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Evil Spirits
December 2000
Darrin O'Brien has never worked a day in his life -- kind of. The Toronto-bred singer whose rapid-fire Jamaican patois helped lodge the song 'Informer' on top of the Billboard Singles chart for seven weeks back in 1993 admits to having never held employment outside the music business. "The first job I ever had was music," he says, "and it's a hard job."
Wrapped in cigarette smoke, O'Brien, better known to the world as Snow, is sitting in a cafe kitty-corner to MuchMusic's Toronto studios. It's Thanksgiving, a holiday Monday, and the streets are suitably quiet. It's also the day before Snow's comeback record, Mind On The Moon, arrives in stores so he's working hard to sell me -- and the rest of Canada -- on his continued relevance.
So far, the odds seem to be in his favour. 'Everybody Wants To Be Like You', Mind On The Moon's first single, sits at Number 2 on Soundscan's Singles chart as of this writing, and while critics have been less than enthusiastic about Snow's return (Matt Galloway of Toronto weekly NOW refers to Moon as a "scrubbed-down teen-pop nightmare"), MuchMusic and mainstream radio have embraced their prodigal son.
Snow's return to the spotlight was an unlikely one. Darrin O'Brien was raised in Allenbury Gardens, a tough, mostly Irish housing project in northern Toronto. When Jamaican families moved into the neighbourhood, O'Brien befriended them. He became fascinated by the bass-heavy reggae his friends played, constantly rewinding the scratchy tapes he was passed in an attempt to learn the style. O'Brien immersed himself in Jamaican music -- dancehall, ragamuffin, reggae. KISS and Ozzy Osbourne was soon replaced by Junior Reid, Dennis Brown and Nitty Gritty. He started break dancing under the alias Kid Mase and singing to himself in the patois of his heroes.
It was also around this time that young Darrin first tasted trouble. He dropped out of school in Grade 8 ("it just wasn't my thing") and started running with a proverbial 'bad crowd'. He also started drinking at 13 because "growing up in my neighbourhood that was the thing to do." Inevitably perhaps he became a known quantity to local police, ending up in the Metro East Detention Centre on two counts of attempted murder for which he was later acquitted.
But trouble continued to dog Snow, and he went up on charges of assault causing bodily harm for another incident. This time he pleaded guilty. On vacation in New York, O'Brien, now dubbed Snow (for obvious reasons), was pursued by hip-hop producer MC Shan, who hauled him into his studio to see if the white boy he had heard about could really sing. He could and a record deal with Warner imprint East/West soon followed. A video for 'Informer' was filmed before Snow returned to Canada to serve his time at the Maplehurst Correctional Centre. O'Brien kept himself -- and his fellow prisoners -- entertained by singing. "And everybody's freakin' out," he recalls. "I said, If I can rock the jailhouse, I think I can rock mostly anywhere."
He doesn't mean to be flippant. Jail, he concedes, was one of the worst experiences of his life. "It was like every day wishing, damn, I'd give up a couple of things to be out there." He remembers looking out his cell window in the winter and seeing miserable people waiting for the bus. "But damn, I wish I was that miserable waiting for that bus out there."
'Informer', written about Snow's incarceration at the hands of a traitorous friend, was the highlight of his cheekily-titled debut album, 12 Inches Of Snow. It became an international hit, and Snow found himself a guest on The Arsenio Hall Show and a favourite at the annual Jamaican Sunsplash festival.
And he kept drinking, taking his inebriated asshole routine on tour around the world. Often drunk and surly, the young singer's success was soon overshadowed by his reputation as a troublemaker. His second album, 1995's Murder Love, was recorded in Jamaica amidst "too much partying... too much nightclubs." A disappointment compared to his first album, Snow continued to drink even as he became a father. His third album, 1997's Japanese-only release Justuss, was named after his daughter.
Having lost his deal with Warner, O'Brien decided to "[give] up that devil, drinking." Sober now for 29 months, he quit alcohol for two reasons: to be a better father to his daughter and because of a judge who saw the good through Snow's drunken veneer. "He started telling me all this good stuff about me that a judge has never told me before. I'm like, what? Are you sure you got the right case, sir?
"Because all my charges happened when I was on alcohol, every charge. So from that day, I just quit drinking and never touched it again. Weddings, New Year's, birthdays... nothing, not even a sip."
Encouraged by new manager Paula Danylevich, Snow and childhood pal Robbie Patterson started writing and demoing new material. Excited by what she heard, Danylevich took the songs to EMI Music Publishing's Michael McCarty who took an interest.
"In broad terms," say McCarty, "it just seemed like great, straight-ahead pop music. Pop music in general being hot right now, it sort of seemed like that made it relevant." McCarty was charmed by the young man, who was nothing like the hothead of his reputation. "As soon as I met him I realized that he was a great guy, and that for whatever reason he's had some troubled past that was probably exaggerated."
The turning point came in October 1999 when Kwajo Boateng of Toronto rap group Ghetto Concept called Paula. He told her to get Snow to New York -- Robert DeNiro's production company, Tribeca Films, was casting Prison Song, an urban drama starring Q-Tip, Elvis Costello and Mary J. Blige. Boateng, a friend of the casting agent, had recommended Snow for the part of, ironically, a prison guard. "I can play a prison guard, no problem," Snow says, smirking. "It was kinda nice having the keys to open the doors. "I had to wake up at 5:30 every morning and do this movie for a month," he continues. "If I could do that, I'm focused. And I was the first one in the truck every morning. I was on set: 'What do you want me to do?' I was there." As of this writing, Prison Song is due in theatres April 20, 2001.
Musically, everything came into place for Snow the following spring at Toronto's Canadian Music Week (CMW) conference. Virgin Music paid for two demos, liked what they heard and offered a deal, an act of faith Snow is eager to repay.
"Just for them giving me a second chance... This was like, 'Okay, should we do it or not? This is a big chance taking Snow back. He hasn't been around for awhile', and they had all the love for me. So that's why I'm getting up at eight o'clock in the morning sometimes and doing interviews, because they work for me so I've gotta do it back."
With a commitment from Virgin in place, Paula bundled Snow off to The Farmhouse, a studio complex located in the wilds outside Boston. Away from the distractions of the city, Snow made quick progress on the album, despite being woken up every morning by Aerosmith drummer Joey Kramer recording in the adjacent studio.
"I'm from the city, so I was just starting to get into that country [vibe]. So when I got there it was kind of like (feigns reluctance), 'I don't know.' But then every day was just [more and more amazing]." City boy Snow found himself horseback riding and fishing. "It was the best experience for making this album." If nothing else, Darrin O'Brien is sincere. He has put his personal troubles behind him and he hopes the Canadian music industry will, too. "Back then I was hotheaded," he admits. "But now it's more like a business. I have to do this, and it's like a job now. So I'm thinking of it like a job."
And the industry seems willing. When asked to describe his former charge, Steve Waxman, Snow's old publicist at Warner Music Canada, has only good things to say. He fondly remembers taking Snow to an interview at MuchMusic soon after he came out of jail. "And we were sitting across from MuchMusic [in a cafe]... and he was so nervous he wouldn't even have a piece of toast to eat before we went in. And then to see him a month later whupping it on Arsenio Hall, doing the dog call and shit with Arsenio, was amazing!
"If there were difficulties they weren't here."
I ask Snow how it feels to have a record coming out tomorrow.
"It feels great. Plus I love the album. I'm excited about the album, love it. I play it all the time. I love every track. And I'm so excited that it's doing so well." Knowing that Snow is a boxing fan I point out that his favourite fighter, Oscar De La Hoya, has his own solo album coming out tomorrow. Is there any chance of seeing Snow in the boxing ring?
"With Oscar De La Hoya? No, I'd knock him right out!" For his part, Snow has already knocked out his biggest obstacles: drinking, self-doubt and a fear of rejection.
"Fighting's over with now," he says. "No more, no more."
