HIP-HOP Don't just look at Eminem, D12's other five members say

The six joined forces in the mid-'90s to rise in the Detroit hip-hop scene.
By BRIAN McCOLLUM
KNIGHT RIDDER NEWSPAPERS
DETROIT -- D12 is enjoying its second No. 1 album. The group has toured the world, played arenas and stadiums and MTV, stayed in posh hotels where sleep is impossible because fans stand outside screaming all night.
So how can a bunch of hip-hop stars still seem so ... anonymous?
Even in Detroit, home to the six-man outfit, many fans would be hard-pressed to name every member of the group, which is celebrating its second album, "D12 World," released last Tuesday to huge sales. Except for the man who usually gets all the attention -- Eminem.
"A lot of people thought there wasn't going to be another D12 album," rapper Kon Artis said. "This is a slap in the face."
It's a strange and awkward paradox for the hip-hop sextet as it embarks on its latest venture. Already the record's hit single, "My Band," has made its emphatic declaration: Hey -- there are six of us here! Six of them: Eminem, Proof, Bizarre, Kon Artis, Kuniva, Swift.
But it's that first name that grabs eyeballs, and "My Band" is a self-deprecating jab at Eminem's overwhelming status. "Our mikes are screwed up and his always sound best," Kon Artis rapped.
"People are always thinking of us as 'Marshall's boys,'" Bizarre said. "So we thought we'd poke at it."
At issue
Look, there's no getting around it: When one of the guys in your group is one of the world's biggest music stars, it's inevitable how this deal is going to work.
People are going to focus on that guy. They're going to pound you with questions about him. At some point, as much as you like him -- he's been a friend for years -- you're bound to get a little peeved. Because you know this isn't about that one guy; this is about the team. And you don't feel like rattling on -- yet again -- about him, when there are so many interesting things to say about yourself.
But if you're in D12, you also realize that without Eminem -- and the inescapable celebrity mania that accompanies his career -- you wouldn't be getting this opportunity in the first place.
You even have to talk about Eminem just to talk about how you don't want to talk about him.
"The more you ask about him, the more you're missing about me," Kon Artis said. "Everybody in D12 knows that. The thing that annoys us most is the people who come to an interview and start asking, 'So, what's up with Eminem? Is he nice; is he cool?' We'll ask, 'Did you listen to our last album?' When they say no, we tell 'em to beat it."
Heavy competition
D12's members will tell you, insistently, that they always believed in their talents. And no doubt the confidence was genuine. But you can't escape the fact that without a fortunate stroke of lightning -- an Eminem cassette that slipped into the hands of an Interscope intern -- these fellas might well be experiencing fame the way the rest of the world does: channel-surfing MTV and BET after a long day at work.
"Crabs in a bucket" -- that's always been Eminem's favorite metaphor to describe those old days. Rappers crawling on top of each other, pushing each other down as they tried to break for the top. What separated D12 was the sense of loyalty; somewhere along the way, somebody realized that linking claws could help push everybody up and out.
D12 is often characterized as an Eminem side project, but the reality is that the group was born in the mid-1990s, the brainchild of Proof, the city's freestyle champion and the man whom every D12 member calls the group's "big brother."
"They wanted to make a supergroup of the best MCs in Detroit," Kuniva said.
Album review
"D12 World" is a decidedly better record than 2001's "Devil's Night." It's got a punch, a self-assuredness, missing from that first work. It's also a more democratic effort -- less an Eminem-piloted project than a group showcase.
"We got to marinate for a good two years. It's the old traditional way of putting a hip-hop album together," Proof said. "You've got your club songs, your street songs, a little bit of everything. The crazy part is, we did the album in, like, three weeks."
The record reveals definite growth, experience gleaned from three years of watching up close as Eminem honed his own studio skills.
"Marshall, he always had the luxury of being in the studio with Dr. Dre, Snoop, all those great cats," Bizarre said. "The first album, we were babies in the game. Now we've been on seven or eight tours, and we've learned from Marshall all the little tricks. We stepped up our game."