From its inception, rap was one of the most potent musical forms of the Eighties. At it's slightest, it was filled with sexual braggadocio and almost obsessive self-absorption: The subject of most rap music was, in fact, rap music. But groups such as Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, who recorded "The Message," and Kurtis Blow, who hit the charts with "The Breaks," demonstrated that rappers could be articulate and stridently political.

Public Enemy's leader is the stentorian Chuck D, whose deep-voiced preaching is pitted against the chirpy tenor of his clownish co-rapper, Flavor Flav. The group enjoys muddy politics: To a core philosophy of black self-help, the band adds various strains of black radicalism, most pungent among them an admixture of uncritical Farrakhanism. Yet Public Enemy has achieved massive, cross-racial success, selling millions of records and filling arenas across the country. The band's third album, Fear of a Black Planet, is, in addition to rap, riveting rock music. Chuck D was born Carlton Ridenhour 30 years ago. Bill Wyman spoke with him at Public Enemy world headquarters on Long Island and at the offices of Def Jam Records in Manhattan. "The shouted slogans and ragged beats are for the stage and the studio," reports Wyman. "In person, Chuck is personable and quiet, with, as he puts it, 'a face to fit in.' It turns out that the fiery radical would rather talk about his family and his business than about politics: He and his partner and producer, Hank Shocklee, employ nearly 30 people; he's proud of the fact that they practice what they preach."

Q 1

PLAYBOY: Rap music can be jarring and harsh, almost antimusic. What sort of music was around the house when you were growing up?

Chuck D: My mother and father are record collectors. My pops was into jazz; to this day, I don't have a sharp liking for it, though I guess it's in me. My moms played all the soul. She'd play Al Green over and over and over--the same record, over and over again--and then Stevie Wonder over and over, and then Aretha, Aretha, Aretha.

Q 2

PLAYBOY: What was your road to rap?

Chuck D: I would go to clubs to check out the rappers, but it got to the point where they were using too much echo chamber and the words were muffled. I wanted to hear straight-out rhymes. I thought I could do a better job. And one day, I did.

Q 3

PLAYBOY: Your observations are of an artistic nature and they're being taken very seriously Do you consider yourself a black leader now?

Chuck D: I'm a switchboard and a dispatcher of information. But I want to be in a position to encourage black people to be leaders, and when you set some sort of example, you have to take on some of the responsibility. There are about thirty people in our structure, and there's never going to be a situation where me and Hank are walking around like Donald Trump. Being a black leader is not just saying, "Well, I'm Nelson Mandela." A black leader takes care of his kids, endorses some sort of family structure and helps keep his community together. I think my father is a black leader.

Not many black males are men. We have boys who are sixty years old. What makes a man is accepting responsibilities and having a low tolerance for oppressing forces.

Q 4

PLAYBOY: What's the difference between Michael Jackson and Michael Jordan?

Chuck D: Michael Jordan's face isn't shifting. Michael Jackson you feel sorry for. Michael Jordan you don't feel sorry for, because he is doing what he wants to do on his own terms. People are crossing over to him. Michael Jackson feels that he'll get more acceptance if he changes his face so it looks nicer to white people. He failed to understand that people liked him as he was, and motherfuckers don't like to see him with a lack of respect for what God gave him. Back in the early Eighties, Michael Jackson could have really changed the way white people looked at black people. It's not what's outside you. It's what's inside you. The music comes from within.

Q 5

PLAYBOY: What did Carlton Ridenhour do before he became Chuck D?

Chuck D: I was a messenger for a black company, delivering Government photos. The people who owned the place gave me a lot of inspiration, because it was entirely a black-owned operation, with a lot of white people working for it. I just loved working there. I wrote Yo! Bum Rush the Show [Public Enemy's first album] while I was there. Also, me and Flavor used to drive these U-Hauls for my father's business, and that was some trick. People in New York would crowd the street. But they wouldn't crowd the street when Flavor Flav was driving.