Method Man’s star power was evident from the moment listeners heard him on Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers), especially the album’s lone solo single, which carried his name. During our recent Zoom call, he tells me in his gravelly baritone that he’s still likely to listen to that project before the rest of his catalog. But it was only the beginning of a legendary career that continues well into his fifties. Albums like 1994’s Tical and 1999’s Blackout (with close friend Redman), as well as New York rap standards like “You’re All I Need To Get By” (with Mary J. Blige) and “Bring the Pain” mark him as one of rap’s masters of unique cadences. Like a free-jazz horn player, he grabs your ear from the first bar and keeps you riveted on an improvisational rollercoaster. As of late, he’s shown his flow and assonant pen is still sharp with standout feature verses on songs like Conway’s “Lemon.”
The Staten Island native has also taken his charisma and showmanship to the small screen as well as Hollywood, taking on roles as irksome drug dealer Cheese Wagstaff on The Wire, sky-high scholar Silas P. Silas in How High (once again alongside Redman), and more recently, shady lawyer Davis Maclean on Power Book II: Ghost. He’s one of rap’s most likable people, but he has a penchant for playing unrepentant scumbags; it’s a testament to his talent. He tells us that when it comes to acting, “I don’t like to limit myself and put myself in a box. The whole point is to challenge yourself and make yourself uncomfortable.”
We spoke about acting, hip-hop, healing, and the interplanetary feat that he sees Redman achieving.
What was your favorite book as a kid, and what does it say about you?
I always liked Dr. Seuss books. And I’m actually born on the same day as him [March 2], so that’s what it says about me.
As a rapper, you’re known for your flow. How long does it take you to catch your cadence from a beat?
I usually catch it pretty quick, but the words have to have meaning, so that takes a minute. But the melody is always there. And then, there’s those comfortability moments where you stick with what you know, the comfortable flow and things of that nature. There’s always a go-to. But I like to challenge myself.
How do you prepare for a day on set as an actor?
You want to do your due diligence so you’re prepared. Not just know the lines, but … I call it showing up. You show up when they say “action.” I usually got to take a dump and all that because we usually shoot in the mornings. Then, I have a few breath mints only because they taste good. That’s my ritual. It used to be lemonade in the morning, but the sugar would get me so worked up that I would be sweating during shooting. Wardrobe hates [people who sweat]. I don’t care who you are.
What’s the most indulgent purchase you’ve ever made?
I’m not big on possessions, but I’m not going to lie — I did pay over $200K for a car. It was an AMG Mercedes-Benz … the two-door. I took a picture [with it] in The Source magazine. I kid you not, that car just sat in my driveway. I never drove it. It was so bad that the battery was dead in the car from non-use. It literally conked out on me one time when I drove it. I’m not an expensive-purchase dude. That, and maybe my house. But I don’t consider that a want — that’s a necessity.
Did you ever care about the “King of New York” title?
I was never concerned with it. If you ask some of my goons, when my first album came out with “Bring the Pain” and all that, I was running New York for a minute. I never realized it while it was happening — we’re talking hindsight. When you’re in it and you’re as humble as I am, you don’t look at it as you’re that guy. You just think, “I’m one of the guys now.”
What’s the best piece of career advice you’ve been given?
Lyor Cohen told me save my money. And he said it in a sarcastic manner, the way I took it in hindsight, because we were discussing some serious issues that he was having with the direction of my career and I wasn’t really paying attention. I wasn’t interested that day to hear what he had to say. We went to lunch. And he looked at me and kicked up on the energy, I guess, [and] ended the meeting with, “Save your money.” That’s why I got nothing but love for Lyor, because he’s never lied to me. It’s like, “Buddy, the way you’re thinking right now, you’re going to need to save your money. You’re not going to be here very long.” I’m glad I picked up on it. Even if I’m wrong about it and my assumption is wrong, I picked up on it as “get your shit together.”
You made hit albums and a stoner comedy with Redman. What’s your funniest memory of him?
So many. He’s funny but doesn’t know he’s funny. He’d be dead serious, and that’s the joke. Even when we’re boarding an airplane, everybody’s looking around to see what we’re laughing at [like], “Why are these guys having such a great time this early in the morning?” He’s just a pleasant dude, man. Love him.
He loves to skydive. Would you ever go with him?
No. He knows it. But that’s his thing. I think Doc, because he’s been in the music game for so long, he needed a different kind of quiet, and you don’t hear shit up there. He’s going to be the first rapper to go to space. Watch.
What’s the Wu-Tang album you’re most likely to go back and listen to?
The first one [1993’s Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)]. Absolutely. The double CD [1997’s Wu-Tang Forever] is just too overwhelming. And you only have your first. I mean, occasionally every dude thinks about his first piece of pussy. Whether it was atrocious or not, you always go back to your first, like, “I remember that.”
Who was the famous person that’s outsmoked Method Man?
Everybody that really smokes. That’s the misconception about myself and Redman. And it’s weird because we used to wear that shit like a badge of honor. I don’t care who smokes the most, we’re all going to die from this shit. So it’s like, how about this question: Who’s rushing to fucking get emphysema the quickest? We’re at that age now where you look at shit and realize how uninformed you were. You feel like it’s right, but in all actuality, you’re contributing to the delinquency of other people your age and maybe younger. Who knows? It makes you really think, like, “I was an idiot.” You wish you would’ve spoke from a well-informed place as opposed to an uninformed place.
What do you think about the adult contemporary rap discussion? Do you think there should be a recognized sub-genre for 40-plus artists?
Even if it’s not recognized, it already is. But as far as 40-plus rappers, the stigma with hip-hop is that it’s an age limit on it. What breaks those barriers is when you see someone like Nas or Killer Mike win Grammys for the same art form, and those guys are well off into their forties. There’s nothing wrong with it just to be included or to keep kids in tune with who came before them. But in the same breath, I think hip-hop is what it is, and we could all be happy in our endeavors. I mean, there’s no award that you can give me for the life that I’ve had. And I won a Grammy, so I could talk a little shit.
What does healing look like for Method Man?
Being honest, taking care of my responsibilities, and being genuinely happy. Who knew getting older would do that? You get content with just the little things. I want to look at the sunset because I like sunsets, not because I’m trying to appease someone or follow some status quo. I know it sounds weird, but your mind works in crazy ways, and when you get these euphoric feelings, you never know when it’s going to hit you.
