Your Thoughts Exactly

Thanks to the wondrous instrument that is my iPod, as well as a few crucial links from your number one DJ savior Trackstar the DJ, I have reengaged myself with one of my truest loves: rap music. I haven’t blogged about hip-hop in quite some time; wait I haven’t blogged about anything in quite sometime. Anyways here are my thoughts on hip-hop as we enter 2007.

The two most talked about news items in the last month within the greater Hip-Hop u’mmah are Nas’ newest album title (Hip Hop is Dead,) and a scholarly/useless identification of a new hip-hop sub-genre entitled “Crack rap,” or music glorifying selling drugs. Let’s deal with Nasir first.

To quote DJ Trackstar, (no known association with Trackstar the DJ) “Nas was trying to start a conversation about the current state of rap music.” As someone who has gradually learned about hip-hop in the last fifteen years, since I first heard (and liked) “Knockin’ the Boots” by the Candyman and “The Choice is Yours” by Black Sheep, I do not agree with what Nas’ assertion. Hip-Hop is alive and well.

The argument for the decline of rap music from your average white kid or hip-hop legend goes as such: The average talent of MCs on the hip-hop charts is constantly trending downward due to the industry’s rapid commercialization throughout my lifetime. Hip-Hop “on the radio,” is now, like all other forms of pop music, subject to the manipulative business tactics of record labels and media conglomerates, based on marketing data on which types of songs or which faces/stories will sell best to the general public. Talent as an MC or DJ doesn’t get you where it used to. More importantly, hip-hop no longer acts as a mechanism for empowering the African-American community, through representing current issues and struggles of black youth. Worse, hip-hop has become obsessed with materialism and violence which negatively affect impressionable youth by de-prioritizing empowerment and ignore hip-hop’s role as an educating and cautionary force.

I recently (legally) downloaded Stakes is High, by De La Soul, which is a great underground album partially responsible for launching the New York “conscious rap,” scene of the late 90s. The claims of De La in 1996 were exactly the same as Nas in 2006: Hip-Hop is obsessed with materialism and violence, people need to focus more on positivity. Here is one quote from the title track

I'm sick of bitches shakin' asses

I'm sick of talkin' about blunts

Sick of Versace glasses

Sick of slang

Sick of half-ass awards shows

Sick of name brand clothes

Sick of R&B bitches over bullshit tracks

Cocaine and crack

What albums/artists could De La Soul have been referring to in 1996? The last three years had seen the Hip-Hop charts dominated by Snoop, Dr. Dre, and 2pac on the West Coast and Biggie and company on the East coast. Nas, Jay-Z, and Outkast were on their way to superstardom, releasing their most critically acclaimed albums in this span. The underground offered Wu-Tang at the absolute height of their powers, as well as A Tribe Called Quest and many other legendary groups. It is generally looked back on by present day hip-hop fans as the greatest period in Hip-Hop’s history. Yet the criticisms that precluded the death of Hip-Hop in ’06 were there then.

Why? What has changed in 2006 that makes Hip-Hop dead as opposed to 1996?

Two major changes come to mind. First, like everything else Hip-Hop has been greatly influenced by the dawning of the digital age. If you are looking for new hip-hop, you aren’t limited to what is being played on the radio or MTV. You can download whatever album you want, be it the new Lil’ Wayne or Organized Konfusion’s first album. Online review databases as well as hip-hop message boards and websites make it much easier to build a common consensus as to what is a classic album and to specifically target and tailor one’s tastes. Moreover, the form that the online community takes,with its combination of amateurism and anonymity, makes it difficult to endorse new albums or artists for fear of backlash from the ever fickle mind of collective humanity. It is VERY difficult to take a stand against the collective in hip-hop, a community of fans who are stunningly obsessed with conformity in terms of dress, attitude, and projected personality. (A rapper is supposed to look and act a certain way, and have a very limited set of priorities.) Thus classic rap albums are not deemed classic until two or three years after their release, they have to be tested by the collective hip-hop/cool obsessed first, before everyone collectively gets the balls to label an album classic. Such an attitude is one reason behind the “current hip-hop always sucks” attitude that prevails to this day. Thus De La can complain about the state of rap in 1996, a year that saw the release of the now classic Reasonable Doubt, All Eyez on Me, Muddy Waters, Dr. Octagon, ATLiens, Ironman, E. 1999 Eternal, etc.

Of course professional coverage of hip-hop in music magazines or cultural magazines is no better than that of the general community. Most major music publications haven’t yet moved beyond having their rock critics review rap albums. Why this is I don’t know; you wouldn’t have your hockey expert comment on how to throw a curveball. Occasionally, someone magazine like the New Yorker or Slate will attempt to throw their two cents in on hip-hop; unfortunately they usually end up embarrassing themselves. The New Yorker wrote an article in their December 11^th issue on the new found prevelance of referencing selling crack in rap music, a theme which has only been around since, oh 1988. Evidently my mole in the game Slick Rubin (no relation to Trackstar the DJ,) told me that the New Yorker was actually taking its cue from a term that was coming up in blogs about hip-hop.

So to sum up, the two major trends of hip-hop criticism are to 1) make sure you don’t praise anything too much and 2) make up sub-genres that make no sense in an attempt to pretending like you staying on top of what’s new.

To me, the problem isn’t so much with the music itself, but rather, how the whole hip-hop community: rappers, MCs, record companies, critics, and fans view themselves. I believe this to be driven mainly by how the hip-hop community is struggling to deal with its own success, like any 18-24 (or in my case, 25+) old kid coming into its own (20 years from the first multi-platinum album Raising Hell.) Part of this has to do with certain values that rap music has embraced (gangsterism and the glorification of dying young.) Part of this has to do with the fact that the hip-hop community is itself full of young people, and young people are irresponsible.

But the success of hip-hop and the way in which the music brings together all types of people present an opportunity, to unify members of our u’mmah into a political force. We have the opportunity express the positive shared values of hip-hop music, especially freedom and empowerment at a time when both are under attack from our own leaders. In the late 80s, early 90s, hip-hop felt like a movement, but with limited potential to influence the direction of the country. Now, hip-hop needs to realize it has much greater potential in terms of redefining the values and identity of the United States. Hip-hop is an American force, and a reflection of what is good and bad about our country. Hip-hop is not dead: it just needs to grow up.

# posted by Marmaniac @ 9:45 AM