Biz Markie was the “essence of hip-hop”: Hailing the rapper who made us laugh as hip-hop turns 50

Biz Markie was hyper-animated, hilarious and larger than life. The late rapper was the best at injecting fun into his rhymes, in a way that helped me and a whole generation of young people fall in love with hip-hop culture – namely with his 1989 breakout mega hit “Just a Friend.”

“All Up in the Biz,” a new documentary from director Sacha Jenkins, covers every facet of Biz Markie’s life from being raised in foster care, to his ability to befriend anybody and how hip-hop changed his life. Jenkins also collects narratives from a wide range of Markie’s family members and hip-hop legends like Rakim, who share personal stories about hanging with Biz, the way he loved to joke and how he amassed a fascinating collection of toys and gadgets.

“All Up in the Biz” premieres on Showtime and Paramount+ on Aug. 11, the day hip-hop officially turns 50. But, Jenkins shared with me on “Salon Talks,” “Hip-hop is way older than 50 years old.” “It’s not just two turntables and a microphone. Hip-hop at the end of the day is people.” If he had to put an age on hip-hop’s existence, Jenkins says he’d classify it as “thousands.”

Watch the “Salon Talks” episode with Sacha Jenkins here or read a Q&A of our conversation below to learn more about the life of Biz, his contributions to hip-hop and what makes any music legend worthy of the documentary treatment.

The following conversation has been lightly edited for length and clarity.

I discovered Biz Markie when I was a young kid. I was born in the early ’80s, and it was something called “Jukebox Television,” where you had to pay a dollar and you get like three videos. That’s how he came across my radar in my tiny section of East Baltimore. What was your first encounter with Biz Markie?

Growing up in Queens, in Astoria, our cousins were in Queensbridge. Queensbridge was a hotbed of musicians and rappers. The Juice Crew, basically their headquarters was Queensbridge, so listening to Marley Marl’s “Mix Show,” I first heard Biz on that show. 

One of my favorite songs was “Nobody Beats the Biz.” I have very fond memories because it samples the Steve Miller Band and back in the ’70s, hip-hop-like DJs played a little of everything. You could like a little bit of rock and roll, you can like disco, you can like whatever. It was a combination of hearing the Steve Miller Band in the hip-hop song in a way that just brought me back to my youth. At that moment in time just made me feel like I was connected to something that was bigger than me.

Thinking about it in a historical context, hip-hop is embedded in everything that we do from creative writing to filmmaking. How would you introduce Biz Markie, his contributions and his body of work, to people who are new to the genre of music, young listeners, people who are still in elementary school, just finding their way? 

When you see the film and you see what an influence he was on such important MCs like Big Daddy Kane and Rakim — I mean, Rakim wept at the memory of his friend — when you think about who those guys are and you think about Biz, I mean, those two guys, Kane and Rakim are very serious, well-respected lyricists, and Biz was this guy who he had jokes, he was funny. He didn’t take himself seriously. You wouldn’t think that this guy who had so much humor [and] had a song called “Picking Boogers” would be such a profound influence on two very important voices, foundational voices, like Rakim and Big Daddy Kane. I think to see, to understand Biz Markie is to understand what the essence of hip-hop is. 

What I’ve come to understand is that, yes, this year is the 50th anniversary of hip-hop, but hip-hop is way older than that. If you think hip-hop is 50 years old, you’re smoking crack in 2023. I did a film about Rick James. I did a film about Louis Armstrong, same guys, same language, same environment. It’s the same thing. You’re going to tell me that hip-hop is different from Louis Armstrong growing up in the hood in New Orleans or Rick James growing up in the hood in Buffalo? It’s the same story over and over again. Black music in America is a reflection of and reaction to the environment. So 50 years, get your money, everybody in hip-hop and it’s great. Yes, Kool Herc and lots of other pioneers set this thing off that we understand to be hip-hop, but understand hip-hop is way older than 50 years old.

If you had to put an age on it?

I mean thousands of years. It’s how we speak, it’s how we express ourselves. It’s how we dress, it’s our language. It’s how we react to the environment. It’s how we speak to each other. That’s what hip-hop is. It’s not just two turntables and a microphone. It’s people. Hip-hop at the end of the day is people.

I think Biz Markie deserves a biopic and all of that, and definitely this film that you made. Tell me how the project came about.

When Biz was alive, I met with him. He approached me about doing a doc on his life, and we had a great conversation and we talked about a lot of the things that wound up in this film, but I couldn’t get a deal for it. I couldn’t sell it. Then Mass Appeal wound up having this program called “Hip-Hop 50” where we were producing all of these films for Showtime, specifically ramping up to the 50th anniversary of hip-hop. I approached them again with the project and said, “Hey, this would be a great project for the Hip-Hop 50,” and that’s how it happened.

What did you learn about Biz while working on the film?

He knew who he was. I think I know who I am, but I mean, it took me some years. He knew at a young age who he was, and he embraced it. He was different from everyone else. People made fun of him. He embraced that and made that his armor, his personality. He made you laugh, but not laugh at him, laugh with him. The power of hip-hop. 

Eminem does the same thing. A lot of rappers use their pain from their youth or whatever, turn it around on its head to become a shield. To know who you are at that age, at such a young age, that’s why he became who he became. That’s something I think is universal. Everyone should want to know who they are and be confident in who they are, and that confidence made him who he became.

I didn’t know he was such a collector of toys and games and all kinds of interesting objects.

It started once he got money because, as his wife would say, he was sort of making up for all the things that he didn’t have as a kid. I think once he started having money and traveling, you’re in Arizona and you see an Evel Knievel action figure at a thrift store, you’re going to buy it. Once he started traveling and coming into money is when he officially became a collector.

What else did you learn?

He was the essence of hip-hop in terms of being open to so many different things and traveling. When he traveled back then there weren’t cell phones or beepers or anything. For him to be a guy from Long Island who traveled from way out in Long Island to be in the Bronx, be in Queens, be in Brooklyn, and to be known to make a name for yourself, he built his own celebrity in the way that people use social media today. There was no social media. He was the platform. And so he made that platform work in ways that were phenomenal and way ahead of his time.

It’s always interesting to me that when we do these lists of top rappers, his name doesn’t come up, even felt like Rakim’s name. I felt like their names don’t come up enough.

Right. I did a book called “The Book of Rap Lists,” where there’s lots of lists in there. Yes, it is subjective, but I mean, these days, do people really care about lists? It’s really just whoever’s making the list, them broadcasting or transmitting who they think is the greatest. But I mean, do these kids really care about who’s the greatest?

I know around my family, we fight. We fight about this. I damage relationships.

I hear you. I think at the end of the day though, hip-hop is people, as weird as it sounds. It’s a culture. So it’s like, is there one thing in your culture that’s better than something else? Well, no. Everyone is contributing to that culture. You know what I mean? You could be really whack like a mumbo rapper now, or you could be Rakim. Everyone’s making a contribution at some point.

You ever felt like hip-hop has become so big, that it should be kicked back to the founders and the pioneers? 

It’s the old story of the blues and jazz and everything else. We are masters of language and art and style, but when it comes to the business that’s run by others, sometimes we get taken advantage of. My hope is you look at a guy like Jay-Z, who’s more successful than anybody, he’s a great example, and hopefully there’ll be more people like him who can lead the way in terms of doing good business. I think Nas is someone who I know who has come a long way, who has great representation and does good business.It’s evolving, but there’s always going to be people who are going to be exploited, unfortunately. It feels like these days, artists have more control over their art and their commerce. Hopefully more people are taking advantage of that.

The world was shocked when Biz Markie passed. It just wasn’t expected. But then I think about DMX and muMs the Poet and then Coolio and Shock G, and it makes you just pull back. For me, I’m looking at different health issues with people in my family, it makes me think about my own mortality. Should we be having a bigger conversation about this?

Yeah, I think people in general, Black people specifically, should be having more conversations around health and mortality and lots of other things that are being discussed directly and indirectly in the music. That’s what’s powerful about the music. A kid could be from the Bronx and a mumble rapper or whatever, a drill rapper and rapping about hyper-materialism, but he’s doing that because it’s a reflection and reaction to how he feels about himself in America and where he thinks he needs to be to be important. It’s all baked in there, but we have to unpack it and unravel it to have more of these discussions to make some changes.

Greg Tate too, I was like, damn. It’s heavy. You’ve done projects on Wu-Tang, Rick James, Louis Armstrong. What in your eyes makes a music star a legend? And what does that legend need to have to make it a good story for you to feel like telling?

I think they need to be original. I think they need to have challenges in their lives. Most of these people who I’ve had the privilege of making films about have amazing challenges that they overcame. I think those kinds of challenges and personal issues are things that are universal, that go beyond music.

Not everyone is going to be able to be a great rapper, a great guitar player, but the personal stuff that we all go through, when you can unpack that stuff and weave it into the art that they make, it helps you better understand their art by understanding their personal lives. It’s the personal stuff that’s more relatable to most people, so you got to have a compelling backstory.

What’s next for you?

I’m doing a series with Jordan Peele about Black cowboys right now and I also have a film about Ed Sullivan that’s about to drop.

He’s got an interesting backstory that people don’t know. He was an ally. People talk about white people just being woke or whatever, the time in which he was woke and what he did with television and giving Black people a voice on national television when so many people, including advertisers that we all know and love today, did not want Ed Sullivan to put these Black people on TV. He made a contribution in his way, and that’s what the film’s about.

Tell everybody when they can see “All Up In the Biz.”

“All Up In the Biz” is August 11th, which is Hip-hop’s 50th birthday. So happy birthday, hip-hop.

That and the 50,000th.

Well, you know. It’s the 50th, Happy Birthday, Kool Herc and everybody else who was an early contributor who gave us the opportunity to do what we do today. I started out as a writer, a publisher of magazines. I’ve had a way longer career in hip-hop than a lot of rappers. I’m very thankful for what hip-hop has done for me, for sure.