THIS ISN'T GOING TO BE A FAIRY TALE. Bear Who? understands this. When you're from Chicago, from Humboldt Park, there's no easy way out, no quick-rich scheme that will catapult another kid in the neighborhood running around with his cousins (fellow DJ and producers Légo and Julio Bishop) into the big time. If you were cutting your teeth in the House Music scene in the 1980s, you had to pay your dues.

From working as an assistant and co-conspirator with Julian "Jumpin'" Perez, to working behind the counter of record shops (Gramaphone, Jumpin' Music and others), to running record labels, throwing parties, DJing any room with two turntables and a PA and finally jumping into production -ÊBear Who's been there. And after years on the scene, he's finally standing at the top of the industry as one of the most respected and unique artists. He's a familiar face in a genre that's often faceless; a primetime entertainer in a genre that sometimes seems to discourage any departure from the familiar, the safe and the ordinary.

I talked with Bear Who for close to three hours in his studio. He had a lot to say, but none of it was rehearsed. It wouldn't be possible to record here every subject he touched on - familiar names from the past that have fallen on hard times and have been seemingly discarded; old residencies (including his own "A Family Affair" with Légo and Julio at Superlounge); industry success and hardships; and, most of all, his unique fusion of influences that he calls "mental music".

Bear Who is one of the party people - don't get me wrong about that. But as he talked about the four years that went into his latest creation, The Beatbox, it was inescapable to conclude that this is more than a few tracks he put together because he liked the way they sounded. This is a manifesto of sorts - and a vindication, that the years spent in the trenches of the industry haven't been wasted.

First of all, I have to ask where the name "Bear Who?" comes from. What does it mean?

It's a nickname. I was always known as "Bear" because I'm a pretty big guy. People would see my name on a flyer (especially when I worked at Gramaphone) and they'd see, for instance, Mark Farina, Derrick Carter... and Bear. "Bear? Bear Who?" That's where it comes from.

A lot of people see me as different characters when I walk into a club. I'll hear, "Man I see this guy everywhere! Who's Bear? Bear Who?" Exactly!

Tell me about the early days.

I grew up on the Northside, and ran with a crew called "House on the Boulevard". There were crews everywhere in those days, on every block. I've been influenced so many times by so many people, being in the scene since I was ten years old and meeting everybody. Just put it this way - if this was a university, I'd have my PhD, no doubt. My doctorate! "Doctor Bear Who?, House Music PhD." [laughs]

It's funny, but my little sister doesn't know that there was a time when there wasn't House Music. I was already taking over my parents' stereo and eight tracks and experimenting at ten years old. I used to mix off three radios! Get the beat, hit pause on these two... Ron Hardy and those guys were just names to us. I was ten years old - you think I'm going to the Music Box to see Ron Hardy? I was down the block with a hundred Puerto Rican kids playing "Jack Your Body".

Nobody talks about the Puerto Rican House influence that made House as big as it is, because everyone's always talking about the Southside or the Westside. I mean from 14 to 21 years old, I was just DJing - every day. We all were. Hector Lopez went to Gordon Tech with me, Légo went to Shurz, and Julio Bishop went to St. Patrick's. Our high schools would throw parties, and the DJ that held down the school, held down the party.

You used to work with Julian "Jumpin'" Perez as well, correct?

It was Julian that taught me how to DJ. I was his assistant. You asked me how old I was when I was ordained? I was ten years old, turning on the radio and hearing Julian absolutely destroy it. That was it. I was his assistant when I was 17 years old, going to 21-and-over clubs as his friend and his assistant. He taught me club etiquette. He taught me how to be a mack, how to walk into a club, how to program a record. He taught me that you don't put this record after that record. He taught me that with just one record, you should be able to take a room that's not dancing and pack the floor. How can you not become great if you're taught by the guy that invented this?