Pam the Funkstress is so true to her name, even Prince wants to party with her. For the past month, the Bay Area DJ has been hitting the road with the Purple One on his lavishPiano and a Microphone Tour, DJing his after-parties with her well-honed blend of classic funk and golden-era hip-hop. (In her lively sets, she’s been known to shift fluidly from Divine Sounds to the Gap Band and DJ Kwest.) It’s a victory for the longtime DJ, known around the Bay Area for her scratching prowess and her radio andclub residencies, but it’s not her firstCoup; she was a member of that infamous, socially charged Oakland rap group with Boots Riley in the 1990s.
After fêteing Prince at his shows in New York and Toronto, and a few days before rejoining him in Atlanta on April 5—a show that, in Prince’s typical cloak-and-dagger style, she got little notice about—the gregarious Pam called Pitchfork from her home in San Mateo, California. We spoke about her three decades behind the decks, Prince’s special requests, and how she perfected a certain jaw-dropping stage trick.
Pitchfork: When did you get started DJing? What was that initial spark for it?
Pam the Funkstress: One of my friends in high school, her boyfriend was a DJ. He wanted to teach a female how to DJ, but she didn’t want to learn. That’s whenSalt-N-Pepa came out, so I wanted to be the first female DJ on the West Coast.
My parents bought me my first set of turntables. There were only guys DJing back then. I learned fromQBert and fromDJ Platurn, who is withthe Oakland Faders, and a real huge Bay Area icon. They were a battle crew; there was, like, 400 of ‘em. They hung around in my garage and taught me how to do certain things.
Pitchfork: That’s great. It’s like a spin on parents buying their kids’ first trumpet.
PTF: Yeah! I was daddy’s little girl. I was spoiled. My mom was like, “What do you want turntables for?” [laughs] My dad told me, “If you touch my turntables and try to scratch, you’re gonna get in trouble.” So I got my own.
Pitchfork: You came up in the '80s freestyle battle scene in the Bay Area. That’s a pretty legendary era.
PTF: When I first started DJing, it was all freestyle. I wasn’t really into rap, ‘cause rap wasn’t really out here at that point. My first 12” single was Debbie Deb’s“When I Hear Music.” My first rap [album] wasToo $hort.
In 1993 or ‘94, I was at a jamming convention andBoots Riley saw me DJing for another group. He approached me and said, “Hey, we got a record deal and I wanna know if you can come in my studio and scratch for me.” I was like [disinterested], “Yeah, yeah,” because I’d heard that so much. Everybody was always saying, “Oh, you’re good, I’m gonna call you,” and no one ever called. But Boots was different. He called and called and called.
I went into the studio, I did the scratches on two songson [The Coup’s 1993 debut album] Kill My Landlord. Then Boots asked me to go on tour. And that was it.
Pitchfork: Let’s talk about your current stint on Prince’s tour. It began after you spun at two of his Bay Area after-parties, right?
PTF: Yep. A friend of mine asked me to in February. He said, “It’s a Prince after-party, and he requested a female DJ.” I guess [Prince] really liked what he heard. From what I understand, he likes funk, old-school classics. That’s up my alley.
Then when he popped up with a surprise show [in the Bay Area] in March, I DJed another after-party at theGreat American Music Hall. He came up to me and said, “DJ, give me a scratch,” and I scratched with him right there, him playing [guitar] over it. That was the first time we ever jammed together—no practice, no knowing, just a connection that happened.
Pitchfork: What’s that moment like, jamming with Prince for the first time?
PTF: I’m still wondering! [laughs] I can’t speak a lot about him, but I can speak about my experience. I mean, I actually got to jam with Prince, and I’m still saying that. It was beautiful. I’m just honored to be a part of history.
Pitchfork: And now you’re back home in San Mateo, but will you be called out again soon? Do you know when and where the next stop will be?
PTF: No, I don’t know [when it will be]. But I will be called again soon.
Pitchfork: So Prince calls and you’re out the door?
PTF: I look for that purple P in the sky and then I just run. [laughs]
Pitchfork: Has Prince requested any songs from you?
PTF: He did, something from the Ohio Players. I played “Love Rollercoaster.”
Pitchfork: You’re also a chef and co-owner ofa catering company. What’s your specialty?
PTF: I cook it all, but Southern food is what the people like. I make a great tri-tip [specific cut of beef], I make great jambalaya, my fried chicken is to die for. I call myself a black Italian—my lasagna is awesome.
Pitchfork: I feel like rappers-turned-chefs are all over the place, from Action Bronson to Junglepussy. Is there something about hip-hop that pairs well with cuisine?
PTF: You know, I think so. There are a few hip-hop artists who own restaurants. Doug E. Fresh has aJamaican restaurant.
It’s something to fall back on, but it’s something you have to love, because being in the restaurant business is not easy. It has its ups and downs. I mop, I take out the trash, I do dishes. There’s improvisation to it.
Pitchfork: You’re also known for scratching records with your breasts. Was that a painful learning curve?
PTF: [laughs] Oh, I don’t do that anymore, not as I get older! I started because I was going to New York tothe Zulu Battle and I had to figure out, what can I do different? I was practicing in the garage one day and I put on the Lady of Rage, andshe said, “Let me loosen up my bra strap/ And let me hit you with my raw rap.” I went, wait a minute!
Pitchfork: In your career, have you seen a double standard exist for female DJs, that they should act sexy or look a certain way as well as cut a killer set?
PTF: I think it’s gotten better. Used to be, if you saw another girl over here, let’s say Paris Hilton, they’re gonna hire her over me. Well, I’m not gonna say she’s cute, but I’ll use that as an example, okay? Say you have this cute girl over here who doesn’t know how to mix water, and then here you have a down-to-earth sistah who’s a little overweight but has the skills to rock the party? They’re gonna take her over me, regardless.
Pitchfork: That’s sad.
PTF: All those little Barbie doll DJs that were coming out with their bikini tops and short-shorts, I don’t see them so much now. Now it’s about skills and talent. That I have, and you can’t take my talent away from me. Now there’s a lot of female DJs, some of ‘em good, some of ‘em bad, but we’re getting more respect.
That’s why I’m here to represent for all women. I don’t care if you’re EDM, house, trap; or black, white, yellow, green, blue, or purple. I want to represent for all the females. I want them all to know that. Don’t stop doing what you’re doing. Don’t let no one discourage you.