July 30, 2007
COVER STORY
Defenders of Hip Hop
 |
Gift of Gab talks about the glory days of hip hop what's wrong with rap today
"The new generation of hip-hoppers and rappers just didn't grow up with the sense of culture we have... to them, it's just a business; a way of making money."
Sadly, truer words haven't been spoken. Sadder yet is the fact that these words were uttered by Gift of Gab, one-half of the inimitable Blackalicious crew and-one third of Friday's crazy sick hip-hop throwdown at the Filmore at the TLA.
To hear such negativity emanating from one of the genre's ambassadors of social consciousness is somewhat dismaying. On the other hand, his follow-up lends a bit of credence to hip-hoptimists.
"Hip hop is simply in the downward turn of its cycle right now. I have no doubt it will right itself."
A glimmer of hope emerges from the depths of the abyss.
Let's be honest here - hip hop is not riding the crest of a wave of positive publicity these days. Gangsta rap and the Dirty South thugs have ensured this, giving the genre quite a shiner as of late.
That, my friends, is a damn shame.
"When we were growing up, hip hop was more than an industry," says Gab. "It was an institution. You had your elements: graffiti writers, breakdancers, MCs and DJs. It was a culture we came to embrace. We were all in it together. Nowadays it's like a cash-based competition. That completely destroys the spirit of hip hop's origins."
When I tell strangers I write about hip hop, the sledge hammer of judgment is almost palpable. Immediately, I feel the weight of a thousand DMXs and 50 Cents crashing about me. It's truly disheartening.
Until, that is, I go home and plant some Blackalicious or Aceyalone in my disc changer and actually LISTEN to what these cats have to say. The power of the spoken word is magnified dramatically when put to music and this is a fact that is not lost on these gentlemen.
"When we were young and being schooled in the hip-hop culture, beefs were settled over battles - lyrical or breakin' battles - instead of gunfire," notes Gab. "We need to restore the purity and innocence to the scene these days."
Gab raises a point that's tough to argue. Take a trip in your own wayback machine and throw Wild Style, Beat Street or Style Wars in your Netflix queue. The pureness of hip hop's true and original essence oozes through these flicks enough to render even the casual observer misty-eyed over the lost sense of innocence in Black urban culture.
The way things have progressed, even the color barrier has been effectively shattered in hip hop.
One of the genre's most successful groups, the Beastie Boys, are three white Jewish boys from Brooklyn and one of the more controversial contemporary rappers, Eminem, is a pasty white kid from Detroit.
As another famous Jew said, "The times, they are a-changin'."
Unfortunately, Bob Dylan's words do little to repair the gaping hole that remains in hip hop's guest room wall in the house of American music.
The thuggery and gangsta attitudes still rule the roost in the hip hop pantheon and the bitches and bling still overshadow the positivity and lyrical trickery showcased by the likes of Gift of Gab and Aceyalone.
Hopefully that Dylan cat had a point. Perhaps the times, well, they are STILL a-changin' and hip hop will finally snitch on its own, snuffing out the pessimists and deadbeats that so effectively stifle the positive messages put forth by cultural advocates like those featured on Friday's stage.
Hell, maybe the youth - and not just the urban (read: black) - will latch on to such tunes as Blackalicious's Chemical Calisthenics as a means to mnemonically devise the Periodic Table.
Then again, maybe it's all a pipe dream. Maybe I'll be forced to continually defend my decision to dedicate my life to writing about hip hop. Maybe Aceyalone will eventually have to accept a technical writing gig and perhaps Gab will be whittled down to doing voice-overs to pay the bills.
Somehow, though, I doubt that.
Gab didn't pour his heart and soul into forming Quannum Projects only to end up as a footnote on IMDB. Aceyalone certainly didn't shun corporate America only to return to it with his tail stashed firmly between his legs. I, for one, revel in defending hip hop's honor as if she were my best gal.
When it comes down to it, there's a certain intangible love that keeps all of us in this crazy (and seemingly unwinnable) game. It's a very simple love of the craft.
Gab may have said it best in Rhyme Like a Nut: I'm rhymin' for the love of it and never for the rent."
Z-Trip
with Gift of Gab
Aceyalone, DJ Phoreyz and DJ Stumble
When: Fri., Aug. 3, 9pm. $20
Where: Fillmore at the TLA, 336 South Street.
Info: livenation.com, 215-922-1011
Sadly, truer words haven't been spoken. Sadder yet is the fact that these words were uttered by Gift of Gab, one-half of the inimitable Blackalicious crew and-one third of Friday's crazy sick hip-hop throwdown at the Filmore at the TLA.
To hear such negativity emanating from one of the genre's ambassadors of social consciousness is somewhat dismaying. On the other hand, his follow-up lends a bit of credence to hip-hoptimists.
"Hip hop is simply in the downward turn of its cycle right now. I have no doubt it will right itself."
A glimmer of hope emerges from the depths of the abyss.
Let's be honest here - hip hop is not riding the crest of a wave of positive publicity these days. Gangsta rap and the Dirty South thugs have ensured this, giving the genre quite a shiner as of late.
That, my friends, is a damn shame.
"When we were growing up, hip hop was more than an industry," says Gab. "It was an institution. You had your elements: graffiti writers, breakdancers, MCs and DJs. It was a culture we came to embrace. We were all in it together. Nowadays it's like a cash-based competition. That completely destroys the spirit of hip hop's origins."
When I tell strangers I write about hip hop, the sledge hammer of judgment is almost palpable. Immediately, I feel the weight of a thousand DMXs and 50 Cents crashing about me. It's truly disheartening.
Until, that is, I go home and plant some Blackalicious or Aceyalone in my disc changer and actually LISTEN to what these cats have to say. The power of the spoken word is magnified dramatically when put to music and this is a fact that is not lost on these gentlemen.
"When we were young and being schooled in the hip-hop culture, beefs were settled over battles - lyrical or breakin' battles - instead of gunfire," notes Gab. "We need to restore the purity and innocence to the scene these days."
Gab raises a point that's tough to argue. Take a trip in your own wayback machine and throw Wild Style, Beat Street or Style Wars in your Netflix queue. The pureness of hip hop's true and original essence oozes through these flicks enough to render even the casual observer misty-eyed over the lost sense of innocence in Black urban culture.
The way things have progressed, even the color barrier has been effectively shattered in hip hop.
One of the genre's most successful groups, the Beastie Boys, are three white Jewish boys from Brooklyn and one of the more controversial contemporary rappers, Eminem, is a pasty white kid from Detroit.
As another famous Jew said, "The times, they are a-changin'."
Unfortunately, Bob Dylan's words do little to repair the gaping hole that remains in hip hop's guest room wall in the house of American music.
The thuggery and gangsta attitudes still rule the roost in the hip hop pantheon and the bitches and bling still overshadow the positivity and lyrical trickery showcased by the likes of Gift of Gab and Aceyalone.
Hopefully that Dylan cat had a point. Perhaps the times, well, they are STILL a-changin' and hip hop will finally snitch on its own, snuffing out the pessimists and deadbeats that so effectively stifle the positive messages put forth by cultural advocates like those featured on Friday's stage.
Hell, maybe the youth - and not just the urban (read: black) - will latch on to such tunes as Blackalicious's Chemical Calisthenics as a means to mnemonically devise the Periodic Table.
Then again, maybe it's all a pipe dream. Maybe I'll be forced to continually defend my decision to dedicate my life to writing about hip hop. Maybe Aceyalone will eventually have to accept a technical writing gig and perhaps Gab will be whittled down to doing voice-overs to pay the bills.
Somehow, though, I doubt that.
Gab didn't pour his heart and soul into forming Quannum Projects only to end up as a footnote on IMDB. Aceyalone certainly didn't shun corporate America only to return to it with his tail stashed firmly between his legs. I, for one, revel in defending hip hop's honor as if she were my best gal.
When it comes down to it, there's a certain intangible love that keeps all of us in this crazy (and seemingly unwinnable) game. It's a very simple love of the craft.
Gab may have said it best in Rhyme Like a Nut: I'm rhymin' for the love of it and never for the rent."
Z-Trip
with Gift of Gab
Aceyalone, DJ Phoreyz and DJ Stumble
When: Fri., Aug. 3, 9pm. $20
Where: Fillmore at the TLA, 336 South Street.
Info: livenation.com, 215-922-1011
No comments:
Post a Comment