Going Green

Were there to be a British version of 8 mile—Eminem’s part-biopic screen debut—Professor Green would have a narrative to fit the bill. Like so many of his American contemporaries, Green—the alias of Hackney-raised Stephen Paul Manderson—has moved from the crime and drug cultures of an estate-based upbringing to the world of popular music. Like the most famous white rapper of all time he had an often-fractious relationship with his parents, like 50 Cent he nearly died after being violently attacked early in his career, and like Dr Dre he has a soft spot for soft drugs. His name, he laughs, comes from “a keen interest in plants” when he was younger.

Green’s debut album, July's Alive Till I’m Dead, shot into the charts at number two, only held off the top spot by the comeback album from his transatlantic competitor, Eminem. Whilst he may not have reached the same heights as rap superstars of the recent past, his collaboration with Lily Allen ('Just be good to Green') and sampling of INXS’s 'Need You Tonight' have given him an appeal that transcends the "cliquey" boundaries of London’s underground rap scene. It’s a welcome transition.

“I don’t know if I expected it but I’m definitely happy at the success of the album. I kind of live on the basis of low expectations”, says Green.

In a career kick-started by an impromptu rap battle in London, the 26 year-old has quickly found his feet. Originally signed to The Beats—Mike Skinner of The Streets' record label—he moved to Virgin last summer after the former collapsed. Transferring to Virgin has helped propel his career from a name known on the underground scene to one penetrating the charts.

Despite the inevitable changes that come with success, the Londoner is keen to retain what led to his being noticed in the first place – namely, a desire and an ability to speak his mind. He talks honestly, denouncing the “faceless” music he believes that many of his contemporaries are producing, while lauding Lily Allen for her say-it-as-it-is persona. People, he believes, are too PC, and he readily dismisses those who have criticised his assimilation into popular culture.

“They always talk under their breath – they’re just a bunch of muppets. There’s so much stigma attached to being an underground rapper. It’s a cliquey scene and I never really liked it and was always very open about that.

“I think I’ve progressed a little, but even in the poppier songs like 'I Need You Tonight' I don’t compromise on the bars. I’m still rapping, there are still those elements of the real stuff in there.”

“I’m still making the music I was. The only thing that’s changed is I’m doing a little bit better for myself. So that’s clearly where their problem lies, not with the music.”

Green’s increasingly jet-set lifestyle (we’re speaking just after his return from Italy) is a long way from his upbringing. Raised in Upper Clapton by his grandmother after his teenage parents split up, Green says he was exposed to things he shouldn’t have been at an early age. On first name terms with the local police, it was the sort of hip-hop childhood that has become a familiar story for rap artists, and one he says he wouldn’t change.

“Your social conditions dictate who you are. Everything I’ve gone through has affected me in some way, be it good or bad. It’s all added up to make me the person I am. I think it’s played a huge part in my career.”

Some of what he has gone through, though, nearly killed him. Two months before signing to Virgin, Green was stabbed in the neck on a night out. The broken bottle missed his carotid artery by millimetres. The wound is still visible, partly covered by an apt tattoo that reads "Lucky". It was an assault that led Green to re-evaluate his life.

“I like to approach my feelings. I don’t like to just suffer them. I had to back off a little bit and take time to get my head straight.”

While it has been music—along with his occasional flirtations with pop star Pixie Lott—that has kept him in the public view, there is a more sinister side to the attention that comes with his background. His dad committed suicide two years ago and his widow criticised Green in the press last month for "exploiting" his father’s death to publicise his album. When I asked him about these reports, he was audibly moved.

“I read it and laughed. I didn’t have a great relationship with him growing up because he was in and out of my life but what I did say was that he was always the parent I looked up to and how much it fucking killed me when he died.

“The only thing she can do is try and bring me down and good luck to her because she doesn’t stand a fucking chance in hell.”

Though unwavering in attacking his critics, Green isn’t the cocky lad that comes across in his two hit singles. He admits to being far from perfect and is modest about his increasing success. His gig at the Liquid Room looks set to be one of his last in a comparatively intimate venue. He’s not yet reached the level of rap’s American megastars, but catch him while you can.