Probably your favourite rapper’s favourite rapper, Daniel Dumile has had many aliases and alter egos in his career as an MC and producer. Zev Love X (with KMD), MF DOOM, Metal Face, Metal Fingers, Viktor Vaughn, King Geedorah or just DOOM. Hip-hop has never known anyone like him. An enigmatic figure with a mindblowing and often comedic command of language, DOOM was the monotone master of multisyllabic, internal rhymes and … how many entendres? To get on his overflowing stream of consciousness, a relentless train of thought, is to have a wildly unpredictable and edifying time whenever you press play. A hive mind of books, comics, cartoons and so much more, he was the kind of writer who would reference anything from Benny Hill and Slobodan Milosevic to Eyjafjallajökull and 3,4-methylenedioxymethamphetamine. And you wouldn’t put it past him to do it in the same track. A craftsman who had “more lyrics than the church got ‘Ooh Lords’”, he wanted to write verses so good you’d pass them on like a good book. The way DOOM conjured theatricality and heightened the drama like a screenwriter/director, both on record and in person, was unprecedented. Turning a Gladiator-inspired mask into an emblem of realness and anti-heroism. A rebirth as the Supervillain, returning to exact revenge on a fickle industry full of shysters and posers. He created a cast of characters to breathe life into and build a mythology around. Plucking samples anywhere from mushy 80’s RnB to Scooby-Doo and old kaiju films. “Plotting shows like robberies”, keeping fans guessing as to whether he would or would not turn up. Many of them gladly in on the caper, even if it was clear that his DOOM bot lacked a signature potbelly cultivated through many brews and other vices. He was so elusive I had convinced myself I did NOT see him at this 2012 performance with The Robert Glasper Experiment at London’s Roundhouse. They played a beautiful version of my favourite track ‘Rhinestone Cowboy’, which dials up the melancholia and shows DOOM could ride anything. As he later proved with this mellow take on ‘Winter Blues’ accompanied by cello, musical saw and piano. DOOM’s legend quickly spread beyond underground hip-hop circles thanks to an all-time classic collaboration with Madlib, appearances on Cartoon Networks’ Adult Swim, guest spots on records by the likes of Gorillaz and gushing praise from luminaries such as Thom Yorke, Yasiin Bey (fka Mos Def) and Portishead’s Geoff Barrow. But somehow, even in the age of broadband internet, DOOM managed to preserve his mystique. So much so that it took most of us two months to realise the British-born musician of Trinidadian and Zimbabwean heritage had passed away in a Leeds hospital at just 49. December 2020 was a grim enough time already in lockdown. Then word quickly spread on New Year’s Eve that rap’s Metalfaced renegade had gone – on Halloween, would you believe it? Among those stunned and eager to know more was SH Fernando Jr (aka SKIZ), a long-time contributor to The Source, Wordsound founder and author of From The Streets of Shaolin: The Wu-Tang Saga. Amazed that no one had attempted to document Dumile the artist’s life through his discography, particularly the origins and interconnectedness of his personae, SKIZ sprang into action. He spent three years developing The Chronicles of DOOM, conducting more than 50 interviews to examine his origin story and transformations. The result is a carefully researched, respectful piece of journalism and an essential handbook for any fan. It’s impossible to fully unravel the mystery of “rap’s masked iconoclast”. That’s how the mischievous Supervillain moved, covert and in the shadows. But the author offers enough commentary and clues to raise our appreciation while thickening the plot. SKIZ joins me from Baltimore for a Moonbeam Levels special. We spoke about what it takes to publish a project like this and how to tread carefully. DOOM
