Undefeatable
New member
The emergence of an artist like Lamar, who found commercial success without tapping into so-called rap faux pas, also suggests a story-driven, thought provoking hip hop record can prevail without succumbing to 21st century ideology. This month, MTV ranked the 25-year-old from Compton as “Hottest MC In The Game,” above Kanye, Drake and 2 Chainz. Lamar’s major label debut album good kid m.A.A.d City was described as “cinematic,” a “coming-of-age story” with “drama-filled narrative progress.”
Lamar’s success, nonetheless, is countered by the negative impact of artists like Chief Keef, whose violence-driven lyrics and personal life have been met with scrutiny from rap fans. Chief Keef rose to fame after releasing music on YouTube while under house arrest for dealing heroin; he eventually signed to Interscope Records. Despite the career progression, the teen rapper’s real life drama furthered when he was convicted of aggravated assault of a police officer, violated his probation, and was investigated for connection to a Chicago homicide.
“I came home one day to hear my brother blasting Chief Keef from his bedroom window, with lyrics containing themes such as killing, obscene sex acts with girls and heavy use of the N-word,” San Jose State student Lauren Hailey writes in The Spartan Daily. “My problem isn’t in the fact that we have this kind of stuff floating around in the world. My issue is that we are making it readily available to children.”
Culture writer Abdul Ali expressed his parenting concerns in a column last year for the Washington Post, which prompted an online debate of the subject. Though he says he’s still a fan of the music, he prefers it stay out of the ears of young people.
“It’s tough because in so many ways hip hop is kind of a youth-led thing, in the way that rock n’ roll was – it’s about rebellion,” he explains. “What we’re starting to see is some [interior reflection] that maybe we didn’t see before, or maybe not as unabashed like when we think of Childish Gambino. I think that this is a standout act. His voice. His content. It’s very self-critical and very anxious and very introspective. And I think that’s great for hip hop.”
Of course, Childish Gambino has struggled to find acceptance from hip hop listeners, who have criticized him as “not black enough” to be a rapper. In his song, “Hold You Down,” he vents about cultural alienation and the false notion of a monolithic blackness.
“We’re at a watershed moment because it’s hard to say what is ‘black’ anymore,” Ali observes. “Hip hop is such a global phenomenon now, and it has been for over a decade. You have people in war-torn countries saying, ‘I’m the real hip hop’ because when you look at its roots, it’s speaking out in rebellion and protest. I think we need to expand our definitions and be a little bit more inclusive.”
Beyond age and race, gender too remains a touchy subject, as misogyny has been prominent since rap’s inception. Women are depicted like exploits, and female rappers have likewise gravitated away from cerebral-types like Queen Latifah and MC Lyte to the sensationalized, sexualized Nicki Minaj and her predecessor, Lil Kim. These images can be troubling for parents with children who mimic their idols. Even rapper Schoolboy Q posted a photo of a young girl (presumably his daughter) on Instagram Saturday with the caption, “This why I hate being a rapper.”
“It’s gotten a lot worse,” Jones says. “For black women, it started off that we were just the ‘round the way girls, then we became straight-up hos. I don’t even date black men anymore because they don’t like us. They don’t like black women, especially with rap the way the videos have shown them…I feel sorry for our young girls because they probably feel they need to be that way to get men.”
She adds, “Every time I see Jay-Z with Beyoncé and they talking about all the love, I remember back to the song [“Big Pimpin’”] when he said, “I’ll never give my heart to a woman.” It’s like, ‘Yeah ni***, yes you did.’ That sh** was unrealistic.”
Ali, however, feels more complex identities have come to light in recent times giving breadth to the field of rap. Jay-Z’s song for his baby Blue Ivy, and Nas’ track “Daughters” for example, show “maturity in the art form.”
Those working within the business also contend there is strength and meaning in this popular cultural imprint.
“Hip-hop has always been the most reliable mirror image of society since its inception,” Sene, an emerging rapper in Brooklyn, explains. “If you don’t like what you’re hearing, it’s a safe bet you don’t like what you are seeing among the youth in your city. It’s unfortunate that it has been a bit affected by the consumer-driven mentality of corporate America, the results of which have artists attempting to copy one another. That is where the truth is blurred because you would be more able to rely on hip hop as a resource to understand the youth if all hip hop artists were being honest. The more frequently artists fabricate their persona, the less reliable of a resource it becomes to understand what is going on in the country.”
http://thegrio.com/2013/03/18/is-hip-hop-bad-for-black-america/
Lamar’s success, nonetheless, is countered by the negative impact of artists like Chief Keef, whose violence-driven lyrics and personal life have been met with scrutiny from rap fans. Chief Keef rose to fame after releasing music on YouTube while under house arrest for dealing heroin; he eventually signed to Interscope Records. Despite the career progression, the teen rapper’s real life drama furthered when he was convicted of aggravated assault of a police officer, violated his probation, and was investigated for connection to a Chicago homicide.
“I came home one day to hear my brother blasting Chief Keef from his bedroom window, with lyrics containing themes such as killing, obscene sex acts with girls and heavy use of the N-word,” San Jose State student Lauren Hailey writes in The Spartan Daily. “My problem isn’t in the fact that we have this kind of stuff floating around in the world. My issue is that we are making it readily available to children.”
Culture writer Abdul Ali expressed his parenting concerns in a column last year for the Washington Post, which prompted an online debate of the subject. Though he says he’s still a fan of the music, he prefers it stay out of the ears of young people.
“It’s tough because in so many ways hip hop is kind of a youth-led thing, in the way that rock n’ roll was – it’s about rebellion,” he explains. “What we’re starting to see is some [interior reflection] that maybe we didn’t see before, or maybe not as unabashed like when we think of Childish Gambino. I think that this is a standout act. His voice. His content. It’s very self-critical and very anxious and very introspective. And I think that’s great for hip hop.”
Of course, Childish Gambino has struggled to find acceptance from hip hop listeners, who have criticized him as “not black enough” to be a rapper. In his song, “Hold You Down,” he vents about cultural alienation and the false notion of a monolithic blackness.
“We’re at a watershed moment because it’s hard to say what is ‘black’ anymore,” Ali observes. “Hip hop is such a global phenomenon now, and it has been for over a decade. You have people in war-torn countries saying, ‘I’m the real hip hop’ because when you look at its roots, it’s speaking out in rebellion and protest. I think we need to expand our definitions and be a little bit more inclusive.”
Beyond age and race, gender too remains a touchy subject, as misogyny has been prominent since rap’s inception. Women are depicted like exploits, and female rappers have likewise gravitated away from cerebral-types like Queen Latifah and MC Lyte to the sensationalized, sexualized Nicki Minaj and her predecessor, Lil Kim. These images can be troubling for parents with children who mimic their idols. Even rapper Schoolboy Q posted a photo of a young girl (presumably his daughter) on Instagram Saturday with the caption, “This why I hate being a rapper.”
“It’s gotten a lot worse,” Jones says. “For black women, it started off that we were just the ‘round the way girls, then we became straight-up hos. I don’t even date black men anymore because they don’t like us. They don’t like black women, especially with rap the way the videos have shown them…I feel sorry for our young girls because they probably feel they need to be that way to get men.”
She adds, “Every time I see Jay-Z with Beyoncé and they talking about all the love, I remember back to the song [“Big Pimpin’”] when he said, “I’ll never give my heart to a woman.” It’s like, ‘Yeah ni***, yes you did.’ That sh** was unrealistic.”
Ali, however, feels more complex identities have come to light in recent times giving breadth to the field of rap. Jay-Z’s song for his baby Blue Ivy, and Nas’ track “Daughters” for example, show “maturity in the art form.”
Those working within the business also contend there is strength and meaning in this popular cultural imprint.
“Hip-hop has always been the most reliable mirror image of society since its inception,” Sene, an emerging rapper in Brooklyn, explains. “If you don’t like what you’re hearing, it’s a safe bet you don’t like what you are seeing among the youth in your city. It’s unfortunate that it has been a bit affected by the consumer-driven mentality of corporate America, the results of which have artists attempting to copy one another. That is where the truth is blurred because you would be more able to rely on hip hop as a resource to understand the youth if all hip hop artists were being honest. The more frequently artists fabricate their persona, the less reliable of a resource it becomes to understand what is going on in the country.”
http://thegrio.com/2013/03/18/is-hip-hop-bad-for-black-america/
