hip hop

Hip Hop Desis: South Asian Americans, Blackness, and a Global Race Consciousness

mandy — Tue, 25 Jan 2011 20:00:00 +0000

If the Asian American contribution to hip-hop has been largely invisible, South Asian American rap artists, here including those whose families came from India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, Nepal, and Fiji, have received a surprising amount of critical attention focused on re-conceptualizing race and the increasingly universal appeal of contemporary Black popular culture. On the heels of Ajay Nair and Murali Balaji’s 2009 study Desi Rap: Hip Hop and South Asian America comes Hip Hop Desis , an ethnographic analysis of a group of South Asian American rappers and the shared experience of those living in “racially marked bodies.”

The artists Nitasha Tamar Sharma studies “craft new ways of being desi, or alternative desiness, by drawing upon the concept of Blackness.” She follows David Palumbo-Liu and others in pointing out the dangers of the “model minority myth,” in this case the stereotypical “Asian traits” of respect for authority, cultural assimilation, and advocating education as a means to achieving the “American dream.” The stereotypical young South Asian American presumably is apolitical, white-identified, and non-agitating. Obviously, this conception denies the heterogeneity of desi experience, and these artists have rebelled against the expectations placed upon them and from which they were supposed to negotiate an identity.

Often lacking an ethnic network, many of these young people found a surrogate in African American communities and their artistic expression. Applying a rap technique known as sampling, the artists draw on the cultural currency of hip-hop to construct new, self-chosen identities. “Desiness,” here, signifies political activism, racial consciousness, and a diasporic sense of identity that appropriates the aesthetics and rebelliousness of African American hip-hop. In contrast to cultural expectation, desi emcees openly articulate their experiences with racism, exclusion, and their unique experience of otherness. While those in Sharma’s study typically are surprised to find themselves racially marked in school, the process of claiming a racial identity is deliberate: “as people of color undergoing discrimination, they identify with Blacks and form lifelong relationships with Black people.”

The introduction Sharma provides to these artists and groups offers a sophisticated glimpse at the complex processes involved in the formation of ethnic identities within a hip-hop framework. Unfortunately, for the initiate, examples of the music and performance are relatively difficult to locate online. Two of the featured groups, Himalayan Project and Karmacy, have several appealing and illustrative songs available on YouTube and MySpace. Perhaps the most intriguing artist, D’Lo, has posted three videos on his/her Facebook page, all of which illustrate the artist’s inclusion of the politics and semiotics of gender as a part of performance, and the theme of homophobia connected to racism in his/her music.

Sharma’s broader project, which she refers to as comparative racial studies, offers new insight into the nature of inter-ethnic sampling and influences. She warns that the “increasing gaps and conflicts among communities of color in the United States,” as well as the persistence of racism and inequality, make it urgent that we listen to voices such as those of the hip-hop desis.

Written by: Rick Taylor, January 25th 2011

Platinum

barbara — Fri, 10 Dec 2010 00:00:00 +0000

By Aliya S. King

Touchstone Books

One thing to know about Platinum is that it’s about women in the hip-hop industry—several types of women. To narrow it down, there are four voices compiling the novel, each one narrating a different perspective of the industry, each one fulfilling a particular role. There’s the rapper’s devoted wife who turns a blind eye and tolerates STDs due to his infidelities. We have the powerful mogul who has everything in life (including a koi pond in her home) but only longs for a child. There’s also a hip-hop diva whose retirement at thirty throws everyone by surprise. Lastly, we have the woman supposed to be our heroine, a music journalist involved in a secret engagement to an up-and-coming hip-hop artist. Yet for every heroine there’s a villain and in this case the villain is Cleo, a promiscuous woman who has slept with almost every man in the hip-hop world, including the men involved with each woman mentioned above. The catch? Cleo is writing a tell-all book about her affairs. As she describes in the introduction to her own book, Cleo separates herself from all the “other women”:

“Being with me is an honor. I’m not a commoner. And contrary to popular belief, I don’t have sex with everyone. If you’ve been with me, you’ve achieved something. I’m a benchmark. Like going platinum.”

Platinum gives great insight to the hip-hop world. It describes a tense atmosphere filled with social climbing schemes from four different perspectives. As entertaining as these intertwining plots are, however, the pace is slow and the individual stories an ounce too overdramatic. One problem is that although there are several women, they all sound exactly like one voice. Whether deliberate or not there’s still a feeling of stagnation with all the story lines. All of the women suffer due to their relationships, men being their common woe. Even if they deal with their issues differently, it all narrows down to infidelity and their power to forgive.

With so much drama and so many characters it would be easy to get caught up in the pace. However, it’s difficult to really care about any of the individual women. Cleo in particular appears one-dimensional: she’s a woman who has pride and joy in wreaking chaos and devastation, yet as readers we never see why since there’s no background to her story and we don’t know why she takes so much joy in inflicting pain. Although she claims to never have been molested or had a troublesome youth it seems unrealistic that a well-adjusted woman would invest all her energy using her sexuality to humiliate women in particular. This is problematic as she catapults the whole novel.

As a whole, Platinum is entertaining in the sense that it describes an exclusive world, the hip-hop world explicitly. This novel is the type of book to read at the beach or during a very long plane ride, almost like a bad (but entertaining) movie that you will never think of or pick up again.

Written by: Jessica Sánchez, December 9th 2010

At Last

admin — Wed, 11 Aug 2010 08:00:00 +0000

By Eternia and MoSS

Fat Beats

It seems counter-intuitive by now that women rappers would rhyme about anything other than leftist politics, feminist ideals, empowerment and sexuality, and anti-corporatism. I’m clearly biased; I listen to Invincible and Missy Elliott and spoken word artists like Ursula Rucker. But in the genre that is righteous, emboldened female hip-hop, Eternia is the reigning Canadian queen. On her new album At Last, along with producer MoSS, she speaks against pay-to-play and sponsorships, confronts an abusive past, and admits she looks for love in all the wrong places.

“Pass That” is a particularly intense track, chronicling one woman’s battle against an abusive religious husband and her sixteen-year-old daughter’s sexual proclivity, reasoning, “She figures they gonna take it so why not pay for that.” Other songs address heavy issues like alcoholism (“Dear Mr. Bacardi”), single motherhood, dropping out of school, running away, molestation, abortion, and gang rape (“To The Future”).

The lyrics are tough, raw, and full of references to race (Eternia is white), competition between women (on “The BBQ,” Fergie is called “corny”), and devotion to God and family. Particularly if you’re a hip-hop fiend, you’ll appreciate “Any Man,” on which Eternia explains how she works hard, regardless of the fame she earns, and often shares the stage with the big names you already know and love. “It’s not cockiness, it’s confidence, it’s what I been through,” she explains. Elsewhere, she drops lines like “The game needs me like Jay-Z.” I may be a big fan of the Jiggaman, but Eternia couldn’t be more correct; we desperately need revolutionary ladies on the charts.

A couple of years ago, Eternia put out a T-shirt that reads, “My favorite rapper wears a skirt,” which I could easily wear with pride. Could you?

Written by: Brittany Shoot, August 11th 2010

/\/\/\Y/\ (Maya)

admin — Wed, 14 Jul 2010 08:22:00 +0000

By M.I.A.

Interscope Records

A week prior to its July 13th release, M.I.A.’s new album, /\/\/\Y/_ (or _Maya), was made available streaming on the artist's MySpace page. The agitprop-meets-cyberpunk video for “Born Free” is the most inspiring thing I’ve seen all year (a clear indication that M.I.A.’s message is as much visual as it is aural), and my guess was that her latest effort would be the most overtly conceptual album that M.I.A. has recorded.

The first track, "The Message," begins with the sound of keyboard strokes that reminded me of early alternative rock heroes R.E.M. and experimental musician John Cage. It creates a rhythmic paranoid beat laid over a mechanical nursery rhyme. A male voice suggests that the body is no longer private property, and spells it out for the “connected” listener: “Headbone connects to the headphone/Headphones connect to the iPhone/iPhone connected to the internet/Connected to the Google/Connected to the government.”

“Steppin Up” will appeal to fans of Kala. It mixes laser and power drill sound effects with a melodic reggae pace while asserting an increasingly cyborgian identity. “Teqkilla” recalls “Boyz” for its hyperactive layers of hip-hop hooks and fluctuating vocals. This is a sexy club song, and would be the closest that M.I.A. settles into mood music.

Although she is stretching choruses and pressing the temporal limits of pop music, M.I.A. still has a knack for constructing tighter melodies, and proves it on “XXXO.” This track is about unrequited love, and calls a potential lover out for his down-low tweets. It’s a beat-heavy examination of familiar odes to obsessive love.

_/\/\/\Y/_ is definitely weirder than M.I.A.'s previous recordings, and it will be interesting to see where critics of her ability to balance political and aesthetic ambitions go with this album. Will the media continue to castigate M.I.A. for going too far beyond the pop star galaxy with her overt political agenda? If so, I just hope M.I.A. doesn't go the way of pop feminist icon Madonna and, in the words of bell hooks, "return to patriarchy."

Cross-posted at Gender Across Borders

Written by: Maria Guzman, July 14th 2010

Bionic

admin — Tue, 15 Jun 2010 00:00:00 +0000

By Christina Aguilera

RCA Records

Christina Aguilera has been a polemic figure since her breakthrough hit "Genie in a Bottle". She has a sexual aesthetic similar to a young Madonna’s, fashion sense like Cher’s, and raw vocal power comparable to a younger Whitney Houston’s. Her albums contain raunchy sexed-up tracks that appeal to sexually blossoming young adults and stately ballads that appeal to their post-menopausal mothers. Power pop, pop rock, R&B, hip-hop, dance, and even a little alt-rock have been found in some form on her albums. It’s a curse and a blessing for Christina that she can sound like anyone and sing almost anything. She’s always been difficult to categorize. Her ability to be so many things has caused critics to chastise her for not having her own unique presence.

The campaign for the collaboration-heavy Bionic began in the blogosphere with the declaration “Aguilera goes indie.” Ladytron, Le Tigre, Goldfrapp, M.I.A., Santigold, John Hill, and Sia all stepped up to the plate when an apprehensive Aguilera (convinced by her husband) reached out to them. The end result is an album that finds Christina caught between two worlds. Before, she seemed to be making the choice between being a serious singer or a pop star. Now, Christina Aguilera must chose between either being an “indie” darling or being the radio star. In the end, she is seemingly much more interesting doing “indie” impersonations than she is making radio ready pop.

The mainstream songs dominate the eighteen-track standard edition of the album and are, unfortunately, the weakest offerings from the Bionic sessions. Tricky Stewart never really replicates his production magic on his hits like “Umbrella” or “Single Ladies.” The Spanglish “Desnudate” sounds as if J.Lo, Pitbull, and Gloria Estefan went on an all night coke binge and decided to log some studio time in the process. The clunky Spanish translations, which seem to have been lifted directly from an online search engine, cause the track to sink even further. "Glam," touted as a modern "Vogue," is a cute but innocuous gay-friendly track that brings to mind Paris is Burning and Sex and the City. “Prima Donna” is slinky, urban, club fodder salvaged only by a confident hood delivery from Xtina, whose singing eerily sounds more and more like Michael Jackson by the bridge of the track.

Polow Da don’s tracks don’t fare much better. “Woo Hoo” (feat. Nicki Minaj), an ode to Christina’s lady parts, is fun, but the production is too sparse and predictable. “I Hate Boys” is a bratty, juvenile kiss-off that is the biggest stylistic misstep for Christina. It’s whooshing, grating production and taunting melody make it seem as if she’s trying to bite at the heels of Katy Perry and Ke$ha. But, this is a Christina Aguilera album, and with a deluxe version boasting twenty-four tracks in total there is still much more here to be examined.

A feel good collaboration with Le Tigre, “My Girls” is delightfully similar in its levity and playfulness. It combines Le Tigre’s penchant for female assertiveness and Christina’s stiletto wearing, ruby-lipped brand of third wave feminism. The product is a funky, lo-fi, disco-y, '90s, Girl Power pop with a Peaches feature and an adorable riot grrrrl shout-out to her collaborators.

With many of these collaborations Aguilera has been criticized for lacking a true identity and “ripping off” these artists, which I think is somewhat unfair. Can you call it “ripping off” if there is a consensual collaboration involved? In my opinion Xtina has been unable to maintain a clear musical identity out of sheer boredom and dynamic virtuosity. Yes, her voice is the only distinguishing feature that ties her albums together, but in her defense, why do one thing when you can do everything?

One burning question remains. How does one listen to such an album with such extreme stylistic differences from song to song? I’d say treat it like a mix-tape. With this number of tracks, various styles, and collaborators it’s safe to say that Christina Aguilera has made an album for the digital age. There are multiple ten-fifteen track albums that can be created from this lot for everyone to enjoy.

This is an excerpt from a much longer, more detailed review that can be found at Electroqueer

Written by: Javi, June 14th 2010

Gotta Dance

admin — Mon, 05 Apr 2010 00:01:00 +0000

Directed by Dori Berinstein

Dramatic Forces

Gotta Dance opens with a scene of an energetic NBA game, with all the halftime mascot antics and acrobatic dance routines we’ve come to expect. But the New Jersey Nets are trying out something different this year. We see the feet of a group learning a dance routine, with the instructor telling them not to slap their butts because it’s a family show, and there’s one thing that makes this new hip-hop dance troupe different from any we’ve seen before: they are all over sixty years old.

We come to know the members of the team as they learn fairly complicated routines and tackle their insecurities being a dance group comprised of senior citizens. They’re not professional dancers; they are just people who love to dance, and want to share that love with each other and with audiences. It’s affirming to see people, who many would not expect to succeed at such an undertaking, tackle their insecurities and pull off the routine wonderfully. The sheer athleticism it takes to do the routines is really astonishing. As someone a fraction of most of these people’s ages, I doubt I could do the routines half as well. Plus, seeing someone’s grandma brush her shoulders off and raise the roof to Jay-Z’s “Show Me What You Got” is quite a sight.

But Gotta Dance isn’t just entertaining for the adorable factor. Betsy, stage name Betty, was already in a hip-hop dance class before joining the squad, and commends hip-hop as “for the masses.” She says she learned how to cut loose through the music and just dance. Betsy even brings hip-hop to a group of children in order to teach them about self-esteem and not putting each other down. Seeing old ladies teaching young kids hip-hop dance steps is cute, but it also says something about how we can use pop culture as a way to reach across generations and find common ground.

Even though, at first, the group members might prefer the cha-cha, they get pure joy out of letting go and just dancing. That joy is really infectious, and the confidence the members of the group, and even their teachers, gain through the experience is inspiring to see. As the elderly population in the United States steadily grows in number, Gotta Dance stands as a document of how this population is becoming involved in what’s thought of as youth culture. It gave me a warm fuzzy feeling, something that’s rare in today's films.

Written by: Dana Reinoos, April 4th 2010

East African Hip Hop: Youth Culture and Globalization

admin — Thu, 04 Feb 2010 17:01:00 +0000

By Mwenda Ntarangwi

University of Illinois Press

Ntarangwi’s book on hip hop culture in East Africa could be used as an academic treatise for music and cultural classes in any university in America. Generally speaking, when we create something, very rarely are we aware of the far-reaching implications that creation may have outside of our immediate scope. Hip hop has been one such creation. Similar to jazz, hip hop was, in part, created out of the need to communicate what did not want to be heard, at first. Put in this matter of fact way, it was only natural that this phenomenon spread across cultures with very similar communication glitches.

East African Hip Hop succinctly details the impact hip hop has had on the East African population, as well as the impact East African hip hop artists are having on youth in their respective communities. Ntarangwi opens with the effects of globalization and youth culture in East Africa. Globalization has often resulted in an entire continent being left out of a process of ideas and decisions that factor in the value of their resources, while devaluing the people that could benefit the most. The remnants of colonialism and neocolonialism are embedded into the psyches of those that profit, as well as those that are taken advantage of in this profitization. Indirect rule, which is often synonymous with “puppet,” makes it difficult to tell which leaders desire to act in the best interests of their constituents, especially when they are all of the same color. This tactic was a major part of colonialism and is one distinctive aspect that affects what is communicated across cultures. However, in the U.S., the assumption of who the perpetrators are rarely ventures outside of historical context. With Ntarangwi’s use of Malcolm X as an example, what is seen as a struggle against White supremacy in American hip hop is seen as a struggle for land ownership and access in East African hip hop. The indoctrination of Western values and its bootstrap mentality are also what have colored communication.

The HIV/AIDS epidemic in Africa has given rise to an increase in the number of songs about its concern by East African hip hop artists, as well as societal issues concerning gender and tradition. Even with this increase, the tradition of chastity, or the appearance of it by women, has typically made the topic of sexuality a silent one, for fear of the repercussions of challenging cultural mores. East African hip hop is changing this perception as well.

Ntarangwi touches on so many important issues that have propagated the spread of hip hop into a portion of the world that has, up until recently, been kept silent. A portion of the world that has been silent both forcibly and because only now is the medium of hip hop one of the most powerful ways with which to get a message across. Ntarangwi has effectively expounded upon a subject matter that can no longer be silenced.

Written by: Olupero R. Aiyenimelo, February 4th 2010

The Gospel of Hip Hop: The First Instrument

admin — Thu, 21 Jan 2010 01:00:00 +0000

By KRS-ONE

powerHouse Books

Just as jazz is a uniquely American phenomenon whose sentiment and message resonate with people the world round, so is hip-hop. Hip-hop began as a means by which to illustrate the experiences of people living their daily lives in the ‘hoods of New York. Although the originators of hip-hop, such as the Sugar Hill Gang were instrumental in shedding light on teen pregnancy, drug addiction, and violence it wasn’t until the era of KRS-One that hip-hop evolved to the status of Cultural Revolution. KRS-One, best known as Teacha, brought hip-hop to the mainstream. Although in his early days his work with Boogie Down Productions (BDP) was more violent in nature, after the tragic loss of his BDP partner, DJ Scott LaRock, his work evolved into a peaceable lyrical style that called the masses to confront social ills head on. With his politically savvy, multicultural take on what he was witnessing in his environs he touched upon that longing within us all to be free. Hip-hop is, at its core, about freedom.

Yet, freedom is not free and it is the struggle that is highlighted in The Gospel of Hip Hop. True to its name, the Gospel of hip-hop provides the reader with a good word about the value garnered only by overcoming obstacles. Hip-hop, although invented in America, has become an internationally appreciated musical form because it is more than just music. In this tome KRS-One provides the reader with plenty of teaching on peace and love which breaks down barriers, removes prejudice, and reconciles injustice.

For example, in the opening section, of this book the Teacha states: "But as for us, as for our group commonly known in the World as 'Hip Hop,' this gospel acknowledges and celebrates the Love that has saved OUR people from self destruction. It is time to repent and grow up! Rapping about crime and murder may sound good amongst those who have never committed such acts, but for those of us who are REAL IN THE FIELD, we send this message to our young people—YOU DON’T REALLY WANT IT!"

And on the following page: "For with this first instrument we remember GOD and how we were rescued by unseen forces more powerful than any government on Earth. For when all seemed hopeless and oppression seemed permanent; a caring, protective, nurturing creative force independent of all the World’s political, business, educational and religious institutions, swept through our hearts and homes and we were rescued from sickness, hatred, ignorance and poverty with a behavior that we eventually began to call 'Hip Hop.' And we must NEVER forget this.”

Hip-hop is life, hip-hop is freedom, hip-hop is revolution. KRS-One has brought to light the cure for what ails us all: heart sickness, the residual effect of the subjugation of one group of people by another group of people. Whether those groups are divided by gender, race, religion, socio-economic status, age, or educational attainment they are all expressions of hatred and ignorance. The only solution for which is love. As Al Green so eloquently stated “Love is the message and the message is love”.

Written by: Susan G. Reyes Vasquez, January 20th 2010

One Love

admin — Fri, 08 Jan 2010 09:00:00 +0000

By David Guetta

Astralwerks

French DJ and producer David Guetta’s One Love is a dream come true for dance and electronica fans who like hip-hop too. With the smash hits “When Love Takes Over,” featuring Kelly Rowland on vocals, and the auto-tune-saturated “Sexy Bitch,” with Akon, Guetta has placed himself at the forefront of what seems to be a new movement of hip-hop artists showing up on dance records.

Guetta went beyond his strong club fan base and reached a wider audience in 2007 with the hit “Love is Gone,” which got the attention of other artists His collaboration with the Black Eyed Peas on “I Gotta Feeling” resulted in his first number one single in the U.S. The boring FMIF remix is on One Love, along with two other appearances from Will.I.Am: “On the Dancefloor” (also with apl.de.ap of the Black Eyed Peas), is perfect for club heads with its pulsating beat, but the chaotic and annoying “I Wanna Go Crazy” goes nowhere. The same can be said for the Ne-Yo and Kelly Rowland song “Choose.”

In an interview with a British magazine a few months ago, Guetta said he kept hearing from so many artists who felt “trapped in a formula” and were “looking for the music of tomorrow.” He called the sound they began to develop, this mixture of dance and hip-hop, “electro-hop.” Cause for concern if you’re a hip-hop fan worried about the direction our beloved art form—already in trouble—is taking.

Guetta’s work with Kid Cupri on “Memories” is actually worth hearing, although the real standouts are the title song with Estelle’s smooth vocals, and the still hard to resist “When Love Takes Over.” (Is it the backing piano lifted straight from Coldplay’s “Clocks?" Could it be the pleasantly predictable buildup?)

In that same interview, Guetta says that dance music in America has for many years remained a “black, gay underground thing,” but that’s changing now with artists like Kanye West and Timbaland borrowing from house music—an interesting statement since it can be argued that house music was birthed from hip-hop. As one of those concerned hip-hop fans I mentioned earlier, a little “borrowing” doesn’t worry me, but overkill does. Guetta’s mission to resurrect dance music and rule American pop is clear. The future of hip-hop, if too many of its artists ride the “electro-hop” wave, is not.

Written by: Natalie Maxwell, January 8th 2010

The Revival

admin — Wed, 06 Jan 2010 04:07:00 +0000

Directed by Invincible

Emergence Media

In October 2009, hip-hop was declared dead yet again by music critic and New Yorker writer Sasha Frere-Jones. (Nas did it first three years earlier.) Whenever something is pronounced to be down for the count, however compelling their technical argument may be, I always find myself asking, "What is this person missing?" By focusing on the likes of Jay-Z, Frere-Jones is missing The Revival.

Also in 2009, while touring Europe as a part of We-B Girlz, Detroit femcee Invincible began filming the performances and backstage conversation of such worldwide musical luminaries as Roxanne Shante, Bahamadia, Stacy Epps, DJ Shortee, and Eternia. The footage was then compiled by Emergence Media into a seventeen-minute documentary about the way women use their various hip-hop skills—from old school to conscious to groundbreaking shit—to put forward a message about radical politics, spirituality, and social justice. It gives a personal glimpse into the motivations of a few women who do their thing outside of the mainstream scene.

Hip-hop isn't dead. It's just that the good stuff doesn't have (or want) the corporate cash necessary to get a write up in The New Yorker.

Written by: Mandy Van Deven, January 6th 2010

Persona

admin — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 01:00:00 +0000

By Queen Latifah

Flavor Unit Records

I just completed a music review about how important I thought it was for the fans to evolve with the artist. Perhaps I put my foot in my mouth. I guess I should preface this review by saying that I am a huge fan of Queen Latifah. I am not, however, a huge fan of Persona.

I like to break music up into layers of how I enjoy it; those layers consist of lyrics, vocals, music, and production. Hands down, Queen Latifah can sing, and I can even appreciate the lyrics on some of the tracks. The music and production leave something to be desired.

This current project seems to pervade a sense of resiliency in the entertainment industry, in love, and in life. Queen Latifah gives propers to her home state of New Jersey and other notables who hail from the state in "The Light." "Fast Car" features classic Missy Elliot in all her naughtiness. "Hard To Love Ya," featuring Busta Rhymes, Shawn Stockman, and Dre, is one of the standout songs. "People," featuring Mary J. Blige, is another track worth the listen. Lyrically, I enjoyed "Long Ass Week" and "Runnin", but musically, I was not impressed.

Overall, I could appreciate where I think Queen Latifah was coming from with the many roles she portrayed musically on this effort. Her vocals are always outstanding, but lyrically and musically, Persona falls short. The production is unremarkable with the cookie-cutter synthesized voice-overs, which are unnecessary given Queen Latifah’s beautiful vocals.

I am used to seeing Queen Latifah as an innovator, with her 1989 debut, All Hail The Queen, serving as the foundation. She is one of the only female hip hop artists—wait, she is the only female hip hop artist—who has been able to weather the dreary storm of longevity in the entertainment industry in such a strong fashion. Queen Latifah has donned many roles in her career and her success in this industry makes evolution inevitable. I, however, could not evolve with this one. Maybe I’ll wait for her next effort while I remove my foot from my mouth.

Written by: Olupero R. Aiyenimelo, December 22nd 2009

By the Throat

admin — Wed, 02 Dec 2009 01:42:00 +0000

By Eyedea and Abilities

Rhymesayers Entertainment

I have a difficult time choosing music. On the one hand, I have respect for those who are masters of their craft. On the other hand, I identify with heartfelt lyrics and an impassioned performance. Finding musicians who are both masterful and vulnerable is like finding a unicorn. These rare individuals are listened to for decades and deemed timeless.

Within seconds of listening, it is easy to determine that Eyedea is a highly-skilled DJ. He blends hip hop and rock in a way that is both seamless and surprisingly unique. For this alone, I give him a gold star. Don't be alarmed by the genre I've described; this is not your typical frat boy "rock rap" by any means. For example, his song "Spin Cycle" has some very Radiohead-esque moments.

Vocally, he's on fire. He can spit words easily and with an even flow. There's a vulnerability in his voice, though many of the lyrics on this album seem amorphous. All of these songs will make your head nod, but "Burn Fetish" stands out as the track that combines the best of Eyedea's abilities and the most honest of sentiment. "Love is just a chemical by any other name" and "You're so much like me, I feel sorry for you" are just a few of the countless choice lines in this song.

My favorite track is "Smile" because it is mellow, melodic, and hopeful. I selfishly wish he would make a whole separate album that sounds more like this track. I also wish he would do more musical interludes sans the vocals. No offense to his lyrical storytelling by any means; I just enjoy the sound he drums up in-between the words.

By the Throat would be a great soundtrack for driving, sleepless nights, or getting through a difficult burden that you're obligated to work out.

Written by: Jacquie Piasta, December 1st 2009

Jay Stay Paid

admin — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 01:00:00 +0000

By J Dilla

Nature Sounds

Throughout his short career renowned hip hop producer, DJ, and rapper J Dilla (a.k.a. James Dewitt Yancey) maintained a vault of unreleased tracks. Three years after passing away from Lupus-related complications, a sampling of his unfinished work has been compiled into a full-length album, a project helmed by his mother (known as "Ma Dukes") and acclaimed producer Pete Rock. The twenty-eight tracks are plucked from different periods in history, spanning from the start of the decade when Dilla collaborated with powerhouse producer Madlib, to tracks written near the end of his career from his hospital bed.

Jay Stay Paid features a variety of beats, most of them clocking in at under two minutes. Influences are diverse; tracks like "I Told Y'all" and "CaDILLAc" are reminiscent of Wu Tang Clan's gritty street stylings, and "Blood Sport" is dance hall friendly. "Mythsyzer," which borrows a voice-over from Busta Rhymes, and "KJay" are experimental tracks that call to mind Dilla's previously-released, ethereal hit "Nothing Like This." "Reality Check" is an insightful social commentary that features the vocals of Black Thought. It's one of the only tracks on the album that feels complete, and it is indicative of Dilla's sharp and informed style.

Intermixed throughout are DJ voice-overs and radio show dialogue—the album very much feels like a mix tape. While the individual tracks on this album are very, very good, Jay Stay Paid is not an album for the masses. Rather, it is a sort of anthropological study—the legacy of an artist gone too soon. That is not to say that Jay Stay Paid is lacking. The album is very much a J Dilla compilation—every track is fueled with the energy, urgency, and relevancy that propelled Dilla to fame in the first place.

A respectable memorial, Jay Stay Paid pays tribute to Dilla's range of talent and provides a glimpse into what future works of art he could have accomplished had he only been given the chance.

Written by: Cheryl Santa Maria, November 1st 2009

Hiding in Hip Hop: On The Down Low in the Entertainment Industry—From Music to Hollywood

admin — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 16:09:00 +0000

By Terrance Dean

Atria Books

Terrance Dean opens his book, Hiding in Hip Hop, with two quotes, one from Ellen Degeneres, in which she states, “If it weren’t for blacks, Jews, and gays, there would be no Oscars.” The other was from The Bhagavad Gita: “It is better to live your own destiny imperfectly than to live an imitation of somebody else’s life with perfection.” With so many ways to approach this book, the latter quote is the way in which I chose to do so.

Dean gives a personal account of the trials, tragedies, and triumphs of growing up as a gay Black man, inside a world that adamantly refuses to accept his existence. Things would be tragic enough if, on the quest for a healthy identity, one had to sift out the sickness of a drug-abusing mother who, along with two brothers, dies of AIDS. A forced and self-imposed separation from family, and the discovery of a sexuality not approved of by the proverbial church that houses wolves in sheep’s clothing, add to experiences that have forced others to become a statistic.

As the title of the book suggests, Dean’s passion for hip-hop propelled him to pursue a career in an environment where his sexuality is like an oxymoron. Dean still adheres to the code of maintaining a “tell and be killed” secrecy in addressing those who are queer, respected, and revered in the hip hop world. In a world where even a hint of being gay can relegate one to lifelong ostracism, Dean is careful to play by the rules and still tell his story with brute and poignant honesty.

The Degeneres’ quote that opens the book is important because she acknowledges not only the contributions made by a group she belongs to, but also those made by two groups to which she does not. It is important because there needs to be the realization that the greatest contributions to society are not defined by sexuality. If there’s a cure for cancer, how many of you will refuse it because you don’t approve of the curer’s sexuality?

The second quote Dean used discussed living one’s own life, not that of someone else. He revealed how difficult it was to hide his sexuality, his desire to openly express his love for another man, and be fully embraced by a culture to which he so profoundly contributed. He perfected the imitation of a straight man at the cost of his spiritual, emotional, and physical well-being. By the book ended, although still healing from these issues, Dean is now unapologetically choosing to work on the perfection of his own life.

Written by: Olupero R. Aiyenimelo, October 28th 2009

New Muslim Cool

admin — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 04:10:00 +0000

Directed by Jennifer Maytorena Taylor

POV Films

You might come to this film with some knowledge of hip-hop, or you might not. You might even have some knowledge of Islam, too. Neither is required, however, because New Muslim Cool is, when you get right down to it, a story of a man trying hard to know and be himself in the world.

Jennifer Maytorena Taylor gives us Hamza Pérez (formerly Jason), a Puerto Rican Muslim from the streets of Boston who, along with his Muslim community from Beantown, has transplanted himself to Pittsburgh, PA to start a mosque and put down some roots. Hamza is also a hip-hop artist, and he and his brother Suliman call their rap group Mujahideen Team (aka “M-Team”). Early in the film they joke that while they don’t speak much Arabic, they do know “Arabic Spanglish Ebonics.” As a former drug dealer who converted to Islam at twenty-one, Taylor frames the film with Hamza’s description of having two recurring dreams in his life: in one, he goes to jail, and in the other, he dies. He claims that “they both came true,” though not in ways he would have thought.

Throughout the film, we see Hamza working tirelessly to negotiate the seemingly disparate layers of his life, which includes managing the unintended social consequences of his hip-hop lyrics—think Immortal Technique—on his job as an interfaith prison chaplain. Without giving too much away, Taylor’s eighty-six-minute film brings Hamza’s journey as a husband, father, son, brother, artist, and man of faith into your living room in a way that will fully engross and inspire reflection—regardless of where you are coming from spiritually.

Written by: Heather Brown, October 28th 2009