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…
