Bio
Emerg McVay's a one-man verbal blitzkrieg, a black Osama bin Laden piloting
a lyrical 747 right into the core of your cranium. Preconceived notions?
Kick 'em to the curb, yo. Especially if you think that P-town can't blow up
like ATL, the Lou, and Chi-town before it. Just listen to Bionic Jive-ist
McVay's solo CD Slave Music (Post 9/11 Lyricism), and you'll see why a
"Phoenix sound" led by MC McVay's take-no-prisoners beats and imagery could
do to mainstream rap what Timothy McVeigh's Ryder truck did to the Alfred
P. Murrah Federal Building. From jump we know McVay ain't here to play.
First there's the photo of him on the cover in a Klan outfit made from the
American flag. Then the disc itself opens up with McVay's dark, operatic
"Monster Zero," wherein he's "dripping with the enigma of a poet's
bloodstain," sleeping "with genocide as a dream," and no doubt slouching
toward Bethlehem to be born. McVay quickly establishes that "The Game Is
Over" and advises his contemporaries to "Quit Playin'." Then he pops of
