Introduction and Name Origins
Taryell: Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to another episode of Rise Urban Nation. We are celebrating 50 years of hip hop with a special group in the building. I cannot wait to talk to MCE about their journey, how they got together, what 50 years of hip hop means to them, and what they see in the future. Oba Femi and I were having a conversation earlier, and whenever I have someone connected to African ancestry in the room, I love to hear their story. Oba Femi, tell us about your name, how you selected it, and what it means.
OBrennan Moss: Back in 2007, I was learning more about myself and getting into my ancestry and roots. I joined an African-centered study group in Pine Bluff, Arkansas, and bought a naming book with names from across the continent. The book initially stated that Oba Femi meant tall and studious. At six-foot-two and focused on my studies, that name resonated with me. Years later, a brother told me that was incorrect. I spoke with Yoruba speakers who gave me the true meaning: Oba Femi is a Yoruba name meaning the king loves me or the king favors me.
Taryell: In Nigerian culture, every name carries profound meaning. Elders usually have a say in naming the kin. My Nigerian given name is Adekunle, which means wealth surrounds me. I am glad to be surrounded by wealth today with MCE.
Formation of MCE and 50 Years of Hip Hop
Taryell: How did you all link up, meet, and come up with the name MCE?
Ced Adamz: I met my brother-in-law, Eshmelek, who is also part of the group. We were recording together when a friend, Big Grip, mentioned that OB was making beats. I connected with OB for beats, and we realized we shared the same mission and vision. We started collaborating, and everything grew from there.
OBrennan Moss: Originally, we were M and C. I used to go by the rap name Magnum, which provided the M, and Ced provided the C. When his brother-in-law Eshmelek joined the group, we added the E to make it MCE.
Taryell: Listening to your music, I hear a soulful sound that carries southern influence and golden era nineties hip hop. As we celebrate 50 years of hip hop, how does that milestone resonate with you?
Ced Adamz: There is a strong cultural connection between Chicago, Mississippi, and Arkansas. The migration of jazz and blues from the South into Chicago heavily influenced hip hop sampling, flows, and the style of music we choose to create. At 44 years old, I remember when hip hop was not as mainstream as it is today, where it now appears in every commercial.
Taryell: When did you first fall in love with hip hop?
OBrennan Moss: Growing up in Pine Bluff, Arkansas, hip hop did not hit local radio until around 1986 to 1988. Prior to that, radio played soft rock, AM stations, funk, and blues. Hearing hip hop through older cousins—artists like Kurtis Blow, LL Cool J, the Fat Boys, and DJ Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince—was transformative. When they sampled music my parents listened to, it connected me to older generations of music and gave me deep respect for non-hip-hop genres.
Ced Adamz: My uncles played guitar in church, my mother sang and wrote poetry, and my household was filled with rock and roll and Earth, Wind & Fire. That diverse musical exposure inspired my writing and allowed me to fuse those influences into hip hop.
OBrennan Moss: For me, the production and beats caught my attention first. In the eighties, my brother, cousin, and I talked about forming a rap group, but I was too shy to rap, so I beatboxed. I loved sports, which kept me from formal drum or piano lessons, but I constantly beat on tables. I fell in love with beats first, and writing lyrics came later. I produced beats for about 15 years before transitioning primarily to writing.
Conscious Hip Hop and Social Responsibility
Taryell: Your music carries significant substance and consciousness. Was that intentional, or what is your writing process?
OBrennan Moss: I started out writing gangsta rap, but living in a majority-Black city where social ills directly impact our people made me search for answers and solutions. I recognized that rough music was fueling a negative mentality in me, so I consciously shifted my content. If I consider myself intelligent and struggled with those influences, many others do too. I felt a responsibility to embed truth and awareness into my music.
Ced Adamz: We are all fathers, and our sons and daughters listen to our music. Being conscious of what we put out is an ongoing process. Knowing that our voices can make a difference in our community is why I choose to speak on meaningful topics.
Taryell: Artists and poets have historically been the truth-tellers of their generations. What do you see as the biggest obstacles facing our communities, and how can we elevate our circumstances?
OBrennan Moss: It centers around identity. As W.E.B. Du Bois described with double consciousness, we are socialized in a system that was not designed for us. We battle between being unapologetically ourselves and altering ourselves to be palatable to dominant society. Black people in the United States suffer from an identity crisis.
Ced Adamz: Coming from poverty, many people focus solely on acquiring money without understanding true wealth. People do whatever it takes to get paid, and society elevates anyone who makes money regardless of character. The critical question is what we do with resources once we get them and whether we reinvest back into our communities.
Family Systems, Rites of Passage, and Grounding
Eshmelek: Our progress requires establishing our own educational systems and cultural identity. Our young men and women lack formal rites of passage welcoming them into adulthood, and few people are teaching those transitions. The Black nuclear family has been systematically undermined. When the home structure is compromised, degenerative outcomes follow.
Taryell: Rites of passage can mean different things in modern environments, sometimes distorted into street initiations. There is also immense healing needed from the intentional removal of men through mass incarceration and the resulting fragmentation of households.
Eshmelek: Other cultures have foundational traditions they can return to for grounding. Many nations have mandatory civil service or military duty that instills civic affinity and adulthood. Without our own cultural rites of passage, agriculture, education, and holistic health systems, we remain vulnerable.
OBrennan Moss: Learning historical truths, the civil rights movement, the Black Panther Party, and visiting local African bookstores opened my eyes. African Americans are African people before anything else. Rooting ourselves in ancestral heritage and value systems provides grounding so we do not simply drift with every changing trend.
Ced Adamz: We must acknowledge our African heritage first and foremost. Every day in America involves psychological and cultural warfare spanning food, media, and education. Recognizing who we are is essential to maintaining resilience.
Black Love, Manhood, and Healing
Taryell: Navigating life as a Black man in America brings psychological weight and hypervigilance. How do we stay grounded, cultivate emotional vulnerability, and support one another?
Ced Adamz: The principle of Black love representing Black power has been eroded. The introduction of crack cocaine devastated community solidarity and love across generations. When love is replaced by chasing money or drugs, the struggle is lost.
OBrennan Moss: We are conditioned to compete over perceived scarce resources rather than collaborate. Healing must begin with men stepping into leadership and protection. Historically, external systems defined manhood through destructive caricatures rather than cultural responsibility. True manhood requires embracing our heritage and being our brother's keeper.
Eshmelek: We must step back and view our situation with clear perspective rather than repeating ineffective remedies. We need a localized, agreed-upon culture tailored to our unique collective experience to build sustainable institutions.
Taryell: Young people cannot be what they cannot see. We need visible examples of conscious artists, unified families, and committed men to reshape media narratives and reclaim ownership of our stories.
Current Projects, Independent Media, and Community Action
Taryell: Where is MCE currently in your journey, and what upcoming projects are you releasing?
OBrennan Moss: We just completed our EP titled Food, Clothes, and Shelter, following our previous EP Red, Black, and Green. We are also preparing our full-length album, Knowledge Is Self, Vol. 3: Cold Minds.
Ced Adamz: Food, Clothes, and Shelter speaks to basic human necessities and the historical reality of our ancestors who were enslaved and stripped of those rights. It reflects our collective journey and perspective.
OBrennan Moss: As Amiri Baraka stated during the Black Arts Movement, the role of the artist is to raise the consciousness of the people. Our purpose is not purely financial. The mainstream industry operates on its own terms, so we must build our own independent streams and platforms to deliver the media, education, and sustenance our people need.
Ced Adamz: In addition to music, we operate the GSC Community Garden to teach food production and self-reliance, sharing educational videos across our platforms.
OBrennan Moss: You can find our community garden on YouTube, Facebook, and Instagram under GSC Community Gardens. MCE music is available on all streaming platforms under MCE Soul Muzik. You can also listen to our podcast, Soul Speaks, and follow Nine Obafemi across social media.
Taryell: Thank you, brothers of MCE, for your wisdom, soulfulness, and dedication to uplifting our community. Peace, love, and soul.
