Send in the Psychopathic Clowns

David Bauder

Monday, July 26, 1999 | 9:57 a.m.

NEW YORK -- Here's a distinction to strive for: the most despised musical act in America. Insane Clown Posse nominates itself.

Dumped by Disney, dissed by critics, this two-man rap outfit from Detroit is ignored by radio stations and can't get its videos near a TV screen. Yet their new album debuted at No. 4 in Billboard's album chart and their concerts are crowded, particularly in the Midwest.

It's the outlaw syndrome at work again.

"We're the most hated band in the world," Violent J, the talkative clown, said.

J and his partner, Shaggy 2 Dope, sit in a Manhattan hotel room, wheezing slightly. It's a muggy day and they're hanging out with buddies, but since a reporter is in the room they hide behind warped circus masks.

It's the daytime version of the clown makeup they wear onstage, and for all public appearances.

The two men sit astride a rather macabre, growing empire. In addition to CDs, Insane Clown Posse is releasing its own, straight-to-video movie this summer and even selling its own dolls. That's plastic J with the ax in his hand.

They don't even pretend to be musicians, rapping and laughing over backup tracks provided by their producer, Mike E. Clark. Predictably, much of the instrumental backing sounds like a slightly sinister circus.

(Cultural reference point for those over 30: Think Kiss for a generation weaned on rap and much harder to shock than youngsters who grew up in the 1970s.)

Insane Clown Posse has some eclectic musical tastes, even making the unfashionable admission that they're Michael Jackson fans. Their music mixes in some rock inspired by bands they admire, such as Korn. Yet their embrace of rap is another indication that hip-hop's aggression and do-it-yourself ethos is what really appeals to their generation.

"That's another reason people hate us," Violent J said, "because we're white and we rap."

They're in their early 20s and were turned on by rap music when they were kids. Their inspiration? Hardcore rappers such as NWA. They readily admit that they are not musicians and say got into the business because they like attention and money.

The songs themselves provide ample ammunition for critics. Most are wildly profane, with even the titles unprintable. And that doesn't count the song, "I Stab People." During one song they brag about using a particular expletive 93 times.

Another song, again with an unprintable title, contains the eerily disturbing chorus: "Girl you know I love you, but now you've got to die." In "Another Love Song," the narrator brags about having "killed your cat and stuffed it in the mailbox." That's one of the less lewd admissions.

The cranky song with the 93 expletives talks about how the band hates Oprah, opera, the Beastie Boys, Ted Nugent, Celine Dion, Dionne Warwick and on and on. To make sure no one's missed, they dismiss the entire Western Hemisphere. The song ends with the band members shooting themselves.

It's the kind of material that made Disney's Hollywood Records blanch. They dropped Insane Clown Posse, then virtually unknown, on the day in 1997 when their debut record was to be released. Island Records later picked up their contract, and released this year's "The Amazing Jeckel Brothers."

Violent J says the critics miss the point; Insane Clown Posse is trying to entertain, not influence. Their work is the musical equivalent of a horror movie, containing many of the same elements of self-referential humor.

"We don't hurt people," he said. "It's all fiction. We play characters. That's why we wear masks."

The duo rejects any notion that violent music played a role in incidents such as the Columbine High School shooting in Colorado.

"Even if the killers left notes in their bedrooms saying, 'Insane Clown Posse did this,' it wouldn't be our fault," J said.

Critics would have a point if the band tried to impose itself on people who didn't want to hear the music, he said. But it exists for its fans, not for outsiders, he said.

"We know what Insane Clown Posse does is controversial. It's offensive. It's terrible to many people," he said. "But you don't see us on MTV. You don't hear us on any radio stations. We don't want to ever subject what we do to an audience that doesn't want to see us.

"All we ask for," he said, holding up his hands, "is this much space in a record store."

Like Deadheads, Insane Clown Posse fans have their own name: the Juggalos. ICP say they give the disaffected a community, provide a home for young nerds. They show solidarity with a concert ritual, spraying their fans with Faygo, a sticky, sweet orange soda popular in Detroit.

Music critics tend to write off Insane Clown Posse as uncreative and untalented. Since they already feel disliked, they just add the critics to the enemies list.

Disney's dismissal "put our name in front of everyone in the world," J recalled, "but the CD didn't sell."

Since then ICP has methodically built its audience, usually by word of mouth. They will sometimes bus into a town before a concert and pass out fliers themselves near a local high school.

It's that outlaw image again.

"That's how we operate and that's why everyone hates us," J said. "We slipped in there through the back door."