When I sit down to discuss their debut album, KILL THE DEAD, with 3%’s Corey Webster – known better by his stage name, Nooky – and Angus Field, I didn’t imagine that I would be discussing Field’s Grandmother’s 80th birthday. However, 3% possess a depth and sensitivity that you don’t have to listen very hard to hear. And yet, it’s a trait so often ignored due to stereotypes within the Hip Hop community and outdated racial prejudice. The overriding message behind what seems like a confrontational record on the surface, is one of hope, resilience and joy. 3% is an Indigenous rap group formed by Nooky, Angus Field and Dallas Woods, their name a reference to the remaining Indigenous population; a provocative and confronting political statement. Embodying rebellion and revolution through their sheer existence, 3% are paving a way forward for their respective communities and want their legacy to be one of inspiration and strength.

Having confirmed that Field’s Grandmother had let her hair down on her birthday, Nooky joined our conversation from on the road, heading home after a day of recording children as part of his We Are Warriors program. Feeling inspired by the younger generation, he’s hoping to re-inspire himself. “It was hectic, but they smashed it,” he tells me. He explains that the kids were running round, screaming, whilst people were at their desks working, but “it’s like they fully give themselves, they’re sharp, they’re not second guessing. It’s just pure fun”.

Having read that Nooky had once felt worn down by the industry, and was almost ready to retire before 3%, I’m curious to know whether this childlike joy, naivety and fun is a key principle mirrored in the group’s creative process. I’m met with a resounding, “Fuck yes”.

“Half the reason why we went so hard as 3% is because, for me personally, it brings back those moments from when I first started. When you do this music thing for a while, and you get into the thick of it, it can be hard,” Nooky says. “Music was my medicine in the beginning, and then it became poison. 3% made it medicine again.”

In the same way Nooky, like an alchemist, turned his poison back into a magic medicine, Field tells me he was inspired to “make better magic”; that working alongside fellow artists made him want to do more in a natural and pressure-free space. “They make me want to be the best version of myself by just being in the room with them.”

Woods grew up in the remote township of Wyndham, WA, where his talent for dancing got him scouted, before partnering with Baker Boy and contributing to his ARIA-winning album Gela. He then advanced his solo career, presenting the mini album Julie’s Boy in early 2022, enteringthe 3% group with a wealth of experience and a reputation under his belt. Similarly, Nooky had an established solo career, hosts Triple J’s Blak Out and runs his Indigenous social enterprise, We Are Warriors. Field came to the project a little greener and “a little intimidated” he tells me, by the musical prowess of the men that were to become his “big brothers”. Field tells me his preconceptions were quickly overridden to reveal a deep comradery.

“I’d heard about these fellas and [Woods] was really big on Triple J, and I was loving, Triple J,” Fields shares with me “[Woods] was just killing it, but as soon as I got in there, he was not what I thought he was. He was like my brother straight away,” Field tells me. “Nooky’s a real kind person and he really wants to help,” Field continues. “He lifts people up. He once said to me, ‘If you eat, I eat’.”

3% have a blatant love and support for one another, and one that is wholly necessary when dealing with politically heavy issues like Australia’s racism, colonisation and The Stolen Generation. Nooky explains that “because there are three of us, the weight is shared. We are not tackling things alone.”

“We’re there with the brothers, it is shared. So, the pain is not for one to bear. We all take a bit, and we lift each other up. We’re there for each other and tackle this thing together. The space 3% has created has allowed for those conversations, and other art to be made.”

“We’re there with the brothers, it is shared,” he tells me. “So, the pain is not for one to bear. We all take a bit, and we lift each other up. We’re there for each other and tackle this thing together. The space 3% has created has allowed for those conversations, and other art to be made. And it’s because of how much support we have for each other that we’re able to do these things. That’s what we do as Blak fellas, first and foremost, you know what I mean? What we’ve created together allowed us to share in the good and the bad, which is what fucking family is. Family is there for the good and for the bad.”

“3% will always be home, and that’s why it’s like a proper family,” he continues. “It’s hard to find that in the music game. The relationships get skewed, and you think things are something that they’re not. With this, we know exactly what it is, the flaws and all the good.”

Whilst the trio stand united, Field explains that he has experienced post-show racism, situations that allowed him to lean on his newfound family. “That’s when the boys sort of come around me and they said, ‘Don’t worry about it, mate. We are proud and we are doing this for a reason, just forget about them!’ They seriously got me through those hard times. There’s been plenty of examples, but the sense of family in this group, the sense of brotherhood, is like nothing I’ve ever felt in music before.”

When asked about their ability to persevere and “fight the good fight”, Nooky reveals that a great source of strength for the group are their Ancestors, and an understanding of their histories. 3%’s traction and burgeoning popularity has happened in the “blink of an eye”, they tell me. “That’s how we knew we were on the right path.”

“Every now and then, the old people, they do speak for you, they give you these things,” explains Nooky. “They give you these moments, and a voice. The energy that they feed you is not to be wasted. That’s a big responsibility to do the right thing with what they’re giving you, and I think that’s exactly what happened with 3%. It’s about bringing our stories, our personalities, our history, our take on the world, and sharing that. It didn’t come easy… You born and raised Blak? You’re fucked. Now, I’m driving my car Blak. I’m going to sleep Blak, I wake up tomorrow, Blak. I go to Triple J Blak. This is the life that was given to me. So, it’s easy to do these things, if that makes sense?”

It’s a powerful dichotomy, to have this Ancestral inspiration behind you that yearns to be heard, but to be met with racism that threatens to silence them. Nooky speaks to me about writing and releasing their debut single Our People last October, a song that was written after a day spent with children as young as 10 who have been incarcerated and racially profiled.

“Our People is a song that we wrote after a day working in a juvie, seeing fucking 10-yearolds in that setting,” Nooky says. “It’s hard to describe what it does. They are making a law where you can’t use TikTok till you’re 16, but you can go to prison when you’re 10?”

Getting into his car after a harrowing day, Nooky was to hear of more racism in Alice Springs on the radio, but instead of resigning to a world he didn’t like, he decided to “share the weight” he says. He went into the studio with 3% and they recorded Our People. Later, it was the results of the referendum, the sorrow and anger, that meant that the single had to be released at that time.

The group also utilised the language of storytelling and myth to reinterpret their own histories, whether it be Pegasus, Hercules, Jack and the Beanstalk or poisoned apples from Snow White. Nooky explains that, when Woods pulled out that verse for Our People in the studio, it was a seminal moment. “It was one of those moments where it’s like, there were so many layers to that verse in particular,” Nooky explains. “We could do a full interview just on that verse, it has so many layers, so many meanings. Are we talking about kids in prison, or fairytales? Who are these characters within those fairytales? What do they represent? How much of the truth is hidden in there?”

“Music for me was my medicine in the beginning, and then it became poison. 3% made it medicine again.”

“Our people are the most loving, funny, kind, resilient people ever,” Nooky continues. “We survived genocide, The Stolen Generation, the smallpox on blankets given to our people, the poisoned waterholes... we’ve been through it. We still laugh and have a good time, and we’re still there for each other, like that family essence and that heartbeat. The history that we carry is what we tried to put out in this album in particular.”

For the band’s single Won’t Stop with Jessica Mauboy, it was this carried history that led them to film the music video in Nowra, at the Bomaderry Aboriginal Children’s Home. “They call [it] the birthplace of The Stolen Generation,” says Nooky. “We took a song that was positive, uplifting and fun with Jess Mauboy on it, and we shot the video in a place that is a real source of pain. Not just for my people, but for this country. That’s our real history there. That was the spot... our history can’t deny it.”

It’s a powerful and uncomfortable history to acknowledge, but one that seemed to mark a moment of healing for 3%, who were visited by Elders who were once children taken to these homes. “They came, and they were there with us, and they brought so much soul, spirit and again, this strength and resilience and joy to what we have to do,” Nooky says. “3% want to bring back honour, good music, the Blak Era of Music.”

The band have a presence and physicality apparent in their stance and physical performance. Despite being scouted as a dancer, it’s a running joke within the group that Woods will be providing them with choreography, giving them dance moves to make them “The BlakStreet Boys”. Dance and movement add an additional layer of storytelling that is essential to 3%, Nooky having learnt traditional dance from his Uncle, which formed an essential part of his stagecraft and how he carries himself.

But Nooky admits that 3% has allowed for him to show a side that he wouldn’t usually reveal. He takes a breath and tells me, “We’ll get a little bit deep”.

“I was born Corey John Webster, right? Now, that little kid, he went through a lot of fucking shit. Still to this day, some of that stuff hurts you. And Nooky was kind of the person who protected him,” he tells me. “Nooky didn’t show no vulnerable shit. 3% allowed me to show what was behind [Nooky].”

Conversely, Field tells me 3% allowed him to find a burning sense of culture. Having grown up listening to predominantly Pop music and writing love songs, the group allowed him to express more complex ideas of identity, and “write the things I’d always wanted to write about”. Field tells me that 3% has “opened so many doors... so many different ways for us to feel and express ourselves. I learned a lot about myself as a person and also about my culture from writing music and being with these boys, they didn’t just teach me as leaders, they taught me as big brothers, and that’s made 3% one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”

As for future legacy, Field’s reveals that he wants “Mob to feel confident in who they are, where they come from and wear the colour of their skin with pride and passion. 3% held and passed the torch on for this generation onto the next ones to stand up and carry into the future.”