As evidence of what’s changed for the Australian hip-hop act OneFour, the group’s Jerome “J Emz” Misa points to the blue sky behind him.
“Right now I’m going for a midday walk – I never used to do this back in the days!” the rapper laughs, his Zoom screen shaky as he puffs through the streets of westernSydney. “Physically and mentally, I feel like there’s been a lot of positive changes.”
For one, while OneFour made their name as the first in Australia to embrace drill, a Chicago-born genre that tells often-nihilistic tales of street violence, J Emz no longer identifies as a driller. “I’m an artist and a musician – and [my music] comes from that perspective,” he says.
The group, who grew up together in Mount Druitt, were teenagers when they started making music in a local youth centre. They’re now in their mid-to-late-20s and have had “a lot of time to reflect” on where young adulthood in one of Sydney’s most disadvantaged postcodes took them.
“If you’re Polynesian, you grow up in church, and you have certain principles and morals that you live by, that you’re taught by parents,” J Emz says. “But what we all had to go through in the street went against those principles or morals.”
What they went through has been well documented. In 2019, the year the group enjoyed breakthrough success with their single The Message, OneFour hit two major setbacks. First, three of the group’s members were jailed over a violent pub brawl. Second, their lyrics were taken by New South Wales police as evidence the group were engaged in gang warfare. Strike Force Raptor, a specialised police squad created to tackle outlaw motorcycle gangs, made it their mission to stop OneFour from ever performing in Sydney – and have, so far, more or less succeeded.
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Despite the group’s repeated denials of involvement in gang violence, the police havecancelled their tours,barred them from entering the Aria awardson the night they were nominated, andarrived with metal detectors and undercover officersto the premiere of their2023 Netflix documentary. What should have been the start of a brilliant career sputtered and stalled, and maintaining momentum has been an issue.
But it hasn’t stopped them becoming heroes. As a hip-hop manager and tastemaker, Christopher Kevin Au, puts it: “With OneFour, people are buying into much more than the music – they’re attached to the story. The trajectory of OneFour has seen them become the ultimate underdog tale.”
Now, OneFour are chewing over their journey on their long-delayed debut album, Look at Me Now.
“The album is based on a story of overcoming the obstacles that we’ve had to experience, growing from the people we were when we first started making music to the people we are today,” J Emz says. “Look at us now – and look at where we are with our careers now.”
Today, OneFour are arguably the biggest act in Australian hip-hop (bar their friend and collaborator the Kid Laroi), with several multi-platinum singles to their name. While they have always been proudly independent, the group has struck a distribution deal with the Sony Music subsidiary The Orchard, lending them more institutional backing than they’ve ever had. It’s at Sony’s Sydney office that I meet three of the band’s four core members for an initial group interview: J Emz, Dahcell “Celly” Ramos and Spencer “Spenny” Magalog.
There have been some lineup shifts. As of 2023, all members of the band are out of prison, though Salec “Lekks” Su’a, who was born in Samoa but holds New Zealand citizenship, was deported to New Zealand after finishing his sentence. Last year the group’s longtime manager stepped down from his role, and original member Pio “YP” Misa (younger brother of J Emz) left to join the priesthood, a decision he discussed in atearful Nine News interview. A condition of this interview was that YP’s departure not be discussed and, with some awkward topics to skirt around, there is sometimes a stiffness in our conversation. But one thing the group is happy to talk about is the album.
Look at Me Now packs plenty that will feel familiar to OneFour fans – eshay slang, gunshot samples, quintessentially Australian references to Coles, Penrith Panthers and Honda Civics, and pithy lines including “They put money on our heads / We call that shit an op shop” (a reference to an alleged murder plot). But there’s also a new introspection to many of the tracks. “We show a different side of ourselves – we get a bit vulnerable,” J Emz says.
That includes Phone Call, the group’s first love song, featuring theR&B singer Mabel. But other tracks tackle big topics like the environments that raise us, how easy it can be to get caught up in the system, and what it means to pull yourself out of one sort of life and into another. There are bars about the young kids let down by schools and the friends who have been sucked in by drugs and landed in prison. On the album opener, Change, J Emz implores young listeners to learn from his mistakes; elsewhere, Spenny raps about waking up in cold sweats from the memories of things he’s done.
J Emz says he doesn’t want to be a role model for anyone (“I don’t want that spotlight”) but he’s aware there is a younger generation who look up to OneFour, not just as hit-makers but as representatives of Mount Druitt and Pasifika people on the world stage. When I talked to a fellow Mount Druitt hip-hop act, Kapulet, in 2020, he described the group’s influence on the young people of their neighbourhood: “Before, everyone used to want to be footy players. Now everyone wants to be a musician.”
J Emz says: “We know our music goes a long way, and it reaches a lot of people. So when it came to the album itself, I feel like it is the right thing to do … to be that positive role model.”
OneFour say the album is “for those who want more” from life, and hope it motivates their listeners. They’re disappointed they won’t get to share it live with fans in their home town; while the group will visit the rest of the country as part of their album tour, a Sydney show still isn’t possible: “We’ve tried,” J Emz says. Instead, the group staged a listening party at a secret location in western Sydney on Thursday, where the album was played over a sound system. To date, the only times they’ve been able to perform in their home city are in festivals or supporting act slots.
In their war against OneFour, NSW police have often hit venues hosting the band with prohibitive user-pays police bills that effectively force the gig’s cancellation. Guardian Australia understands that the group’s Sydney show with the Kid Laroi in November only went ahead after the payment of a six-figure police bill, funding several riot squads, horseback patrols, plus police at the perimeter of the show and at Parramatta station.
In fact, across a seven-year career, OneFour have only played about 20 shows – a number any other artist would do within six months of an album tour. The official police line is that they fear “antisocial behaviour” should OneFour be allowed to perform, which is exasperating for the band.
“We haven’t had any major incidents involved with our shows,” J Emz says. “Everything’s gone safely. It’s tough when you’ve been doing it for years, and it’s just a matter of them [the police] just letting go of whatever they got against us.”
It doesn’t feel coincidental that this extraordinary level of police intervention has been exercised against a group of Pasifika men; for their part, NSW police havedescribed their own actions as “lawfully harassing”the band. When I ask the usually chatty J Emz if it feels like discrimination, he has only one word in answer, which arrives to the awkward laughter of his bandmates: “Yes.”
But OneFour are surprisingly positive about what they have gone through and what’s to come. “We wouldn’t be who we are today if we didn’t go through that stuff, if it was just a walk in the park,” J Emz says. “I feel like that’s why people resonate with our music and find it so authentic.”
OneFour are, J Emz feels, “a living example of what’s possible with music”. Spenny agrees: “Without music I would have ended up on a different path, a whole different lifestyle … music for me, changed me – and basically saved my life.”
Now, he just wants people – and the police – to understand what most other artists don’t have to spell out: “We’re musicians. We love our craft, and we’re just trying to get our story out to the world.”
Look at Me Now is out 13 June (Sony Music).OneFourare touring Australia from 21 June