For the future of hip hop, all that glitters is not gold
teeth NY Daily News, November 30, 2008,
by Stanley Crouch
It continues to appear that
the cool and highly intelligent Barack Obama is going to have a
powerful impact on debilitating black popular culture, particularly hip hop.
The signs are everywhere. In the
wake of Byron Hurt's
searing documentary "Hip Hop: Beyond Beats and Rhymes," hip-hop fans
have questioned the retarding effect that hip hop has had on young black men
through encouraging thuggish violence, misogyny, clownish behavior and crude
materialism. Hurt's documentary is
most powerful because the filmmaker himself is a fan of the idiom but, as a
grown and responsible man, he felt it was necessary to call out hip hop's many
shortcomings because the idiom had moved from clever rhymes and dance beats to
advocating personal, social and criminal corruption.
Those who pretend that they
do not know what Hurt is investigating because "that is not ALL of hip
hop" need to take note of the fact that Russell Simmons, the godfather of hip
hop, recently blamed the deep vulgarization of the genre on producers who would
do anything for a buck. "Some producers have found that dirt sells,"
says the godfather. How now, brown cow? Simmons is nothing if not clever and senses that
the arrival of Barack and Michelle Obama could mean things are
going to change. One would not at all be smart to defend the "authenticity"
of pimps, supposed whores (all women, actually), misogyny, thuggery and the
rest.
Pimps up, ho's down, as they
say. Before he was elected President, Obama said in an interview with MTV News that
there was no need for laws against teenage hip-hop dress but that young black
men "should pull up their pants." A friend of mine
who lives in California
remarked to his grandson that he did not like the way rappers dressed or
carried themselves. His grandson told him that he needs to stop living in the past and catch up before
the plane leaves. My friend
noticed, as usual, that his grandson did not dress or carry himself in the
style or manner he was defending. So he decided to ask him some questions.
Shoot, said the young man, ready to straighten out his grandfather. If you were on a plane waiting to
take off, my friend asked him, and the pilot and the co-pilot came on with
their pants sagging to the ground, covered with tattoos, mouths full of gold
teeth and wearing braids, what would you do? His grandson told him he would get
off the plane as fast as he could. No doubt.
My friend then asked if his
grandson's baby daughter had been hurt and she was taken to the emergency room,
how would he feel if the doctors on duty looked like the men about to fly the
plane. "I would," said the younger man, "get her the hell out of
there." At that point, my
friend wondered what would happen to young black men who showed up looking for
work but seemed more ready for a hip-hop performance than for a job?
The answer: They probably
would not get hired. Case closed.
I believe our next President will elevate many things in our country, top
to bottom. On the pop cultural end, Barack and Michelle Obama's worldliness and
common sense will greatly diminish the national appetite for and the defense of
those who proudly commit intellectual suicide by submitting
to anti-intellectual stances and the surface styles that repel across all
ethnic lines. We are on the way out of the muck. Ask Russell Simmons. Good
hustlers always know when the game is changing. crouch.stanley@gmail.com
Gangsta Rap and Hip
Hop at its best is an art form that is supposed to trigger something within the
thought process of American society. When an artist such as Ice Cube, who is
popular in the gangsta rap culture, recites lyrics such as "
Life ain't nothing but bitches and money", he is basically calling
out to American society and showing them the conditions and mindset in which he
has instilled. Once lyrics such as that is said, it is
now up to the American people to rethink and re-examine the conditions in which
black and latino people live in. As far as minstrel shows in the past, minstrel
shows was a clear-cut depition of blacks during that time in the most racist
and stereotypical way possible. The caracitures in minstrel shows weren't
trying to trigger in the minds of others, it was just a racist and ignorant
depiction. Yes, I understand that many of the people who consume hip hop are
indeed white suburbans but when you at the conditions that plauge black urban
America such as pimping, drugs, prostitution and negative perceptions on women,
there getting more of an insight to the underbelly of America rather than
entertainment from watching rappers sag their pants and drinking 40 oz. Don't
get me wrong, there are plently of artists who glamorize the lifestyle of the
gangsta persona just for material gain but essentially, gangsta rap is meant to
rearticulate the troubles of the black urban lifestyle so that other
facets of American culture can rethink their own misconceptions of what
is black life. It is merely a starting point to something that should be
far more greater and genuine in the evolution of
people. -=-=-=-=-=-==--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-==--==--=-=
"For the
guardians of the cultural legacy of those of the blood Afric, the real question
before us is what sanction(s) will be meted out and how will we disown a
gangsta rap caricature that is so destructive to our communities today. "
The difference:
during Fechit's heyday, blacks didn't aspire to be Stepin Fetchit. They
recognized him as a stereotype that was created by whites for the entertainment
of whites. Whites in blackface as well as blacks in blackface perpetuated this
minstrel farce.
Today, we see many
imitators of these stereotypical gansta characters, a creation of rap music and
rap performers. In the early seventies, it was the Ron O'Neal character,
Priest, in the movie, "Super Fly," who was imitated.
These characters, although stereotypical, were created by blacks for
black consumption (sometimes
with the backing of white money), just as the jive-talking black was created
and imitated. Yes, jive-talking blacks existed, but they were not as pervasive
in black culture as the movies portrayed, or would have us believe.
Now to your
question: We counter these negative "caricatures," not by suppressing
this supposed artistic expression, but by re-presenting blacks in the
mainstream media, and throughout the black and white culture. Where black women
are denigrated, create a cultural cantilevering message that celebrates black
womanhood, achievements, and contributions within the black community--from
both a historical and current perspective.
This is the hard
work of a cultural redefinition of black women, and perhaps not as preferable
as attacking the source--rap music--but it will serve two purposes: put the lie
to what's being promoted, a negative image of black women, and disseminate at
home and abroad a truer picture of what it means to be black and woman. Whatever the specific negative claims
of those who would use the black community to advance their financial holdings,
be they black or white, those claims should be met with positive, counter
messages--messages that are presented with equal, if not surpassing, energy,
and done consistently as a cultural reinforcement, and as an answer to the images
and imagery that usually abound. A
President Obama has done great damage to these negative images that are
promoted in movies, television, video games, and books.
THE DREAD
LIBRARY| The Matrix
| Rhetoric
of Reggae Music | Reggae Links | Dread Library Catalog |
ReggaeÕs
Impact on Hip-Hop Jamie Ann Board
Music is one of the most influential
factors of our lives; it is thought provoking. It makes us ask questions such
as, how did they get that sound? Or what are they saying? Music can give off a
variety of feelings. With this you can only do one thing and thatÕs listen.
Reggae has been at the Ôfore-frontÕ of
the development of music. It has influenced disco, pop, and ska. In todayÕs
uprise of hip-hop we must give credit to Reggae and the Jamaican culture from
which it came from. ReggaeÕs discovery of dubbing and toasting led to hip-hopÕs
emceeing (later known as rapping) and scratching. A variety of techniques would
develop from this, one being sampling. The sound systems of Jamaica became the
center of American inner city night-life.
"Showdowns" between emcees and challenges between dancers became
competitive. Leading youth to putting their minds and skills towards something
else, rather than the violence that became daily in inner cities. Gangster rap
and dancehall music would tell of everyday realities of living in the ghetto,
including the violence always occurred. Most of all African-Americans of the
inner cities and Jamaicans could relate with the hardships of the political,
social, and economic conditions that faced them; this became the root of
hip-hop lyrics.
ReggaeÕs contributions in musical
technology were at many times looked over as being influential in hip-hop. "Very significant, but little
appreciated outside New YorkÕs Caribbean community at the time, was the
introduction of the Jamaican "sound system" style to the cityÕs
party-going mix. Using their own versions of mixing boards, since the 60Õs DJs
around Jamaica had given "back-a-yard" parties where the bass and
drum pounded like jackhammers. The "dub" style of these mobile DJs
stripped away melody to give reggaeÕs deep, dark grooves throbbing
prominence." Reggae must be acknowledged for setting the beginnings for
hip-hop, especially through reggaeÕs use of dubbing.
Dubbing is an instrumental remix of an
original tune. It usually was the B-side of Jamaican
45s, which was a remix of the A-side. In Jamaica, record cutters "began to
dub out the band track right after the intro of the tune and during the first
few bars of vocals, leaving the singers acappella. Then abruptly shut off the
vocals, sometimes chopping off words and letting the band roll." Songs
could be cut to pieces and be put anywhere on the record; nothing had to sound
smoothly. You could get fleeting moments of sound. The next cut would be
unpredictable creating suspense in a song, yet it was vital that the song still
unfolded naturally. "Dub is a kaleidoscopic musical montage which takes
sounds originally intended as interlocking parts of another arrangement and
using them as raw material, converts them into new and different sounds; then,
in its own rhythm and format, it continually reshuffles these new sounds into
unusual juxtapositions."
This sound interested urban artists in
the United States, especially in the African American community. Dubbing was
being called "scratching" in the states. "Scratching" took
popularity in the South Bronx, a poverty-stricken area in New York. One
main reason why it developed here was because for "scratching" all
that was needed was two turn tables and a mic; this was relatively inexpensive
compared to band equipment. It led to techniques of punch phrasing and break
spinning. ""Punch phrasing" —playing a quick burst from a
record on one turntable while it continues on the other — and "break
spinning"–alternately spinning both records backward to repeat the
same phrase over and over."
Afika Bambaata, Kool Herc, and
Grandmaster Flash, are three legends of hip-hop. They are looked as the founding fathers. Kool Herc, is the only one out of the three that gives credit to
his Jamaican roots for his early development of break spinning. "Hip-hopÉ.the whole chemistry of that came from JamaicaÉ..In Jamaica
all you needed was a drum and a bass. So what I did was go right to the ÔyokeÕ.
I cut off all the anticipation and just played the beats. IÕd find out where
the break in the record was and prolonged it and people would love it. So I was
giving them their own taste and beat percussion wiseÉ.cause
my music is all about heavy bass."
One
Jamaican artist that probably influenced Kool Herc was Osbourne Ruddock, also know as King Tubby. He was
the chief pioneer of dubbing. King Tubby put the focus and center of the
reshuffling process, on bass and rhythm, obviously
this is where Herc learned his skills. "In Jamaica there is an acute
awareness of the riddum as the inner message of the music and a distinct value
placed on it." There was no longer a focus on vocals. Herc use to take a
record called "BongoRock", which just featured bongos and congas and
length and extend each song. This record would later be called
"B-beats" and become the first background beats for the dance parties
in the Bronx.
Dubbing, thus enable a person to toast.
The rhythm and the bass could still be in the background, and a person could
just rhyme off the beat. "What is remarkable about vocal/dubs is the way
the arrangement constantly changes texture under the lyrics, plunging and
climaxing with echo trails, creating different moods that underscore the
singer."
DJs in Jamaica were originally around
to promote albums and hype up songs. U-Roy was the first to "toast"
over King TubbyÕs dubbings. "But what separates U.Roy from the rest is the
fact that he gave reggae this live jivin dimension which is so
electrifyingÉ" Roy boasted phrases fitting in with the words of the song.
He used a call and response style, to get the crowd hyped up. "His
rhythmic sense and distinctive voice, with itÕs gravelly exclamations of
"Wow" and "Yeah" have been much imitated, but international
success has been elusive for U-Roy."
Originally called emceeing, rapping
draws roots from toasting. In the United States, Coke La Rock is credited with
boasting crowds; he worked with Kool Herc. "La Rock didnÕt rap as weÕd
recognize it now but was more in the style of the Jamaican sound system
toasters or black radio announcers hyping a record. Still, several of his pet
party motivating slogans ("Ya rock and ya donÕt stop!" "Rock on
my mellow!" "To the beat yÕall!") would
become rap staples. Some old schoolers assert that La Rock was the first hip
hop rapper."
Lee Scratch Perry created the idea of
injecting sound effects into his versions and dubs. "His own
"upsetter" rhythms have long been a staple of the genre (and echo
throughout hip-hop today) and he virtually invented sampling." The
original sound effects were babies crying, pistol shots, police whistles and
breaking glass. These were sounds of the inner cities of Jamaica and America.
Without this, we wouldnÕt have cop sirens or gun-shots
in the background of todayÕs rap songs. N.W.A. (Niggers With Attitude) would
not be able to give the overall effect of gang violence, without sound effects
in there song "Straight Out of Compton". To
people this was shocking but it brought forth the reality of urban communities
that many looked away from.
"Directly or indirectly, elements
of hip-hop can be traced back to the sonic experiments that began in Jamaican
studios 25 years ago." Hip-hop had to start from some idea, and it is
visible that not enough Jamaican artists are credited for its technical
development. "I and the other DJs in the Ô80s, we change the whole style,
we donÕt toast and chant like one time, we put it lyrically, we put it more
like a poem, you can read along, there is rhyming. . .
But still DJ, we still have to respect all the artists who came first and set
the pace, we have to respect that."
-Papa San
Reggae music gave America the
technology to create hip-hop. From those foundations, pioneers took the basics
and developed new techniques that would advance and distinguish artists from
their original roots. The earliest dance parties in the Bronx had the similar
sound systems to those developed in Jamaica. The "control tower"
included amplifiers, crossovers, turntables, tape recorders, mixers, echo
units, and microphones. In Jamaica, while the deejay was "working the
crowd", the selector uses a number of electronic tricks. The selector will
most likely "drop bombs", which is tricking the deejay and dancers
with switching the beat, and add woofers and echoes, to add or decrease
tension. In America, the deejays did something else, in addition to Jamaican
techniques. They began to take two copies of the same disc on separate tables.
"Why listen–the early hip hop DJs asked–to an entire
commercial disc if the disc contained only twenty seconds of worthwhile sound?
Why not work that sound by having two copies of the same disc on separate
turntables, moving the sound on the two tables in DJ-orchestrated patterns,
creating thereby a worth-while sound?"The result was one of selective
extension and modification, developed simply by the human hand and ear. This
was one of the main differences between deejaying in the States, from Jamaica.
In Jamaica, dances would have a
showdown between two rival sound systems. "The competition among the
mobile discos is fierce, and these contests are an important way of making and
keeping a reputation." People began to "battle" one another to
sway the crowd towards one particular deejay. "Twenty minutes of
competitive sound meant holding the mike not only to "B", but also to
set the beat —to beat out the competition with the "defness" of
your style. So–it was always a throwdown: a self-tailored, self-tutored,
and newly cued game stolen from the multi-national marketplace." There was
synergy between what the DJs played and what excited the crowd. A deejayÕs
interaction with the crowd was influential and important. Winning a showdown
meant holding control over a whole crowd; everyoneÕs attention was on you.
Break dancing, just like dance-hall
music was competitive. Breaking crews, in the long tradition of urban gang
culture, challenged other dancers to meet them at a specific playground, street
corner, or subway platform. Breakers dueled
each other, move matching move, until one of the crews was acknowledged
victorious. In break dancing, locking and popping were upright dances in which
dancers used their arms, legs, and torsos in isolated, semi-robotic moves
requiring great body control. However, in dance hall music, the flexibility of
your body was key in competition. As seen in the movie "Dance Hall
Queen", women would compete against each other in moving their body
sexually in different positions. "The dancers are bubbinÕ —itÕs a
pelvic thing —and itÕs sexy." Whoever got the most attention of the
crowd, would be the decided winner or the person with the best moves got to
hold the limelight the longest. "Some people find the whole sexuality of
the dancehall scene offensive, but many of the women in it told me it allows
them to be in control of their sexuality as opposed to someone using them for
their own gain."
In Jamaica and the United States,
messages of violence and harsh living were portrayed in songs. Many stressed
importance on moral behavior because a corrupt lifestyle was an option for
those who lived in inner city areas, such as the South Bronx and Kingston.
"Both rap and dance hall herald the ascendancy of lone street poets who
present an unflinching treatment of ghetto realities and aspirations. The two
forms have grown to represent the most authentic voices from the communities in
which they emerged." The type of hip-hop called gangster rap can be
especially related to dancehall music.
"When
I wrote about parties, someone always died. When I tried to write happy, YoÕ I
knew, I lied, I lived a life of crime. . . Jet you
thru the fast lane. Drop yaÕ on death row. Cause anybody whoÕs been there,
knows life ainÕt so lovely. On the blood —
soaked fast track. . . DonÕt carry no switch blades. Every kids got a Tec
9 or a hand grenade. Thirty seven killed last week in a crack war."
-ICE-T These lyrics come from Ice-TÕs song called "O.G.:
Original Gangster". It clearly depicts the everyday lifestyle of growing
up in South Los Angeles. These lyrics got much criticizism because it darkly
displayed life, and people feared that listeners would take these violent
actions, even though it was a portal of real life. "Ice-T writes a song
that tells such stories, and the majority, spending so much time criticizing
the song, ignore the whole message."
The dancehall musician Anthony B. can
relate to Ice-T in his song "Cold Feet". "Dem a walk wid gun in the hand and a run the town. All
in front ah station man ah shot man down. Dem a walk wid gun in the had and a run the town. All in front ah station man ah
shot man down."
-Anthony B.
Dance hall parties and parties in the
inner cities of America, were a "calling" for violence. At many of
these parties knocking off a rival sound system or creating mayhem at events are a convenient way to make a point. The competitive aspect
of rapping and dancing on occasion has resulted in chaos, which should not be
associated with a party.
"Despite, the
"dangerous" edge of so much hip hop culture, all of
its most disturbing themes are rooted in this countryÕs dysfunctional
values." The same goes for reggae music. Most reggae music speaks of the
suffering and oppression that plagues Jamaica. Jamaicans and African Americans,
deal with racism and discrimination. Life in the inner cities also brings
economic oppression. "Throughout history, music originating from AmericaÕs
black communities has always had an accompanying subculture reflective of the
political, social and economic conditions of the time."
Kurtis Blow,
was one of the first rap artists to have a hit single, with his song titled
"The Breaks", which came out in 1980. He had this to say about rap
"ItÕs hard for new things to get exposed outside of their birth place. And
it was so hard for us to travel; itÕs hard to take a small part of the world
where something is created; how do you get exposed? IÕve been rapping since
1974. I wanted to put hard core messages but I thought
that radio would just blank off to that. But since "The Message" came
out, I donÕt know. Maybe we can say anything we want now." "DonÕt push me, Ôcause IÕm close
to the edge. IÕm trying not to lose my head. ItÕs like a jungle sometimes; it
makes me wonder how I keep from going under." -Grandmaster Flash
"The Message" by Grandmaster
Flash and the Furious Five came out in 1982. This song was a gold single and
the first rap song that rock critics respected and inspire a generation of MCs.
It was the first harsh reflection of street life that inspired rap music. In
"The Message", Grandmaster Flash is speaking about class
discrimination and his frustration is on the verge of his breaking point.
"Hip-hop has brought America a new language of rhythm, speech, and
movement that has inspired a generation to take verse to say what was too long
unspoken about this nation."
"Jamaican musicians have been
singing the latest news for nearly half a century, blurring the lines between
entertainment and social commentary, and between showmanship and
politics." The Jamaican life condition has generated three social
responses; they are aggression, acceptance and avoidance. Aggression is violence, acceptance is JamaicaÕs acceptance of its hopeless
conditions, and avoidance being that since there is no good in society, there
is no hope of contributing any.
Many reggae songs deal with these hardships of living in Jamaica. MotherÕs joy turn to
pain and hollering. Weeping for their babies and sucklings. Spirits of the innocent wandering. Sufferation everlasting,
but I want to know whoÕs responsible? They donÕt give a damn no.
-Steel Pulse: These lyrics are from the
song "A Who Responsible?" by Steel Pulse. The name of this album is
"True Democracy". This title portrays what the Jamaicans wanted, but
the songs depict the true lifestyle of the people. The economic hardships of
Jamaica have left the country frustrated, leading the people to acts of
violence and selfishness.
"The Message" and "A Who Responsible?" are just two
of the many songs that tell of the sinister aspects of a country. "The similarity of this type
of music is that, itÕs the same street people cominÕ from the ghetto, off the
street, singinÕ the music, Ôcause if you notice the people that doinÕ hip-hop
in America are people cominÕ from the mean street of the ghetto, and theyÕre
cominÕ with the same message, theyÕre lickinÕ out about sufferation within
I&I community, the
oppression within I&I community, police brutality and all a them type a
thing there." -Super Cat
Reggae was the most influential
figure in the development of hip-hop. JamaicaÕs musical technology of dubbing
and toasting would lead to AmericaÕs techniques of emceeing and scratching. The Ôsound systemÕ would become the center of attention in
urban areas. These places become the Ôbattle groundsÕ for youth to show off
their skills in hip-hop.
Most important though is that people of the inner cities of Jamaica and
America were finally being heard. Gangster rap and dancehall music spoke
about the violence that went on in their neighborhoods. Other artists in
reggae and hip-hop voiced about the harsh economic, social, and political
conditions that faced them. As blacks, they faced a limited opportunity
structure because of their skin color. Their songs portray their oppressed
lifestyle. Society has given them much criticism about their lyrics, believing
the violent words are influencing others to do deviant acts. If anything music
is to be heard, not imitated. It is vital that society listens to the messages
coming from the oppressed. Reggae and hip-hop have been the pioneers of getting
the black communitiesÕ message of their inequalities to the rest of the world. -==-=--=-==-=-=--=-=-=-=-==--=-=-=-==--==-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-==--=-=
The Hip Hop Nation: An Interview w/
Bakari Kitwana
Suzy Hansen, Salon July 19, 2002 This article appeared here on
Alernet.org http://www.alternet.org/story.html?StoryID=13639
Some young black activists complain
that the media marginalizes the good things about hip-hop, choosing to focus on
the often misogynistic lyrics, flashy and violent music videos and gangsta
image of its stars rather than its more socially conscious messages. But when
Russell Simmons' Hip-Hop Summit Action Network helped the United Federation of
Teachers and the Alliance for Quality Education draw thousands of people (the
estimates range between 50,000 and 100,000) to a recent protest against New
York Mayor Mike Bloomberg's $358 million cut in education funding, the press
took notice. Stars such as Sean "P. Diddy" Combs, Alicia Keys and LL
Cool J showed up to support the cause. A couple of weeks later, a Washington
Post headline declared: "We the Peeps: After Three Decades Chillin' in the
Hood, Hip Hop Is Finding Its Voice Politically." Mayor Bloomberg took notice, too; shortly after the
demonstration, he restored $298 million to his budget proposal. The Hip-Hop
Summit Action Network declared victory. Has a hip-hop power movement arrived?
Not quite, says Bakari Kitwana, author
of "The Hip Hop Generation: Young Blacks and the Crisis in
African-American Culture." A former editor at The Source, Kitwana argues
that although the hip-hop industry has created a far-reaching constituency, and
local and student activist hip-hop groups have emerged across the country,
there's still a lot of work to do. Kitwana believes that what he calls the
hip-hop generation – made up of African-Americans born between the years
1965 and 1984 – desperately needs a national organization, and not
necessarily one that's spearheaded by rap stars or entertainment moguls.
According to Kitwana, such a national group, one that taps into the vast
economic power of the hip-hop industry and that focuses on education,
employment and incarceration, could be more influential than the '60s civil
rights movement.
Salon spoke to Kitwana from his home in
Ohio about the tensions between the civil rights generation and the hip-hop
generation, why hip-hop stars need to take responsibility for the content of
their lyrics and what kind of leader the hip-hop generation needs.
What was your reaction to the New York
City protest? The Hip-Hop Summit Action Network had all these stars show up
– Erykah Badu, Foxy Brown, Rah Digga, Common, Noreaga.
They brought in the crowds. Is this the start of a hip-hop political movement,
and what part will the stars play?
It was meaningful in the sense that
it's an important issue. But the important thing about this marriage of hip-hop
and politics is not going to be rappers becoming political leaders. What was
misleading about the protest was that it undermined the long haul movement of
the teacher's federation who have been working on
this. It also undermines the political work that the activists in our
generation have done.
That's what the articles in the
Washington Post and other papers are missing – the activists that make up
this generation. We are immersed in a celebrity culture and when the
celebrities show up, it eclipses the importance of the work of the activists.
[The press] is getting caught up in the idea that rappers have a role to play.
They have a role to play, but they're not leaders.
Russell Simmons, who founded the Hip-Hop Summit Action
Network, was quoted in the Associated Press as saying that rappers are the
voice of the poor. What do you think of that statement? That's true to a great extent. Poor black people, especially
young blacks of this generation, have not had a voice until the emergence of
rap. If you can get past pimps and hos, hip-hop conveys the message of poor
people not having jobs and having inadequate education. Most certainly you saw
it more during the time of Public Enemy and the Poor Righteous Teachers. Today,
it exists with groups like Common. And it does exist in the lyrics of Jay-Z –
but that other message of pimps and hos is overshadowing that. Do you think the protest was a success?
The fact that the administration turned
its position so quickly after the protest makes it seem as though the protest
was the turning point. I don't think that's true. It would have been more of a
success if it was a long-term protest. And it's
misleading to kids. If they think they can show up one day to bring about
social change, then they are sadly mistaken. One rally does not a revolution
make.
And you think a hip-hop movement could
be bigger than the civil rights movement?
Absolutely. For two reasons: One, this
generation stands on the success of the civil rights movement. We don't have to
fight for the right to vote, for the right to be able to go to college. We can
take that foundation and build on it. Hip-hop as an economic force and as a
cultural movement has given us foot soldiers. They exist already. This
infrastructure gives us unprecedented power. All it needs is a national
organization to connect the dots. But so far, they're being
blinded by the stars.
The civil rights movement was a giant
step in race relations. There hasn't been one since then. This could be a giant
step for the country at large, not just for race relations, but
for civil rights for all people – because it's focusing on issues like
education and employment. You have a great segment of this country that is not
middle class, even though that's what America is supposedly about.
When you talk about the civil rights
movement as compared to this one, obviously you have to wonder who the leader
will be. If it's not a hip-hop star, and not Russell Simmons,
who might it be? What about Benjamin Chavis Muhammad, president of the
Hip-Hop Summit Action Network?
A hip-hop generation organization, if
it's going to have any lasting impact, has to have leaders born in this
generation. Ben Muhammad is a civil rights generation leader. He of all people
knows that this generation needs to immerse itself in a movement – at
some point there has to be a changing of the guard. Most of our criticism of
the older generation is that they're not making room at the table. The Hip-Hop
Summit Action Network has to make the transition too. Dr. Ben has been an
important voice, and he still has a role to play, but they have to give way to
the generation that they're purporting to lead.
Do you think we'll see this presence at
the next election? Absolutely.
Every day we're getting a step further. The Hip-Hop Summit Action Network is
important because they stepped out there. Criticism from people like me is
pushing them to go further. Before the criticism, they did not support Ras
Baraka [son of playwright Amiri Baraka and a city council candidate in Newark], they did not talk about reparations. They're becoming more
radical because the conversation is becoming more radical. And you're going to
see more. One of the things about
hip-hop is the desire to be authentic. And they know it. The Hip-Hop Summit
Action Network knows they need to be authentic. Their days are numbered if
they're not. Don't get me wrong, Russell should be applauded – he has the
resources and he stepped out there and a lot of people who have those kinds of
resources have not done the same. But we need to do more.
The problem is that the local and
student activists can't come in as cheerleaders. They have to come in in a
serious leadership capacity. This is going to mean shaking things up. And it
might mean that Ben Muhammad won't be the leader. Do you think that race is downplayed in politics now?
The conversation about race has gotten
redundant. Definitely, there's a tendency to shy away. There's no better
indication than the platforms of the political parties for the last three or
four elections. Race is just a nonissue. Some folks feel that having blacks
visible makes it easier to not make it a conversation.
We haven't had a giant step forward in
race relations in this country since the '60s. The conversation in the '80s and
'90s got to be redundant. There was Studs Terkel's "Race: How Blacks and
Whites Think and Feel About the American Obsession" and Cornel West's
"Race Matters" – I don't think that the conversation has
shifted much since then. Partly it is a problem of the mainstream not wanting
to deal with race when issues like reparations come up. But the civil rights
leadership, the old-guard black leadership, is to blame because they haven't
been effective at making the younger generation's agenda part of their agenda.
That would get more young people involved and create more energy and excitement
around politics. Until that happens, we're going to continue to have this bland
discussion.
That's one of the most interesting
things about your book – the relationship between the old guard and the
hip-hop generation. Who dropped the ball? Where did they miss making this
transition? Was it the '70s or '80s?
As we came into the '80s, few people in
the African-American community paid enough attention to globalization and its
negative effects. If you're working class and you have a job, that job isn't
able to afford you the ability to buy a home or to take your family on vacation
or even to buy a car. Many people in our generation, if they're working class
and have a job, are probably living with their parents. That is a dramatic
difference between this generation and the previous generation.
The older generation has not taken
enough time to try to understand what's unique about the
hip-hop generation. In the process, the older generation thinks that we're
slackers, that we're not go-getters like they were, that we use racism as an
excuse. There's a lack of understanding of the ways in which issues of
institutional racism have been compounded for this generation who have come of
age in a post-segregation society. The older generation just continues to look
at race and race relations in a way in which they were affected.
What's the main difference that you're
talking about?
They came of age in a society that was
not integrated, and so for them, it's a giant leap forward to live in the
society that we have now. Our generation hasn't experienced any dramatic shift
like that where we can point and say, "Oh, race relations have gotten so
much better."
You say that hip-hop is the most
significant achievement of this generation. How would the old guard respond to
that?
They would think it's crazy. Most often
hip-hop, as a cultural movement, is equated with something negative such as
anti-black images. "The new black minstrelsy" as Stanley Crouch calls
it. If you don't make a distinction between hip-hop culture
as a subculture of what I call the new black youth culture, then you'll make
that mistake.
But hip-hop as a cultural movement is
definitely one of the most significant achievements of this generation. When
you look at hip-hop as a cultural movement, you're talking about an emerging
student activist movement, you're talking about an emerging politics that's
manifested in things like the recent Cory Booker and Sharpe James race in
Newark.
When people say hip-hop is a culture,
they generally mean the four elements of hip-hop: graffiti, break dancing,
rapping and DJ-ing. But I'm talking about something more than that. Hip-hop as
a cultural movement created a national infrastructure whereby many young blacks
around the country are on the same page, are tuned in to the same thing, are
getting together – in the name of hip-hop. And that force can be
effective in terms of disseminating information and bringing about social
change. It's already going on at the local level. What I see missing is
something happening at a national level with the assistance of national
organizations that can make the strategies and impact at the local level be
seen in a larger context.
Do you think that if the NAACP grasped
the power of this generation and linked up with them that they would help build
a viable political movement?
Absolutely. If you look at the '60s
generation, young national political groups like the Student Non-Violent
Coordinating Committee and the Black Panthers were helped in some way in terms
of getting resources in order to create those organizations. Whether
it was entertainment figures financing those groups or the older generation
groups. The Southern Christian Leadership Conference, for example, was
very effective in helping to get SNCC off the ground.
It would be very effective if the NAACP
or Al Sharpton's National Action Network said they were going to work with the
younger generation, not to bring them into their group, but to create their own
organization where they could put their issues on the national agenda. But
what's happened is that a lot of these groups, and these groups' leaders, have
gotten comfortable with being in leadership. Leadership has become a business.
Because of that it's much more difficult for them to step aside and say,
"OK, this is a new generation. Let's nurture this generation and help them
to come into leadership."
What did you think about the charges that Sharpe James
launched at Cory Booker during the Newark mayoral race? James said Booker was a
pawn of whites, that he wasn't black enough. Until a hip-hop generation candidate emerges with serious
support from the hip-hop generation, people like Sharpe James will be able to
cast those types of charges. But those days are numbered. Ras Baraka, for
example, ran for councilman in Newark. [He lost after this interview was
conducted.] He is the type of candidate that someone like Sharpe would be less
able to cast those type of charges against.
But someone like Cory Booker is also
representing this younger generation. He may not be a grass-roots type of
person like Ras Baraka, but at the same time, our generation is very multifaceted
and Cory Booker is as representative of our generation as Ras Baraka. The older
generation can say we're not ready, and we haven't done this or that, but
Sharpe James cannot point to young people in his administration that he's
nurtured for leadership. Until the older generation can address that issue
– what they've done to nurture a new generation of political leadership
– then it's not fair for them to just stand on top of young people and
say, "Oh, we're gonna continue to be in leadership for 20 to 30 years and
not let you guys do anything and then get mad when you run against us."
What's the difference between a Cory
Booker and a Ras Baraka? Why do you think that Baraka makes a more appealing
candidate? He still hasn't won in Newark, whereas Booker was a councilman
there. Sharpe James defeated Booker, but it was a close race.
Booker did not appear as an authentic
candidate – not authentically black, but authentic. He seemed handpicked.
Ras has been in the community, he's been a teacher for
10 years. He's visibly a part of the hip-hop nation; he was featured on the
Fugees album.
But, still, people have to start
thinking out of the box. Booker is a product of this generation. He might not
be as close to the hip-hop nation as Ras, but he could have tapped into hip-hop
more. Booker had some support from Queen Latifah at the end. If he had tapped
into that more, I think he would have won. Booker went to Stanford and Yale
– the ability of people in our generation to do that is a result of the
civil rights generation. He's a little more polished than what's seen as an
authentic hip-hop voice but he's not an aberration.
I thought it was interesting that you
say that the old guard encourages people to vote for the Democratic Party
candidates. Russell Simmons endorsed Hillary Clinton, for example. But you
write that members of the hip-hop generation don't necessarily respond to
Democratic Party candidates. Why not?
I don't think that the hip-hop
generation believes that the Democratic Party has been any more effective in
terms of bringing about change than the Republican Party has. The old strategy
of "let's just everybody vote for Democrats" ... this is a generation
for whom results matter more than just some theory of "we've always done
it that way."
So what kind of candidates will appeal
to them, then?
Candidates
who support issues in terms of what I call the crises in African-American
culture. Crises that are more and more
affecting middle America and young whites. A survey that was done in Salt Lake
City showed that the most listened-to radio program for young whites 18 to 25
was the hip-hop show. There's always been a certain element of fascination with
black cool. But what's happening differently for this generation is that the
alienation that young blacks have been feeling throughout the '80s and the '90s
is affecting whites. Globalization is a big part of that. If you look at the
world trade protests, many of them are young, white and middle class.
What is the most important issue for
this generation?
The important issues that spin out into
all others are education and employment. The problem begins with education. No
one can possibly believe that African-Americans are inferior to whites. But yet
we live in a country where we continue to accept these disparities in
standardized tests. When you look at the high incarceration rates, you're
dealing with people who were not prepared educationally to be able to secure a
job that could allow them a living wage. So you're going to have a lot of people
who can't even begin to think about participating in the political process
because it's just not at the top of their agenda. So what effect do
hip-hop images have on this generation – you write that achieving wealth
is the most important thing to hip-hop generationers.
It's had an effect. You have more young
people not just wanting to be financially secure, but wanting to be instant
millionaires by the time they're 30. They point to people like Puffy as an
example that it can be done. Or Shaq. Or Kobe. Or Allen
Iverson.
People think that I'm being
contradictory, but it's just common sense to see that
there are two sides to hip-hop. Hip-hop has a positive impact, but also has a
negative impact in terms of these anti-black images and this misogynistic attitude
that comes from rappers who sell multi-platinum records. Like
Jay-Z. But at the same time, Jay-Z offers a message that the society is
screwed up, that it's difficult out here, that the issues of unemployment and
education are critical issues. The music is contradictory but the messages that
society is sending us are contradictory too. I don't think that it's unusual; I
think that's how life is.
What are you most critical of about
this music then? How does it actually affect people's lives, particularly young
blacks?
It's hurting a lot of young people who
don't have a concrete definition about what it means to be young and black in
America today. They turn to the music and they turn to films like "Menace
II Society" and "Dead Presidents" for those definitions. The
black intellectuals have failed to offer a new definition of what it means to
be young and black. In the absence of that, films and music have filled that
void.
Stanley Crouch did an editorial a couple of days ago about
the R. Kelly situation. He quoted [former Nation of Islam minister] Conrad
Muhammad saying something to the effect that the sad thing is that hip-hop and
the entertainment industry have created a situation where young women can
rationalize a ho mentality. Young men can rationalize a thug mentality as being part of
what it means to be young and black. We can't continue to hide behind the idea
that the critics are old people who don't know what they're talking about, and
we can't continue to hide behind free speech. These are very real issues and
the music is affecting people's lives in very real ways. We have to begin, as a
generation, to be more critical of ourselves.
Since the audience for hip-hop is made
up of so many white kids, and kids from other various backgrounds, what part do
you see them playing in this? Will they join this political movement? :
Definitely. Other
groups will play a part. But one of the things that I'm calling for and trying
to outline in the book is that the black community – young black hip-hop
generationers – are not organized enough to begin to create a movement
that would parallel the '50s and '60s civil rights and black power movement. I
put so much emphasis on African-Americans because we have not yet created a
national organization. I talk about coalition building in some parts of the
book, but you can't even begin to think about coalition building with other
groups when you don't even have one solitary serious national organization. I'm
very critical of the Hip-Hop Action Network, but to their credit, they have
stepped out there with a national group that's trying to articulate some of
these issues. But if someone from the entertainment industry spearheads it,
it's going to be more likely to fail. You're more interested in the people from the local and
student activist groups that are emerging. You have many local activist efforts emerging. Like the
group in Selma, Ala., that created the Joe Gotta Go movement – they
helped to vote Mayor Joe Smithermen [a former professed segregationist] out of
office, the Ella Baker Center for Human Rights on the West Coast headed up by
Van Jones, Black Cops Against Police Brutality, the Inner City Games Foundation
headed by Donna Frisby Greenwood in Philadelphia, Listen INC in Washington. But
these local groups don't have enough of an awareness of what other groups are
doing similarly around the country.
There's a student activist movement. At
the University of Wisconsin, Madison, they have Hip Hop Generation and they put
on a conference annually called Hip Hop as a Social Movement. The first year they had something like 2,000 participants, the year
after that, 5,000. They celebrate the four elements of hip-hop, they are
raising issues of politics and they have a multicultural and coalition-building
agenda. Hip-hop clubs are beginning to emerge on college campuses in the same
way that black student unions emerged in the late '60s and early '70s.
So you don't think that young blacks at
universities shy away from activism?
No, not at all. One of the things that happened to our
generation is that we're so immersed in celebrity culture that the media has
gotten to the point where something is almost not newsworthy if it isn't tied
to some celebrity, especially for blacks. So the Russell Simmons group gets a
lot of attention because Russell Simmons is involved with it. Because rappers turn out and support what he's doing. But I
don't think it's any more meaningful than what Van Jones is doing, or what
Delacey Davis [founder of Black Cops Against Police Brutality] is doing.
But young whites of this generation are
in a unique position in terms of political activism and in terms of putting
these issues on the national agenda. Young whites who
are into hip-hop have to make a distinction between whether they're into
hip-hop as a pop culture phenomenon, or whether they're into hip-hop as a
subculture of black youth culture. If they're into hip-hop as a subculture of
black youth culture, then they have a better understanding of some of the
issues that young blacks are concerned about – education, employment, incarceration – because those are the issues being
addressed in the lyrics. We need to see that consciousness manifested in the
polls. Suzy Hansen is an assistant
editor at Salon.
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