Hip Hop Fridays: Hi, My Name Is...Why Is It So Easy To Misinterpret Risk-Taking For Betrayal?
http://www.blackelectorate.com/articles.asp?ID=1491
"Girl, take your clothes off," comes the directive from my computer speakers. "It's getting hot in herrrre." Wait, is this a Nelly album I downloaded by mistake? Checking the track information... nope, it's definitely Murs and Slug. But wait, I thought these were the sensitive rappers, the ones all the girls love for their continued grappling with feelings and emotional complexity. What are they doing with a song called "Breaker Down Like a Shotgun", not to mention a host of other sexually charged titles on their latest collaborative effort as Felt, Felt, Vol. 2: A Tribute to Lisa Bonet?
Building off the success of the first volume's "ode" to Christina Ricci (which, like this album, contained no lyrical references to its namesake), the two have made another foray into filthy humor and misogynistic rhymes, and I guess that I shouldn't be surprised. Having been pigeonholed as emo-rap darlings by the always-ready-to-label press, Murs and Slug just need some additional time off from their more reputable personae. What better way to do so than by digging deep into sexual thuggery, and with a former Huxtable, no less.
My deep-seated fantasies regarding A Different World aside, it's easy to see why the duo would indulge in this departure. In a genre so concerned with image, they've been saddled with one that's a bit too tame. Of course, it's partly their own fault; their choice of recordings over the past several years have contributed to the perception that they're concerned almost exclusively with the fairer sex. On last year's "Bad Man", for example, Murs spends several minutes attempting to convince various females of his passion for sex and cuddling ("We can talk all night and listen to iTunes") — not exactly battle-worthy. Even on Felt, Vol. 1, the two combined for what might pass as their tag line: "So what you don't like us, your girl probably would." But does this (admittedly exaggerated) attention to the softer side of things preclude the rappers from a bit of crotch-grabbing every now and then?
Similar to the goody-two-shoes who decides it's time to cut loose, Murs and Slug are bound to be called out for their uncharacteristic behavior. They might even be called (gasp!) sellouts by their most ardent fans. Such is the feeling of ownership that fans seem to have over artists who depart from what is perceived to be their area of expertise: a slap in the face, a betrayal.
It's risky business, this decision to step outside the image box — the consequences can be career-threatening. In 2002, for example, Talib Kweli found himself defending, well, himself due to a few startling stylistic choices on his then-newly released Quality. While the album contained several songs fans might expect from an artist with his "conscious rapper" label, there were a few tracks whose messages failed to resonate with some of his audience. In particular, the track "Gun Music", which featured a beat constructed almost entirely of ammunition rounds being fired into the air, included several references which could be perceived as pro-gang war: "A 22 Derringer, a 38 long, a 44 Desert Eagle, a Glock Nine / Time to protect the fam I'm-a cock mine / I make the streets run red like a stop sign". Responding to the heat over such violent imagery in his lyrics, Kweli pointed to the fact that the song actually stands as something of a mockery of our reliance on guns to solve problems in our society.
Read the complete article here:
http://www.blackelectorate.com/articles.asp?ID=1491
http://www.blackelectorate.com/articles.asp?ID=1491
"Girl, take your clothes off," comes the directive from my computer speakers. "It's getting hot in herrrre." Wait, is this a Nelly album I downloaded by mistake? Checking the track information... nope, it's definitely Murs and Slug. But wait, I thought these were the sensitive rappers, the ones all the girls love for their continued grappling with feelings and emotional complexity. What are they doing with a song called "Breaker Down Like a Shotgun", not to mention a host of other sexually charged titles on their latest collaborative effort as Felt, Felt, Vol. 2: A Tribute to Lisa Bonet?
Building off the success of the first volume's "ode" to Christina Ricci (which, like this album, contained no lyrical references to its namesake), the two have made another foray into filthy humor and misogynistic rhymes, and I guess that I shouldn't be surprised. Having been pigeonholed as emo-rap darlings by the always-ready-to-label press, Murs and Slug just need some additional time off from their more reputable personae. What better way to do so than by digging deep into sexual thuggery, and with a former Huxtable, no less.
My deep-seated fantasies regarding A Different World aside, it's easy to see why the duo would indulge in this departure. In a genre so concerned with image, they've been saddled with one that's a bit too tame. Of course, it's partly their own fault; their choice of recordings over the past several years have contributed to the perception that they're concerned almost exclusively with the fairer sex. On last year's "Bad Man", for example, Murs spends several minutes attempting to convince various females of his passion for sex and cuddling ("We can talk all night and listen to iTunes") — not exactly battle-worthy. Even on Felt, Vol. 1, the two combined for what might pass as their tag line: "So what you don't like us, your girl probably would." But does this (admittedly exaggerated) attention to the softer side of things preclude the rappers from a bit of crotch-grabbing every now and then?
Similar to the goody-two-shoes who decides it's time to cut loose, Murs and Slug are bound to be called out for their uncharacteristic behavior. They might even be called (gasp!) sellouts by their most ardent fans. Such is the feeling of ownership that fans seem to have over artists who depart from what is perceived to be their area of expertise: a slap in the face, a betrayal.
It's risky business, this decision to step outside the image box — the consequences can be career-threatening. In 2002, for example, Talib Kweli found himself defending, well, himself due to a few startling stylistic choices on his then-newly released Quality. While the album contained several songs fans might expect from an artist with his "conscious rapper" label, there were a few tracks whose messages failed to resonate with some of his audience. In particular, the track "Gun Music", which featured a beat constructed almost entirely of ammunition rounds being fired into the air, included several references which could be perceived as pro-gang war: "A 22 Derringer, a 38 long, a 44 Desert Eagle, a Glock Nine / Time to protect the fam I'm-a cock mine / I make the streets run red like a stop sign". Responding to the heat over such violent imagery in his lyrics, Kweli pointed to the fact that the song actually stands as something of a mockery of our reliance on guns to solve problems in our society.
Read the complete article here:
http://www.blackelectorate.com/articles.asp?ID=1491
