Where Every Voice Finds a Home

After seeing my cousins singing on stage at age four at MV (Missionary Volunteers), I was so compelled that I asked my late mother, Quincia E. Fulford, if I could sing in the choir too. My mother asked Tim (Timothy), the choir director, if it was OK for me to sing with the choir. He almost immediately said no… I was so upset I began to cry. My crying upset my mother, and she wasn't having it. I remember singing in the choir at age four. That led to me singing solos early on at other churches.

In the summer of 1975, Camp Meeting for the South Central Conference of the Seventh-day Adventist North American Division was held in the Ashby Auditorium at Oakwood College, now Oakwood University. That afternoon, after singing praises to God with our choir from Temple Gate Seventh-day Adventist Church of Selma, Alabama, I was struck by a car that almost killed me.

Moving to Beacon, New York, when my father was hired at IBM East Fishkill, came with even greater challenges. I wanted to sing, but not with my Pops at the time. I didn't know it then, but he, Pastor Dave Fulford Jr., and my uncle Solomon Rhodes were in a gospel quartet together. That's actually how he met my mother. Anyway, my singing Pops had my elder brothers Timothy (Timmy) and Dave III and me singing “Let the Church Roll On” whenever there was no other special music. Shy and bashful at the time, I did what was asked of me.

Looking back, we always had music on that '70s component set. Not only did it provide good music for listening to the latest hits, but the records did well as Frisbees too. By age eight, I grew sick of choirs and choir directors leaving. Meanwhile, I enjoyed a plethora of secular music I wasn't supposed to listen to. I was drawn to it: Stevie Wonder, The Jackson 5, Michael Jackson, Prince, New Edition, BBD, and Johnny Gill, who took my spot after Bobby Brown left New Edition… but I forgive him. My parents were not having it. My siblings actually had my late mother thinking I was Wanya Morris from Boyz II Men for a hot second.

I played in the band at Rombout Junior High School, cutting up with Darnell Robinson and getting the band and the choir hyped… We enjoyed creating our “Little Fame” moments in time. We were both hardheaded, and even after being asked to stop playing… we did, for a moment, but gave each other the look and got right back to it. I think we were the cause of Mr. Bazelles retiring, and of Tim Negus's headaches and joys, when they really thought about it.

I took a hiatus from much of it in high school, transitioning to Tennessee after the deaths of my two eldest brothers, the late Bennie Lee Pauldin Jr. and Timothy Michael Pauldin, who were both very instrumental in my being who I am today. After spending time at Farragut High School in Knoxville, Tennessee, I had a love-hate relationship with life.

Coming back to New York, getting love from my Hispanic friends and embracing the hip-hop culture, I realized it was deep down inside of me. I was about to embark on a journey. It wasn't until after totally blowing it at Sabbath School graduation weekend for Oakwood Adventist Academy, after not really rehearsing, that I almost got it.

It would take trying out for and playing in the University of Alabama in Huntsville Wind Ensemble; listening to hip-hop and crossover R&B with Dues/Big Chris at Flavor Beyond Flavor in Newburgh; and listening to mixtapes from one of my clients, DJ Ease, who played on Vassar College radio and at The Mug on the Vassar campus, along with many other mixtapes from some of the hottest DJs in New York: DJ Clue, Silver Surfer, DJ S&S, Doo Wop, Red Alert on KISS FM, Chuck Chillout, and all of the local hometown favorites.

I always knew I had something. Songs just came out naturally, singing to the attitudes of my pissed-off siblings, and to my joy. Just knowing that I got under their skin was good enough for me. I wrote, or attempted to write, my first love song to Latonya Monique Gilchrist. We had a piano in the house… There I figured out the right chords with the perfect melody and thought the song was going to be a hit… She replied, “Oh, Clif, that's nice, but I'm not into that!” Yeah! That's probably why I don't know how to play the piano now.

Working in the barbershop as a master barber in Poughkeepsie, New York, and in Portland, Oregon, kept me in impromptu ciphers, battles and sing-offs with some of the hottest local names, like Callib and Goldie, who asked me when I wanted to come into the studio and record.

I almost signed a deal during a show at Vassar College, where Wolf Pack and I had our set sabotaged by DJ Frasier, who was actually nice… but sucked in that moment. It caused my man to throw the mic. Afterward, I found myself with Minister Fred II and the Stric'ly Jesus Camp. I didn't think gospel hip-hop had a place in my life. I learned better. I'm appreciative of my lil' big bro Minister Fred II for being so inspirational over the years. I still need my $800 back, though, Dr. Minister.