
By Michelle Woo Photograph by Eric Sueyoshi
The camera rolls as Kev Nish, standing behind a kitchen table piled with raw vegetables, lifts up a plate lined with hot dogs.
“I got a special ingredient for you guys,” he announces, suggestively showcasing the thawed franks. “All my ladies, you know what these are.”
As hosts of the live online cooking show “Eating FM,” he, J-Splif and DJ Virman exchange banter on topics such as “stank-ass breath,” popping cherry tomatoes and Michael Vick, all while tossing together the evening’s culinary creation: an Asian-inspired salad.
Wearing a purple varsity jacket and a cap tilted sideways, Kev Nish speaks to the viewers at home: “We’re just here having a good time — not washing our hands, picking our noses, touching the food. Oh yeah, we gotta make the dressing.”
Gone are the days when all music artists had to do was make music. Just ask Far*East Movement, a Los Angeles hip-hop group made up of emcees Kev Nish (Kevin Nishimura), Prohgress (James Roh), J-Splif (Jae Choung) and DJ Virman. With filming taking place at manager Carl Choi’s condo, the low-budget Internet production is one of many marketing avenues these talented 20-somethings are taking to invade a music genre that rarely sees faces like theirs.
It seems their efforts are paying off. This fall, their single “You’ve Got A Friend,” featuring artists Baby Bash and Lil Rob, cracked the listener-voted “Top 8@8” countdown on L.A. megastation Power 106 and now sits alongside hits by hip-hop kings such as Akon, Kanye West and Jay-Z. While the chefs ham it up for the camera, Carl, sitting with a laptop just a few feet from the scene, types the words “GO VOTE! GO VOTE! GO VOTE!” into the show’s live chat room, reminding fans to keep the song on the airwaves through online and text message votes.
A D.I.Y. mentality has been a steady component for a few guys who used to practice by downloading beats off of Napster and rapping into a computer microphone.
Influenced by artists like N.W.A. and Tupac, Kevin, James and Jae, three childhood friends fresh out of high school, would meet up at each other’s houses and take turns spitting out lyrics.
“For me, it was like therapy,” says James. “I would listen to a beat, and I could just flow it off and just speak about my struggles.”
Their pastime grew into a passion as they began performing in parking lots for anyone who would listen. They called themselves eMCees Anonymous.
But for the Asian American artists (Kevin is Chinese and Japanese, James and Jae are Korean), the name never felt right.
“We had this big complex,” says Kevin. “We were, like, people can’t know we’re Asian because the second they know, they’re gonna hate us. But then we were, like, eMCees Anonymous is weak sauce. It was like, we can’t own up to who we are? So we were, like, f-ck that.”
One song they had written was called “Far-East Movement,” which was about their wish for more Asian representation in the media. The name stuck.
Soon, Far*East Movement began building ground in L.A.’s underground music scene, performing regularly at Atlas Supper Club (now called Opus) in Koreatown. In 2003, they brought together several local hip-hop artists for a charity show called “Movementality.” Impressed by their set, Carl, a prominent event promoter, approached the trio later that night.
“They were serious,” says Carl, who had worked with Chinese American freestyle champ Jin. “That’s what made them different from other Asian artists I’ve met. They were willing to put everything on the line.”
Carl signed on as the group’s manager and from then on, Far*East Movement was performing at small shows across the country. But in a scene where Asian emcees were an anomaly, the group faced endless challenges. Audience members would ask, “Are you guys gonna rap in Chinese or something?”
“People used to laugh,” says James, who was in his first year of law school. “Oh, we got booed off the stage many, many times.”
They got slack from Asian Americans as well.
“If you weren’t rapping about Asian issues, critics would be, like, why aren’t you representing?” Kevin says. “I didn’t want to make music about stuff that Asians were constantly b-tching about. I just wanted to make the same type of music that Nelly makes — music about real life.”
Eventually, the artists carved their own niche. Their songs adopted a take-it-or-leave-it attitude, with lyrics like: “A big shout-out to the haters … They don’t understand … Who the hell is you to tell me what I can’t do?” Carl plastered the tunes on the Internet, hooking listeners through MySpace and Xanga. Fans, whom they refer to as “the fam,” devoured the sounds, which have been compared to those of Gnarls Barkley, the Black Eyed Peas and Michael Jackson.
In 2005, Far*East Movement released its first mixtape, “AudioBio,” distributing more than 20,000 copies independently. That summer, the trio embarked on its first world tour, performing in cities such as Houston, San Francisco, Hong Kong, Shanghai and Singapore. In 2006, they released their debut album, “Folk Music,” which dabbles in disco and hard rock. Their music has been featured everywhere from films (“The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift”) to TV shows (“CSI”) to video games (“Tony Hawk”). They’ve collaborated with artists such as Jin and Jon B. Last year, the group added DJ Virman of Power 106, who helped them get on the famed countdown.
Jae says he’s beginning to feel a stronger sense of respect in a once closed-off industry: “People used to say, ‘Asian cats? No way.’ But now, it’s more like, ‘Oh, I never knew.’”
Today, the boys of Far*East Movement, often known in the hip-hop circuit simply as FM, keep busy with shows, appearances at local events and the launch of their sophomore album, “Animal,” which will be released next year. Their goal is to land a major record deal and eventually build their own music production company.
Still, Kevin swears that they’re just “plain old dudes.”
“It’s been such a slow and steady process,” he says. “This is how we make a living. We’re the most everyday people you’ll ever meet.”
Somehow, as he takes a bite of his salad creation, that isn’t so hard to believe.
“We had this big complex.
We were, like, people can’t know we’re Asian because the second they know,
they’re gonna hate us.
But then it was like, we can’t own up to who we are?
F-ck that.”