Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Hip-Hop, Ya Don't Stop?

One of the challenges I'm facing in coming up with ideas for the book is how to talk about hip-hop. The time period that the book covers is essentially the entire life span of hip-hop. However, I'm struggling to find unique angles that haven't already been put forth in the many great books about rap music and its surrounding culture.


I've been turning to my favorite rappers for inspiration and had a few random thoughts. It could be that MF Doom has succumbed to the fantastical dementia that his lyrics hint at. The greatest strengths of his musical conception is that it creates a whole alternate universe for listeners to visit. But, it's been three years since his lat album and I worry that he will have totally squandered the groundswell of attention and goodwill sparked by the DangerDoom project. Is this a case of reclusive genius or an MC too caught up in his own hype? (And, yes, I know about the health problems but the question still remains valid.)

On the other hand, Doom's former running buddy MF Grimm seems to be garnering accolades for Sentences, his first graphic novel. I wrote about it here. After re-reading it, I realized that if Sentences was a song, or more appropriately, an album, I don’t know that I’d be that enthused by it.


The unapologetic sentiment of the book's early chapters would've been hard to pull off in a rap lanscape where harder-than-you is still the order of the day. (Exceptions only seem to made for Ghostface, and God knows he earns 'em. All that we need is YOU, Tony Starks.) Something about the art on Sentences reminds me of graffiti, too, with its emphasis of elasticity and the way it eschews figurative literalness.

Sentences mostly triumphs by presenting some of the best aspects of hip-hop in a non-musical form. That strikes me as ironic in an age where rap music is the weakest selling point of hip-hop culture.

All this has got me thinking about the way hip-hop creates a worldview for its faithful. Nowadays, it seems like MCs act like hip-hop owes them something. Straight out the gate, they carp about being hated on. MF'ers (no pun intended) need to realize that you're gonna get hated on; after all, no one gave rap a free pass when it started to bubble up from the streets. There's a real dearth of what I call “just happy to be here” rap. Dave turned me on to Blu and Exile's CD and the thing that grabs me is that dude just sounds like he's having fun. When did that become such a rarity?


So, let's look at this particular moment with regard to the two aforementioned MCs: one seemingly trapped in a world he made and the other possibly escaping boundaries by re-inventing the very thing that took away his mobility. We could be talking about either MF, right? There's gotta be somethere I can use...

1 comment:

Unknown said...

A few points:

1) I think we (Doom fans) have been spoiled by his prolificness. We're used to a new Doom project every 6-9 months, so having to wait through this drought since DangerDoom is a bit trying. A couple of years between projects is pretty common for other artists, though.

2) I was watching VH1's Hip Hop Honors, and I was really struck by Whodini's performance. Dudes looked super old (hell, Jalil talks with that old man mumble now), I'd wager that most of the young white audience in attendance knew nothing about them, yet they still easily delivered the best performance of the night. Does that core skill of being able to rock a crowd in any setting still existence with today's acts? I don't know.

3) There's plenty of "just happy to be here" rap music being made, just most of it is from the South, and I don't really care for it. But that "hip hop owes me something" attitude is prevelant with NY hip hop, which is a big part of what makes NY hip hop so tiresome right now.