Story by Emma Willibey, photos compiled by Gloria Cowdin

A toddler stands near a loudspeaker, fixated on Kansas City rapper Aaron “Tech N9ne” Yates. The child lounges in a tour bus behind Yates’ and deals his CDs from trucks during the artist’s mid-2000s ascent. Yates now claims stardom, as July record “Something Else” sold 58,324 copies within its first week. However, the STA student who observed Yates’ journey knows the man who explored Disneyland dressed as Mickey Mouse three years ago.

“[Yates is] always at family get-togethers,” freshman Mackenzie O’Guin said. “He’s involved just like an uncle or someone like that would be.”

Business rather than blood links O’Guin to the hip-hop star. In 1998, her father Travis encountered buzzed-about Yates when Travis invested in a hip-hop clothing line.

“I knew some friends of mine were getting into the urban apparel business and needed some clothing,” Travis said. “This was back when lines like FUBU were big.”

The company was seeking Kansas City celebrities as advertisers, so Yates became a model. Exposed to rap as a Kansas City Public Schools student, Travis admired Yates’ lyrics as he did those of Tupac Shakur or Run-D.M.C. Travis said that the vulnerability of songs like 2001’s “This Ring,” in which Yates admits, “This wedding band / And music / Draws a line between life / And Tech N9ne,” demanded attention.

“[Yates is] an artist who’s kind of inside-out,” Travis said. “Everything that he goes through he puts into his music, whether he’s having trouble coping with his mother’s illness or whether he’s having fun.”

Combining Travis’ business knowledge with Yates’ creativity, the pair formed a record label that now hosts 11 hip-hop artists. When Travis asked the “crazy-looking black guy with red spiked hair” what he wished to name the label, Yates proposed “Strange Music.”

“I’m really influenced by the Doors’ music,” Yates said, citing 1967 songs “Strange Days” and “People are Strange” as inspiration. “My uncles used to play it for me all the time.”

While Travis felt confident in Yates’ distinctive taste, the economic circumstances were grim. Travis said that not only did music sales plummet in 2000, but Yates “didn’t have any sales history.”

“We started the label in one of the worst downturns in the music business,” Travis said. “At one point I was a little over $2,000,000 of my own money into this [label]. It was nerve-wracking in the beginning.”

Rather than discourage Travis, the declining music scene forced Strange to adopt a DIY approach. According to Travis, the O’Guins created Tech N9ne advertisements in record stores, plastered posters around Kansas City and distributed CD samplers after Lil Wayne concerts. Meanwhile, Yates zigzagged between Columbia, Mo. and Lawrence, Kan. to gain recognition, Travis said.

“[Yates] did a very first paid show at a place in Blue Springs, Missouri at a place called Simply Sicilian,” Travis said. “We also played a lot of clubs [and] did a show in the woods up in Cameron, Missouri.”

Yates’ 200 shows each year proved vital, Travis said. Lack of financial backing forced Strange to co-fund Yates’ first two albums through businesses connected to labels like Interscope Records, but Yates released 2006’s “Everready: The Religion” independently.

“After two [albums], [Strange’s founders] looked up and realized, ‘Oh wow, over the course of these two joint ventures, we’ve had 500,000 records [sold],” Travis said. “We got distribution through Fontana/Universal. That was in 2006, and now we’re the largest independent label that they distribute.”

From the O’Guins’ basement to Los Angeles, Calif., the Travis and Yates’ families bonded to support Strange. According to Travis and Mackenzie, Yates’ kindness sustains the relationship.

“One time we were at Carabba’s and [Yates] heard [the waiters] sing ‘Happy Birthday,’ so he bought an entire cake [for that family],” Mackenzie said. “[People] assume that [Strange artists are] gonna be total thugs, but they do have their soft side.”

According to Travis, hip-hop stereotypes also plague the O’Guins. Since people cringe at Strange’s rap roster or peg the O’Guins as uppity moguls, Mackenzie asks Travis not to flaunt his profession, Travis said.

“Mackenzie has grown up in the Catholic school system, so every once in a while when people find out what I do for a living, they have an opinion before they have an understanding,” Travis said.

However, freshman Bailey Briscoe said that the O’Guins’ label did not impact her opinion of Mackenzie.

“I thought [the O’Guins owning Strange] was cool,” Briscoe said. “I wasn’t really fascinated.”

Similarly, Mackenzie said that she considers her upbringing standard. According to Travis, Mackenzie has contributed to Strange’s marketing since childhood. As a teenager, Mackenzie’s views steer the company in audiences’ direction. After finishing rapper Krizz Kaliko’s “Scars” video, Travis played Mackenzie the clip to determine whether its sentimentality worked.

“[I was] kind of using her as an A&R,” Travis said. “I knew by her facial expressions and the fact she teared up [the video] was a good idea.”

However, Mackenzie prioritizes recording music over marketing Strange. According to Travis, Mackenzie decided her career before she could speak.

“[When Mackenzie was] two years [old], I heard almost like a bravado coming from the backseat,” Travis said. “I look[ed] at [Mackenzie’s sister] Monica and was like, ‘Is this your sister?’ [Monica]’s like, ‘Yeah, Dad, she does this all the time.”

Since learning guitar and piano, Mackenzie has realized her passion. Mackenzie said that she hopes to complete an album drawing from alternative-pop artists Lana Del Rey and Marina and the Diamonds by junior year. Although Travis said that Mackenzie’s music appreciation is natural, Mackenzie credits her Strange-centered upbringing.

“I definitely think my creativity levels have definitely grown through the company,” Mackenzie said. “I would like to have music as my life.”