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- Death Row : Catalysing Chemicals – Suge and Tupac | Features | Clash Magazine
It was full of the new world I inhabited now: the music industry and black culture and less in-depth stuff on graffiti, the poetry and articles on real social issues.
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I felt it had lost its objectivity. I needed a release working up at Death Row. I just wanted to push the door of every opportunity because, coming from England, I knew how rare they come.
However, by late summer , Suge was getting worried for me. Once there, we sat around a long dark table. Norris and Jake orchestrated it so that I was sitting directly opposite Suge with less than two feet of table between us. After some general opening statement about loyalty and the street team not pulling their weight, he suddenly diverted his attention, or rather his steely face, at me.
I was completely unprepared. You are using Death Row for your own purposes. What is that saying about Death Row? Or Jake? This was the first time Suge had ever been anything but sweet to me. I had never seen him so angry - and it was at me! Yet he continued to rant at me and no one was sticking up for me. Sylvia started speaking up. Suddenly I saw Suge. I really saw him and he saw me and I was glad. For the first time, I felt known yet I felt bad because I saw a sadness in him.
I was so upset to see how seriously grieved he was, I started to cry which made me feel even more of a fool. I felt so relieved to finally be recognised. Norris put his arms round me, Sylvia started rummaging in her bag for a hankie but Suge pushed them all away. Too smart. I am no groupie! You have no right. You asked me to do that job.
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You wanted me to do it well. You can ask anyone here. Suge shook his head. You have a groupie mentality.
The artists work for me, you work for me. The staff were visibly trembling because I would argue back. Tears were rolling down my cheeks. All you staff are to blame because you patronise her and feel sorry for her. Because she could bring this company down. Regardless of how heated our rows got and they got worse , he always, always let me have my say, always listened respectfully, never interrupted til I had explained myself.
He would always publically ask for my explanation of events. Stop treating her like one. It was quite a surreal moment. Roy shook his head, a wry smile on his lips. My new orders were now to pass all my scripts on to Jake or Roy for Suge to look at, not to hang out with artists and to start looking over scripts for Death Row to produce. I also had to get my script back off DJ Pooh and co. I paid them the money and got my script back.
Norris gave me a massive sack full of movie scripts to read and make comment on. For what? What had I done wrong? I passed on it. I had a lot of scripts to read. I guess I really had a very full and varied job. But I was very unhappy. There seemed to be a lot of secrecy going on all of a sudden and I was lonely. I was now the only girl left up at the office and the days seemed very long and hard.
A computer system was put in place, at long last, in August and I had to start keeping a purchase order system that was onerous. Every other phone call resulted in a purchase order and I know for a fact very few of them ever got paid. I could see things were getting crazily out of hand. Norris was drinking Gaviscon non-stop and he and Roy were always in these private conferences with Suge, while I was shut out, with my script reading or purchase order typing and filing. I also felt hurt because I never understood why Norris, Roy, Kevin Black, Hen or Jake never stood up for me in the rows, even though they knew the truth as well as I, they knew what had really happened.
I was always having arguments with Suge or supposedly upsetting him. Legally, I could only work at Death Row. Lots of times I threatened to leave but the logistics of an alternative kept me up there.
The seeds of distrust had already been planted. I thought nothing of it; we were always clowning about down there so I did one of my skits in a high pitched Cockney accent.
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It was based on the London and Kent girls I used to go to raves with whose mission was to get the baddest, blackest gangster, the one with the most gold and worst criminal record, regardless of his personality or other credentials. I reckoned they would go berserk if an L. Oh my goodness. Girl, listen, I have just touched a blardy real live gangster. Girl, he was the spitting image of Snoop Dawgy Dawg.
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I nearly died with joy. Hey, hey get this. You know what that means! Yup, he fancies me…wants to get with me.
Death Row : Catalysing Chemicals – Suge and Tupac | Features | Clash Magazine
Alright, girl, speak to you later. Thanks, Nina! Five minutes later, Norris Anderson was on the phone to Suge. It was up at the office and I was well and truly roasted for thirty five minutes.