I know you've been thinking it. And if you haven't,
you probably haven't been paying attention. The art we
once called hip hop has been dead for some time now.
But because its rotting carcass has been draped in
platinum and propped against a Gucci print car, many
of us have missed its demise.
I think the time has come to bid a farewell to the
last black arts movement.
It's had a good run but it no longer serves the
community that spawned it. Innovation has been
replaced with mediocrity and originality replaced with
recycled nostalgia for the ghost of hip hop past,
leaving nothing to look forward to. Honestly when was
the last time you heard something (mainstream) that
made you want to run around in circles and write down
every word. When was the last time you didn't feel
guilty nodding your head to a song that had a 'hot
beat' after realizing the lyrical content made you
cringe.
When I heard Jam Master Jay had been murdered, it was
the icing on the cake.
A friend and I spoke for hours after he'd turned on
the radio looking for solace and instead heard a
member of the label Murder, Inc. about to give
testimony about the slain DJ's legacy. My friend found
the irony too great to even hear what the rapper had
to say.
After we got off the phone, I dug through my crates
and played the single "Self Destruction." The needle
fell on the lyrics:
"They call us animals
I don't agree with them
Let's prove em wrong
But right is what were proving em"
The only thing that kept me from crying was my anger
trying to imagine today's top hip hop artists getting
together to do a song that urged disarmament in
African American communities, or promoted literacy, or
involved anything bigger than themselves for that
matter. I couldn't picture it.
All I could picture were the myriad of hip hop
conferences where the moguls and figureheads go
through the motions and say the things that people
want to hear but at the end of the day nothing
changes. No new innovative artists are hired to
balance out a roster of the pornographic genocide MC's
.
In their place, we're presented with yet more examples
of arrested development - the portrayal of grown men
and women acting and dressing like 15 year olds.
Balding insecure men in their mid 30's making entire
songs about their sexual prowess and what shiny toys
they have and you don't.
The only hate I see is self-hate. The only love I see
is self-love. All one needs to do is watch cribs and
notice none of these people showing off their heated
indoor pools or the PlayStation Two consoles installed
in all twelve of their luxury cars have a library in
their home. Or display a bookshelf, for that matter.
No rapper on cribs has ever been quoted saying: "Yeah,
this is the room where I do all my reading, nahmean?"
To quote Puffy in Vogue magazine Nov, 2002: "Diamonds
are a great investment... They're not only a girl's
best friend, they are my best friend. I like the way
diamonds make me feel. I can't really explain it, its
like: that's a rock, something sent to me from nature,
from God, it makes me feel good... It's almost like my
security cape."
If rappers read, they might know about the decades of
near-slavery endured by South African diamond miners.
Or the rebels in Sierra Leone whose bloody
diamond-fueled anti-voting rampages leave thousands of
innocent men, women and children with amputated limbs.
Often, hip hop's blatant excess is rationalized with,
"We came from nothing." That statement rings hollow
given even a little bit of context. African Americans
have been "coming from nothing" for 400 years. That
didn't stop previous generations of artists,
activists, and ancestors from working toward a better
situation for the whole, not just themselves.
It's
grotesque to see such selfish materialism celebrated
by a generation who are literally the children of
apartheid. The time has come to re-define the street
and what it means to come from the street. Yes,
criminals & violence come from the streets, but so do
men and women who live their lives with kindness, and
within the realm of the law. The problem with making
'street' or 'realness' synonymous with criminality
is that poor black children are demonized. You never
see the image of middle class white children killing
each other promoted as entertainment.
I respect the ability of an artist to explore the
darker side or extremities of their personality but
when that's all there is, there is no balance. In
previous years, NWA existed simultaneously with Native
Tongues, Cypress Hill and Digable Planets, Gangstar
and 2 live crew.
There's room for thugz, playaz, gangstas, and what
have you. My issue (aside from the fact that rappers
spell everything phonetically) is that they have no
heart. Rappers reflect what has become a new image of
success where money is its own validation and caring
is soft unless you're dropping a single about your
dead homie.
Question: Why haven't these so-called "ballers" gotten
together and bought a farm, a prison, a super market
chain, or chartered a school? But they all have
clothing lines. Smells like a sucker to me. The lack
of social responsibility from people who claim to 'rep
the streets' is stunning.
Yet we still have had the hearts and minds of most of
the world. We negate this power if we don't step up to
the plate. Our perspective needs to change; our whole
idea of power needs to globalize.
Gangsta shouldn't be
shooting someone you grew up with in the face;
"Gangsta" is calling the United States to task for not
attending the World Summit on Racism in South Africa.
"Balling" shouldn't be renting a mansion; it should be
owning your own distribution company or starting a
union. Bill Cosby's bid to buy NBC was more
threatening than any screwface jewelry clad MC in a
video could ever be.
As a DJ, it's hard: I pick up the instrumental version
of records that people nod their head to... and mix it
with the a cappella version of artists with something
to say.
It is expensive and frustrating. But I feel
like the alternative is the musical equivalent to
selling crack: spinning hits because it's easy,
ignoring the fact that it's got us dancing to
genocide. There are plenty of alternatives today but
you'd never know it through the mass media. Hip hop
has become Steven Seagal in a do-rag.
Meanwhile, media
radar rarely registers artists like Cannibal Ox,
Madlib and the whole Stones Throw crew, Bless, Saul
Williams, Bus Driver, Del, Gorillaz, anything from Def
Jux, Freestyle Fellowship, Anti Pop Consortium, Kool
Keith, Prince Paul, @#%$ Public Enemy... the list goes
on for ever. I get some solace from knowing and
supporting these artists, and from the fact that
around the world from Germany to Cuba to Brazil to
South Africa, hip hop's accessibility and capacity for
genius is still vital, thriving, and relevant.
And yes even amongst the bleak landscape in this
country, wonderful things do happen. Like Camp Cool J
and various artists donating money to research AIDS
and even lend their faces to voting campaigns. Russell
Simmons, among other socially conscious endeavors, led
a rally to stop NYC's mayor from cutting the school
budget and donates part of the proceeds from his
sneaker sales to the reparations movement. The lack of
coverage of efforts like this is as much to blame as
any wack MC with a platinum record.
I'm not dissing the innovators of the art form, or
those of us who got it where it is today. I will
always play and support what I feel is good work. I
guess this rant came more out of what Chuck D said at
the end of Self Destruction: "We've got to keep
ourselves in check," and no one has
checked hip hop for some time.
I've entertained the idea that I might just be getting
old. But if it's a function of my age that I remember
hip hop as the peoples champ, so be it. I was raised
on a vital art form that has now become a
computer-generated character doing the cabbage patch
in a commercial, or a comedian 'raising the roof.'
That's not influence to me, that's mockery. Hip hop my
friend, it's been a great 30 years filled with great
memories, and it's been fun to watch you grow. We've
got dozens of broke innovators and plenty of mediocre
millionaires out of the deal, but I really need my
space now and we've got to go our separate ways. I
will always love you, but it's time for me to move on.
TIGHT ARTICLE. ON POINT IN WAYS...
__________________
you probably haven't been paying attention. The art we
once called hip hop has been dead for some time now.
But because its rotting carcass has been draped in
platinum and propped against a Gucci print car, many
of us have missed its demise.
I think the time has come to bid a farewell to the
last black arts movement.
It's had a good run but it no longer serves the
community that spawned it. Innovation has been
replaced with mediocrity and originality replaced with
recycled nostalgia for the ghost of hip hop past,
leaving nothing to look forward to. Honestly when was
the last time you heard something (mainstream) that
made you want to run around in circles and write down
every word. When was the last time you didn't feel
guilty nodding your head to a song that had a 'hot
beat' after realizing the lyrical content made you
cringe.
When I heard Jam Master Jay had been murdered, it was
the icing on the cake.
A friend and I spoke for hours after he'd turned on
the radio looking for solace and instead heard a
member of the label Murder, Inc. about to give
testimony about the slain DJ's legacy. My friend found
the irony too great to even hear what the rapper had
to say.
After we got off the phone, I dug through my crates
and played the single "Self Destruction." The needle
fell on the lyrics:
"They call us animals
I don't agree with them
Let's prove em wrong
But right is what were proving em"
The only thing that kept me from crying was my anger
trying to imagine today's top hip hop artists getting
together to do a song that urged disarmament in
African American communities, or promoted literacy, or
involved anything bigger than themselves for that
matter. I couldn't picture it.
All I could picture were the myriad of hip hop
conferences where the moguls and figureheads go
through the motions and say the things that people
want to hear but at the end of the day nothing
changes. No new innovative artists are hired to
balance out a roster of the pornographic genocide MC's
.
In their place, we're presented with yet more examples
of arrested development - the portrayal of grown men
and women acting and dressing like 15 year olds.
Balding insecure men in their mid 30's making entire
songs about their sexual prowess and what shiny toys
they have and you don't.
The only hate I see is self-hate. The only love I see
is self-love. All one needs to do is watch cribs and
notice none of these people showing off their heated
indoor pools or the PlayStation Two consoles installed
in all twelve of their luxury cars have a library in
their home. Or display a bookshelf, for that matter.
No rapper on cribs has ever been quoted saying: "Yeah,
this is the room where I do all my reading, nahmean?"
To quote Puffy in Vogue magazine Nov, 2002: "Diamonds
are a great investment... They're not only a girl's
best friend, they are my best friend. I like the way
diamonds make me feel. I can't really explain it, its
like: that's a rock, something sent to me from nature,
from God, it makes me feel good... It's almost like my
security cape."
If rappers read, they might know about the decades of
near-slavery endured by South African diamond miners.
Or the rebels in Sierra Leone whose bloody
diamond-fueled anti-voting rampages leave thousands of
innocent men, women and children with amputated limbs.
Often, hip hop's blatant excess is rationalized with,
"We came from nothing." That statement rings hollow
given even a little bit of context. African Americans
have been "coming from nothing" for 400 years. That
didn't stop previous generations of artists,
activists, and ancestors from working toward a better
situation for the whole, not just themselves.
It's
grotesque to see such selfish materialism celebrated
by a generation who are literally the children of
apartheid. The time has come to re-define the street
and what it means to come from the street. Yes,
criminals & violence come from the streets, but so do
men and women who live their lives with kindness, and
within the realm of the law. The problem with making
'street' or 'realness' synonymous with criminality
is that poor black children are demonized. You never
see the image of middle class white children killing
each other promoted as entertainment.
I respect the ability of an artist to explore the
darker side or extremities of their personality but
when that's all there is, there is no balance. In
previous years, NWA existed simultaneously with Native
Tongues, Cypress Hill and Digable Planets, Gangstar
and 2 live crew.
There's room for thugz, playaz, gangstas, and what
have you. My issue (aside from the fact that rappers
spell everything phonetically) is that they have no
heart. Rappers reflect what has become a new image of
success where money is its own validation and caring
is soft unless you're dropping a single about your
dead homie.
Question: Why haven't these so-called "ballers" gotten
together and bought a farm, a prison, a super market
chain, or chartered a school? But they all have
clothing lines. Smells like a sucker to me. The lack
of social responsibility from people who claim to 'rep
the streets' is stunning.
Yet we still have had the hearts and minds of most of
the world. We negate this power if we don't step up to
the plate. Our perspective needs to change; our whole
idea of power needs to globalize.
Gangsta shouldn't be
shooting someone you grew up with in the face;
"Gangsta" is calling the United States to task for not
attending the World Summit on Racism in South Africa.
"Balling" shouldn't be renting a mansion; it should be
owning your own distribution company or starting a
union. Bill Cosby's bid to buy NBC was more
threatening than any screwface jewelry clad MC in a
video could ever be.
As a DJ, it's hard: I pick up the instrumental version
of records that people nod their head to... and mix it
with the a cappella version of artists with something
to say.
It is expensive and frustrating. But I feel
like the alternative is the musical equivalent to
selling crack: spinning hits because it's easy,
ignoring the fact that it's got us dancing to
genocide. There are plenty of alternatives today but
you'd never know it through the mass media. Hip hop
has become Steven Seagal in a do-rag.
Meanwhile, media
radar rarely registers artists like Cannibal Ox,
Madlib and the whole Stones Throw crew, Bless, Saul
Williams, Bus Driver, Del, Gorillaz, anything from Def
Jux, Freestyle Fellowship, Anti Pop Consortium, Kool
Keith, Prince Paul, @#%$ Public Enemy... the list goes
on for ever. I get some solace from knowing and
supporting these artists, and from the fact that
around the world from Germany to Cuba to Brazil to
South Africa, hip hop's accessibility and capacity for
genius is still vital, thriving, and relevant.
And yes even amongst the bleak landscape in this
country, wonderful things do happen. Like Camp Cool J
and various artists donating money to research AIDS
and even lend their faces to voting campaigns. Russell
Simmons, among other socially conscious endeavors, led
a rally to stop NYC's mayor from cutting the school
budget and donates part of the proceeds from his
sneaker sales to the reparations movement. The lack of
coverage of efforts like this is as much to blame as
any wack MC with a platinum record.
I'm not dissing the innovators of the art form, or
those of us who got it where it is today. I will
always play and support what I feel is good work. I
guess this rant came more out of what Chuck D said at
the end of Self Destruction: "We've got to keep
ourselves in check," and no one has
checked hip hop for some time.
I've entertained the idea that I might just be getting
old. But if it's a function of my age that I remember
hip hop as the peoples champ, so be it. I was raised
on a vital art form that has now become a
computer-generated character doing the cabbage patch
in a commercial, or a comedian 'raising the roof.'
That's not influence to me, that's mockery. Hip hop my
friend, it's been a great 30 years filled with great
memories, and it's been fun to watch you grow. We've
got dozens of broke innovators and plenty of mediocre
millionaires out of the deal, but I really need my
space now and we've got to go our separate ways. I
will always love you, but it's time for me to move on.
TIGHT ARTICLE. ON POINT IN WAYS...
__________________