When I was growing up, music and television were
pretty much all that I had. I grew
up on these influences as not only a means of entertainment and a resonance of
spiritual feeling and understanding, but also as lessons in life that would
shape, at the core, the person that I would become.
In the 1990’s, I never thought much of music being
anything other than what it was at face value at the time. In those days, hip-hop was a new art
form still, taking shape in new form on almost a daily basis. I was living near the east coast, in
Toronto at the time, and the influence there was heavily from New York. My bff at the time was a New Yorker, so
that just resulted in me diving deeper into the good shit and just becoming
completely immersed in hip-hop.
Toronto, too, was not too shabby of a place for hip-hop in its own
right. On the weekends, some of
the illest shit was coming out of the university radio station. Illest? Damn, I have used that word in a long time...
The music though, was what was most important. Whether coming out from the university
air waves, or from the latest Kid Capri mixed tape from the New York
underground, the music spoke to us the same. Back then, the lyrics were gritty and real. The music was about the streets, and
hustling for paper. They were
about accumulating street cred and making sure the haters were kept in
check. There were some like Busta
Rhymes, Jeru the Damaja, and Tribe Called Quest that made you think with poetic
analogies and smart lyrics.
I think most people that know hip-hop would agree that
the music coming out of New York in the early 90’s was the best of the
best. In an earlier post, I listed
out some of my faves from that era, and you can find it here: http://a-lo-books.blogspot.com/2011/12/favorite-music.html
That wasn’t all though. The west coast gave birth to gangsta rap, which was an
entirely different animal. It was
ballsy and raw, and it reeked of danger.
You had to listen to it because it was too much force to ignore. The gangsta rap was good too, and it
was as much from the streets as was the east coast hip-hop. The west coast street culture was (is?)
heavily influenced by gangs, so the music connected with the streets and gave
that culture a voice. I suppose I
have a unique perspective on both sides, because when I moved back to the west
coast in the mid 90’s, tha DoggPound, Snoop Dog, and Dr. Dre were just
getting started.
It was a great time for music. The east coast versus west coast battle
was poppin’ off. Biggie Smalls was
the illest. Tupac came out here
and transformed his soul, immersing himself into the gang culture, and in doing
so, he made some of the best hip-hop/gangsta rap ever to hit the streets.
Something sad and unfortunate happened though, and I
don’t mean the sad and tragic deaths of Biggie or Tupac. The music changed. The 1990’s ended, and with it, the
great music. As if the music of
the dirty south was not bad enough, the lyrics became as fake and plastic as
our economy at that time. Drinking
40’s gave way to champagne. Street
cred and dope rhymes gave way to a fake ass life of luxury and lessons in pushing the envelope of
ebonics. Every song was about
drinking Crystal, driving Maybachs, sporting bling, and flying G6 jets. What a bunch of bullshit.
Oh sure, we all know that rappers just breaking into
the biz are already loaded with enough cheddar to own Gulfstream jets. Of course it’s bullshit, and that’s my
point. The music was
bullshit. It was not real. The lyrics were fake, as in pretend, as
in total fiction. It was the
glamorization of a life many people in our culture wish they could afford but
know they can’t.
There’s nothing really wrong with that, except when
people begin to take to heart. In
reality, it’s fun to sing along with some bullshit songs about the glamorous
life. It’s even fun to dream about
such a life. A lot of great movies
and books are about such lives, and while we are experiencing them, it is not
only a fun experience, but a harmless escapade for our imaginations. There is a point that we crossed
though, where the musicscape became over saturated with this message of bling,
and I think that’s where we are today.
When I look around my city, I don’t see the
bling. I never did. In reality, only 2% of people in our
country are considered rich by the government. That is only a small number of people. The music of bling isn’t representing
us. It isn’t representing the
streets. It isn’t representing my
neighbors. It isn’t representing
anybody I know. That’s when you
know something is wrong. In these
tough economic times, it is actually depressing to hear lyrics of bling.
There is hope though. I was listening to the radio the other day when I heard this
song come on, “Thrift Shop” by Macklemore; you can find it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QK8mJJJvaes
I thought that the song was
thoroughly entertaining, and kind of a joke, but mostly, I was happy that I was
witnessing a change in attitude in our mainstream. The song is not only about being broke, but it also celebrates being
a broke ass. That song spoke
directly to me, and I was digging it.
I’m still not sure that this song isn’t a joke or a spoof, but
Macklemore is not a joke. I didn’t
know who he was, but I listened to a few of his songs on youtube, and he raps
about deep issues. That’s cool,
and refreshing.
I hope that this is the start of a new wave of music
for this decade, and if it is, I will be happy. Maybe we can get back to listening to ill music again. Maybe we can start using the word “ill”
again? I’m probably pressing my
luck with that one. Either way,
here’s to being broke and happy!
Kanpai!
PS. This is a cool site/resource for keeping in touch with hip-hop -both of yesterday and today: http://www.undergroundhiphop.com/index.asp?
PS. This is a cool site/resource for keeping in touch with hip-hop -both of yesterday and today: http://www.undergroundhiphop.com/index.asp?
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