What's so funny about peace, love and Brother Ali?

(Credit: Julian Murray)

Brother Ali’s biography doesn’t read like many others, at least on the surface: He’s a Muslim albino raised in the Midwest, inspired from afar by the likes of Chuck D and Rakim. But he’s become a star in the world of indie hip-hop at least in part because of storytelling that’s unusually relatable, even at its most autobiographical.

On his new album, “Us,” the Minneapolis-based rapper steps outside his personal narrative to tell some different stories, revolving around weighty subjects like homophobia and the scars of slavery. “Us” again unites Ali with mastermind producer Ant (of Atmosphere, Ali’s labelmates on Twin Cities hip-hop label Rhymesayers), and none other than Chuck D introduces him on the opening track.

Prior to setting off on a jam-packed tour schedule that ventures well off the beaten path (hello, Mankato!), Brother Ali spoke about his unusual roots, the long shadow cast by his ‘80s hip-hop heroes, and the reasons “G.I. Joe” is worse for your kids than 50 Cent.

You were born in Madison, Wis., and grew up in the Midwest. How did your geographical fate shape you as a hip-hop artist?
I think it shaped me a lot. Being in the Midwest, we had to teach ourselves everything about hip-hop. On the West Coast and East Coast, they had the originators and each generation handed it down to the next one. The great producers and great MCs on both coasts were nurtured by a community of official figures. We didn’t have any of that, so first we had to go find the music—which wasn’t always easy to do—and then we had to sit in our basements and try to figure out how they were doing it. That forced us to find our own voice.

Were you ever tempted to head to the bright lights of the big cities?
I thought about it, yeah. There was a time when I thought about moving to New York. I would say that Atmosphere and Rhymesayers had a lot to do with me realizing that wasn’t necessary—that the thing to do was appreciate where you’re from, plant roots, and build your environment. And you take the risk that people will probably never, ever hear it.

A lot of the press about you tends to mention the “golden era” of hip-hop and the influence that era had on you. Do you think that’s fair to hip-hop to talk about the golden era as a bygone era?
That’s a good point. I think there are a lot of golden eras. I think hip-hop just grew into so many areas and so many particular tastes that the average rap fan isn’t able to appreciate all of it anymore. At the same time, hip-hop took over the airwaves. So if you’re not a fan of that particular hip-hop, then you’re mad and you feel like the best days of rap are behind us. I don’t think that’s necessarily true. It will never be a contained community like it used to be, but is there still greatness in all these different areas? Yeah. And I still enjoy all of it. I’m really happy that Jay-Z just gave me a new album to listen to; I can’t wait until Aesop Rock gives me a new album to listen to. I hope T.I. comes out of prison with more to say. I still love all of rap. I’m a huge fan of Little Brother, Joell Ortiz, Lil Wayne, everything.

You drop a funny reference to the Berenstain Bears on “Fresh Air.” Were you a fan as a kid?
I really wasn’t, but my wife was. When she moved to Minnesota, she was like “This is the Berenstain Bears book collection—and this is part of our lifestyle.” So we read ‘em to our kids, and when we had the baby and it was a girl, I was like “Oh, man, we’re the Berenstain Bears—we’ve got the mama, papa, brother, sister, the house.” It kind of doesn’t feel real. It feels like something out of a storybook.

I was big into Curious George and the Mr. Men books. But the Berenstain Bears were in the mix, too.
Have you seen the previews for “Where the Wild Things Are”? That looks amazing. I think that’s going to be so beautiful. I just took my son to see “G.I. Joe,” so I need to see that movie really bad.

Not a fan of “G.I. Joe”?
It was terrible. And it’s like, OK, we’re mad at these rappers for glorifying violence. Most of my friends are a few years older than me, so my son is nine, but their kids are like 18. Out of all the 18-year-old kids I know, every single one of them—especially people of color—is either in the military, about to join the military or seriously considering it. I don’t think these kids are hearing 50 Cent and wanting to go out and shoot somebody. But to make the military the only viable option for a person to have a career, and then have a movie where you strap on a chute that makes you jump high and run fast and kill all the bad guys—I think there’s something way more criminal about that than any gangsta rap lyric.