!”

What I learned from Public Enemy is that I had to make myself relevant, and to keep my eyes open. It also taught me about longevity, perseverance, brotherhood, and the importance of family. Of course, it taught me consciousness. I thought I knew about being conscious, and I was on my way. My diet was changing, habits were changing, and I had discipline through martial arts. But that’s why I say it’s more like divine intervention. Joining Public Enemy opened up my brain to a lot. I didn’t know about the strange situation around the world that we were walking into. It brought balance and stopped me from going crazy in Atlanta.

This interview has been edited and condensed.