Asian-American rappers press for respect -- and a broader image for the music

It's tough being the first.

Just ask Philadelphia's Scott Jung, aka Chops. Back in the mid-'90s, he was one-third of the Mountain Brothers, the first Asian-American hip-hop act to sign a deal with a major label. But after the initial blast of euphoria and dreams of multiplatinum bling-bling, all the guys got out of the deal was a promotional single and a release from their contract.

"There was that whole thing that they didn't know what to do as far as us being Asian," recalls Chops of the hook-up with Sony-distributed Ruffhouse, which had hits at the time with Cypress Hill, Nas and the Fugees.

The Mountain Brothers survived for a while, releasing their music independently, but whether 21st-century America will be kinder to Asian-American hip-hop remains to be seen. Still, Asian-Americans are becoming increasingly represented in a field in which, as far as most pop consumers are concerned, they're almost invisible.

Chops, who is of Chinese descent, just released his solo debut, Virtuosity, in which he shows off his considerable skills as a producer and musician. It features a star-studded guest list of rappers: Kanye West, Talib Kweli, Ras Kass, Bahamadia and Raekwon. And some of the best in the game, such as Wu-Tang Clan's The RZA, have sung his praises.

Coming in July is The Rest Is History, the anticipated debut disc from fellow Chinese-American hip-hopper Jin, who has signed to Virgin/ Ruff Ryders, home of DMX and Eve. (The album originally was scheduled to come out this month.) The Miami rapper, who caused a stir with his appearances on BET's 106 and Park show a few years back, nabbed former Fugee Wyclef Jean to produce his first single, Learn Chinese.

Certainly, although Asian-American hip-hop might seem novel, Asians are no strangers to the wider world of DJ culture in general. In fact, such DJs as Filipino-Australian Dexter (of the group Avalanches), Chinese-Canadian Kid Koala, Japanese-American Dan "The Automator" Nakamura, and Filipino-American Qbert have been earning accolades in the worlds of dance music and turntablism for years. Then, of course, half of the hit-prone, two-man Neptunes/N.E.R.D. posse (Chad Hugo), is Filipino-American. (The new N.E.R.D. disc, Fly or Die, comes out March 23.)

"I would think that a lot of people would know that there's a lot of Asians in hip-hop," says Eric Nakamura, publisher and editor of Giant Robot, the Los Angeles-based Asian pop-culture 'zine. "At the time [of the Mountain Brothers], if you heard there were going to be three Asian guys rapping, you would think it would be pretty bad. Now, you just have to listen to it. I hope people are more aware now."

This hip-hop scene is part of a flowering of a new-Asian generation that also includes film director Justin Lin (Better Luck Tomorrow) and video/film director Joseph Kahn (Britney Spears, the movie Torque).

However, Serena Kim, features editor of Vibe, isn't so sure that things have changed all that much since the Mountain Brothers got the big shrug from Ruffhouse.

"I still think it's a problem," says Kim, who's Korean-American and who feels that many non-Asian music fans might find it hard to square hip-hop's urban, hardcore image with the buttoned-down Asian-American stereotype. "[And] a large part of the public doesn't accept Asians as Americans. And it took Puerto Ricans a long time to break through in hip-hop, and they were there from the beginning. . . . It's a tough road."

Kim believes Asian-American hip-hop needs an Eminem, someone whose talent will override questions of credibility or authenticity, and she doesn't think that person has arrived yet.

"In five years, there might be a big breakthrough," she says.

For right now, though, Chops is more optimistic than he was in his Mountain Brothers days.

"There are a lot of [Asian-Americans] out there," he says of the scene. "A lot of things take time. The younger generations are starting to come along, and the world is a smaller place."