Saturday, January 26, 2013

CAN'T STOP WON'T STOP


I’ve got that itch again.

It often comes to me in the winter months, when I cling to works of inspiring art to carry me through the gloom. During this period, my standard for the Artist is at its highest, and so my tolerance for mere Entertainment is greatly diminished.

This is why—despite the fact that I enjoy it quite a bit, and even go through some solid bouts of obsessive listening—the itch to complain about rap has returned once again.

I’ve mentioned before that I don’t subscribe to elitism when it comes to art, but this should be distinguished from the standards that I do hold. I don’t put any intrinsic value upon the training or technical skill of the artist, so a 12-year-old R&B singer is just as capable of producing valuable art as a classically-trained pianist or a veteran guitar hero. Regardless of “pedigree,” it all depends on the effect that the final product has upon me. For me, the purpose of art is to evoke feelings, ideas, and experiences. The best of art seeks to unlock truths about the human condition and provides the audience with insight into their own lives. This is to be distinguished from entertainment, which is valued for its ability to please, to comfort, to distract, and to transport you away from the ills of your life.

After much rumination, I think I can finally elucidate on what exactly it is that bothers me about hip-hop as a whole. Specifically, there are three major failings that pervade the entire genre. I sincerely hope that future hip-hop artists eventually prove me wrong, but as it stands, things are looking bleak. None of these charges will be that surprising, but I’ve never heard or seen them seriously considered as a whole. And of course it’s possible to name artists in other genres like rock and pop who are guilty as well. But unlike any other genre of music, these failings are ubiquitous in hip-hop. Every artist or group that I can think of is at least guilty of one failing, and the vast majority is guilty of all three.

1.    Vocal Performance: Limited Emotional Range

I have written about this one before, and I still find this to be a quality that constrains the power of a lot of rap tracks. The basic problem is that the pressure to conform to “street” standards of masculinity severely limits the range of emoting that MCs can do without being labeled as gay, wussy, or weird.

The obvious exceptions are feelings that can be tied up with aggression, like paranoia and indignation. Admittedly, vocalists that tap into these emotions are often quite powerful—think of Chuck D and Ice Cube in their prime. But aside from these instances of expressive incandescence, rappers have to reign it all in, lest they appear soft. So even the quirky or pacifist types like Q-Tip, Black Thought, and Aesop Rock have to keep up muted, “laid back” personas. When important topics are broached, it’s with a calculated reserve or a cool bemusement.

I understand how this is rooted in hip-hop’s origins as party music from the slums of New York City. The original value of hip-hop culture was its ability to empower and invigorate the dispossessed kids of the ghetto, and the tradition of braggadocio in the raps of battling MCs was a crucial component of this. So, aside from the more conventional pressure to conform to street standards of masculinity, hip-hop tradition has perhaps amplified the tendency for artists to avoid surrendering to emotions that would erode their reputation as “in control.”

But just compare the vocals of MCs from 1979 to 2013 with those of any other genre. You get a much wider range, and much greater intensity of emotions in Jazz, Rock, Pop, and R&B. Hell, compare Frank Ocean with his Odd Future buddies. Sure, the O.F. rappers can sound convincingly deranged or goofy and stoned, but Frank takes on frailty, tenderness, despondency, empathy, love. And he’s not without cynicism or without ties to entertainment culture, but his comparative lack of emotional reserve feels downright audacious, more so than any rape lyric that Tyler can come up with. And part of that audacity lies in the fact that Frank has emerged from a culture that has for two decades actively discouraged honest emotional engagement for the sake of maintaining one’s “alpha” status.

There’s plenty of creativity and humanity to be found in the history of hip-hop, but I’m still hoping for MCs who can follow Frank Ocean’s lead and fully surrender their voices, reputation be damned, to the demands of their art.



2.    Lyrical Style: Convention and Entertainment Trumps Poetry

Perhaps this one sounds like snobbery on my part, but I’ll try to explain what I mean when I say that hip-hop lyrics are largely bereft of poetic power. The Ancient Greeks dissociated two types of knowledge that are respectively acquired via two modes of communication: Logos vs. Mythos. Logos is “the Word,” it’s best defined as the manifest content of speech and writing. The precision of its conveyed meaning can lead to an expansion of commonly agreed-upon descriptive knowledge. Mythos, on the other hand, pertains to latent content of communication. This can lead to multiple, sometimes overlapping layers of meaning and experience that are evoked from within the receiver. While Logos can sometimes be used to unlock Mythic Truths, e.g. Kant’s philosophical treatises on metaphysics, most mythic resonance exists outside of literal description.

This is why poets have a tendency to play with language conventions and especially with metaphors. The manifest content of Langston Hughes’ “A Dream Deferred” is meaningless. Why is he asking us about physical consequences for an abstract event like the deferment of a dream? Of course, it’s the latent content that we respond to, and part of its power comes from the subversion of conventional modes of descriptive speech in order to tap into an emotional state.  Our language is shaken up and scrambled in order to unlock felt ideas and experience, rather than to describe what’s around us.

This can’t really be said for hip-hop lyrics. In terms of style, they are primarily topical and descriptive narratives, albeit peppered with similes and metaphors used for entertainment rather than for expressive resonance. This is true even for the most lauded of tracks by the most praised MCs. For instance, Kanye West’s “Diamonds from Sierra Leone” stands out for its openly conflicted rumination on western materialism, black empowerment, and blood diamonds. The song is definitely a high point of Kanye’s career, and of the hip-hop canon. But surely a great deal of its power comes not from the lyrical evocation of its ideas, but rather from the topic itself, combined with one’s expectation of West as a huge star in a genre known for its superficiality (see #3). In terms of its poetic power, it offers roughly the same experience you would get from reading an incisive New Yorker essay on blood diamonds, but with dramatic background music to fill in the emotional cues for you. There’s value in that, but mostly as Logos.

And like an essay printed in a newspaper or magazine, rap lyrics tend to become dated and less relevant as the years pass. Especially the similes and metaphors. These do exhibit some playful irreverence with speech conventions, but rappers too often rely on hip-hop’s own conventions for lyrics: references to pop & entertainment culture of the day (or, post-Wu Tang, of one’s youth). Good for a chuckle or an insider’s nod of approval, but impotent as far as mythic resonance goes. Not to mention that, as time goes by, those sly references to Napoleon Dynamite and Kim Kardashian will be completely irrelevant even as an in-joke. It’s as if the artists themselves are insisting that they have the shortest shelf life possible.

The issue of shelf life itself probably reflects cultural differences to some extent. A song can intentionally be made for the moment, especially to function as part of a community ritual (like for play at a dance club). So the classicist notion of the Eternal quality of art doesn’t always apply. But while the importance of community can’t be understated, let’s be honest: it’s our market driven entertainment culture that has largely encouraged this mentality of rapid consumption and disposal. Our desire to feel good Right Now has trumped our respect for artists and their ability to edify us.

Actually, taken as a package, a hip-hop track is much closer to a Sci-Fi/Fantasy story than an essay or newspaper article.  The lyrical narrative and music serve to construct the impression of a desired persona. And it offers the listener his or her own empowerment through fantasy. Instead of imagining oneself as a formidable wizard to distract from the pain of social rejection, a listener can find strength and confidence in the idealized and exaggerated personas of the MCs, whether it’s the cool insouciance of Rakim or the cinematic crime narratives of Jay-Z and Raekwon. There’s nothing wrong with this per se, and I myself have used the empowering fantasies of rap to conjure my own confidence when feeling down. But in the long term, this indulgence in fantasy just distracts us from our problems. And in those moments when I need an artist to challenge me and offer me insight into difficult truths, I find such obvious escapism to be deeply unsatisfying.

Heck, if it were still just for the sake of fantasy, some more inspired and evocative use of language might be enough for me. As it stands, rap lyrics, even at their best, simply fail as poetry. They rely too much on Logos, and the only Mythos used is for cheap nostalgia and fealty to Entertainment Culture.

3.    Lyrical Content: Shallow at Best, Hateful at Worst

If it was just the first two failings that permeated hip-hop, I wouldn’t get so frustrated with it. After all, it would basically be close to most contemporary pop music: enjoyable, disposable entertainment that nonetheless can sometimes hit on topical or (limited) emotional poignancy. But this last one really is the killer, and it’s very sad that this is not discussed more often among its fans. Why do we all actively ignore the fact that the content of hip-hop and rap reflects the worst of our society? Let’s go through the list:

Violence, Misogyny, and Bigotry. This is the most obvious one, but do we really think about it enough? There used to be more outrage against this kind of stuff, even from within the hip-hop community in the early 90’s, but it has since completely dominated the genre. As mentioned earlier, when MCs channel burning hot rage, it can be utterly thrilling stuff. But if you want to appreciate Ice Cube’s masterful evocation of paranoia and righteous anger, you have to numb yourself to a barrage of lines that glorify murder, others that put down women in deplorable ways, and still others that are openly hostile to Jews, Koreans, and gays. While Cube was exceptionally offensive for his time, he (along with N.W.A. , etc.) unfortunately provided the blueprint for most hardcore rap today. It even found it’s way into R&B, thanks to “pioneers” like R. Kelly. It’s a simple fact that the rap genre houses some of the most hateful and contemptible lyrics in all of popular music. And this is not coming from a prude. When masculinity is worshipped to such a great extent, it’s no surprise that aggression, intolerance, and male chauvinism would run rampant. Yes, sometimes it’s just for shocks and giggles, like with Tyler the Creator. But even then it reflects the extremes that cynical, emotionally stunted youths have to reach for just for a thrill these days. Alec Empire once said that a collectively bored culture is a breeding ground for fascism. Looking at the rabidly anti-social fan base that Odd Future has picked up, I’m thinking that Alec may have been on to something. And what does it say about us everyday music fans that we totally let all of this poison persist in our culture, and pretend like it’s not there?

Egotism. Narcissism is to some extent inevitable when fame is involved, but it doesn’t find its way into the music in most cases, thank God. Obviously, though, the braggadocio element of hip-hop tradition has cemented a focus on self-love into its music. But is it not wearying to have a genre full of people who are full of themselves? Artists are supposed to evoke emotions and truths relevant to your life, and yet we have these assholes who get rich by talking about themselves. Sure, the audience feeds on that charisma, and conjures their own vicarious power. That’s the fantasy that I mentioned earlier. But the reality is that we’re all listening to these guys talk about how important they are: how great their successes are, how fucked up their childhood was, and how everyone wants to take them down. Perhaps my breaking point for self-aggrandizement was Eminem.  An artist wants me to pay him so that I can listen to him rage and complain about every single problem in his life? It’s stunning that we so eagerly feed the egos of these completely shameless vampires for attention. Again, not reflective of a healthy culture.

Materialism & Hedonism. When I first listened to Andree 3000’s album “The Love Below,” I distinctly remember feeling great disappointment. Despite its promise of transcending the conventions of hip-hop, there’s an important component that made it very much of a piece with most of the genre: it’s all about material pleasure. Same goes for Big Boi, who recently made a song with the chorus: Let me see your titties, let me see your titties, She said Okay / Let me see your pussy, let me see your pussy, She said Okay…” Similarly, A$AP Rocky has a new track that goes “Pussy, money, weed, it’s all a nigga need.” And none of this is new. It goes all the way back to Rapper’s Delight, with Big Bank Hank bragging about his Super Sperm, and Run DMC sporting Adidas. It’s just grown more pervasive and more crass. Hip-hop used to be mostly about community building through shared activities, but now it’s just about money, cash, hoes, and purple swag. You’d think that the more sophisticated guys like Phife Dogg and Q-Tip would be above such base pleasures, but no: they don’t care about much beyond pussy and hip-hop. Of course, no one artist is required or expected to advocate a more fulfilling lifestyle, but the problem is that this emptiness is everywhere in the genre, and has made the crass materialism of pop and R&B even worse.

Superficiality. Not everyone basks in the glories of material wealth, but they reveal their shallowness in other ways, such as an obsession with pop and entertainment culture. This was mentioned when discussing the use of similes and metaphors, but it’s worth revisiting. So many important things happen around the world: political unrest and scientific breakthroughs at the broadest level; religious revelation and relationship struggles on a smaller level. And yet, if he’s not talking about how important he is, how rich he is, how big his dick is, or how tough he is, an MC will spend most of his time referencing things like Quarter Pounders, Sega Genesis, Marvin the Martian, Wheel of Fortune, and Chia pets. Basically, he dons the icons of pop culture like Run DMC flaunted those Adidas. At times, this can be charming, but as a whole it reflects a musical culture that is almost completely vacuous. A culture that rewards and creates hoards of boring, shallow people obsessed with labels, nostalgia, and creature comforts.

I’m really waiting for the day when some charismatic MC has the courage to break out from this apathetic bubble of conformity and use hip-hop as a force for positive cultural change. To be fair, acts like Public Enemy, KRS-One, Arrested Development, the Roots, and Dead Prez have aimed for a more respectable cultural impact. But of course, even if they’re not also guilty of bigotry and misogyny (Public Enemy) or egotism (KRS-One), please see #1 and #2.


As mentioned before, art is designed to evoke feeling, and the best art forces its audience to confront aspects of life that are difficult, yet need to be acknowledged before insight and consolation can be cultivated. Good art is therefore like a form of physical therapy (meta-physical therapy!): it’s not always easy or enjoyable, but it’s necessary for the healing the wounds of existential stress. Entertainment, on the other hand, merely numbs our pain. It can be quite useful in moderation, but it only distracts us from our symptoms, and leaves our larger problems unaddressed. This is hip-hop in a nutshell. It’s entertainment in the form of matter-of-fact narratives of a desired persona, filled with either lurid, hateful, or just banal and superficial esoteric details.

Maybe now you’re thinking stuff like: Well, what about the Rolling Stones? They were misogynistic, hedonistic, and egotistic too! Yes, it is true that certain songs of the Stones are all of those things, but they at least make up for those failings with some great displays of naked emotion or poetic musings on morality. So even if I ignore some of their stuff, I can feel enriched by Wild Horses or Sympathy for the Devil. And, as I mentioned, this is not a charge against any particular artist, but a diagnoses of hip-hop as a genre and culture.

I really think that hip-hop is perfectly suited to be the highest kind of Art. In fact, the style lends itself well to intense emotional states, with hypnotic rhythms and otherworldly sounds that could transport the listener to unexplored planes of consciousness. But right now, hip-hop is stunted: mostly by its ties to entertainment culture (but also to macho culture). The same could be said for a lot of other aspects of our culture today: movies, TV shows, video games, books, internet sites: these media are largely regarded as sources of entertainment. We want to be soothed and distracted. We want empowering fantasies rather than uncomfortable realities. And I myself indulge in these creature comforts, probably much more than I should.

But I do certainly know the value of a good artist, and can distinguish art from entertainment, even if it’s more in terms of a ratio of the two rather than a blanket label. Right now is a time where I have been clinging to powerful, inspiring works of art. And right now is when the artistic impotence of the hip-hop artists I typically enjoy seems most apparent. This isn’t an elitist or Rockist criticism. Perhaps it’s a religious criticism. In any event, I’m praying for a change…

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