The Roots of Rap Music and
Hip-Hop Culture: One Perspective
by Yvonne Bynoe President
Urban Think Tank, Inc.
Rap music is part of a continuum of the experiences of black people
in America. But, despite the political insights rap music often presents,
it is not inherently political, radical or revolutionary. This music along
with its associated hip-hop culture was developed as a source of entertainment
for poor and working-class black and Latino youth in New York City. The
paradox of rap music is that while it often alerts the public to problems
concerning Black Americans, the values and behaviors frequently promoted
in rap lyrics and hip-hop culture may actually exacerbate those very problems.
Born in the South Bronx in the early 1970s from the musical innovations
and political activism of the late 1960s, rap music and hip-hop culture
has become a multi-billion dollar industry facing critical questions of
artistic and cultural integrity. The original rap music audience was primarily
poor and working-class black and Latino teenagers. Today, anecdotal accounts
portray the hip-hop community as multiracial and multi-generational, and
no longer necessarily poor or working class, although rap artists overwhelmingly
still come from these backgrounds. Middle- and upper-middle-class African
Americans interested in this form of cultural expression, however, are
more likely to support the "spoken word" or poetry movement, which many
view as more intellectual and "positive." Indeed, within the spoken word
movement itself, some spoken-word artists embrace hip hop as their aesthetic
foundation, while others shun it.
Hip Hop began when DJs, audiophiles and technical wizards who collected
records and searched all musical genres for new beats, developed such innovations
as "scratching" and "sampling" that enabled them to signify on the messages
of recorded music or to create entirely new music from the records. Lyricists
played supporting roles as ghetto philosophers, telling tales of life,
fortune and love, and graffiti artists provided the visual backdrop for
hip-hop’s evolution. Initially, this street culture was almost exclusively
black; and thus this commonality encouraged young, gifted and black hip-hop
performers to assert the fundamental elements of a black cultural identity
inherent in their upbringings.
By the time the Sugar Hill Gang’s "Rapper’s Delight" hit the radio
airwaves in 1979, rap music and hip-hop culture had been thriving underneath
the commercial radar for almost a decade. By the mid-1980s it had been
fully discovered by the forces of commerce, notably MTV, and white middle-
and upper-middle-class youth. Data from the computerized sales tracking
system used by middle-to-large record retailers indicates that now 71 percent
of rap music consumers in America today are white and approximately 29
percent are black and Latino. This data has justified rap music as being
marketed to appeal to a white consumer market–despite the fact that the
industry’s tracking system, by excluding record purchases made at "mom
and pop" record stores that can’t afford to install the tracking system,
doesn’t accurately gauge the buying capacity and tastes of black and Latino
rap fans.
Whites are drawn to rap music made by black artists–who, along with
the music, represent the flagrant disregard for authority and social norms
that they no longer find in rock and roll. Thus if rap music and hip hop
became more "white," it might lose its appeal to a significant segment
of white fans. This offers a critical prism through which to view the success
of white rap artist Eminem. In nearly thirty years of rap music history,
there have only been four successful white acts, Vanilla Ice, The Beastie
Boys, Third Base, and now Eminem, although it must be said that Emimen
differs from his white predecessors in that he tells his story–that of
a poor white boy from Detroit–rather than simply aping or spoofing black
rap artists. Although black talent and black interpretations of American
life still dominate hip-hop culture in the media, black rap fans increasingly
find themselves marginalized in the public dialogue of who and what constitutes
hip hop. The related issue is whether rap music and hip-hop culture can
really be egalitarian in a society still plagued by racial discrimination.
If whites are by and large the hip-hop industry’s owners and gatekeepers,
and blacks are primarily the hired talent, does this configuration constitute
new racial harmony or is it simply an updated version of the same old power
structure? The concerns of black and Latino youth remain different from
those of white youth, if for no other reason than intractability of racial
discrimination. In other words, can hip hop, which now aggressively targets
white fans, simultaneously represent the interests of poor- and working-class
black and Latino youth? As the music industry’s rap music customer has
morphed during the past decade from black and Latino urban youth into white
suburban youth, it has fixated on renegade black rap artists who epitomize
the anti-social behavior preferred by rebellious white youth. Thus, instead
of "conscious" rap artists like Common and Mos Def, or political rap artists
like dead prez, who discuss the empowerment of the black community, the
music industry tends to more heavily promote those who celebrate individualism,
lavish lifestyles, promiscuity and criminality. This approach, rather than
inspiring hip hop to be progressive or educational, is actually reactionary,
reinforcing old stereotypes.
Many within the hip-hop generation believe that the country’s leadership
has used rap music as a scapegoat to avoid doing the hard work of actually
changing the circumstances of poor- and working-class black people in this
country. In order to change the messages of rap music and hip-hop culture,
the circumstances from which they spring must first be changed. This means
working with the hip-hop community to foster a dignity and humanity in
the ’hoods, wards and barrios of America through the development of substantially
improved schools, health care, employment and housing opportunities, and
child care and counseling services. Rap music and hip-hop culture can be
agents of change if people are willing to look beyond its hard façade
and inelegant language in order to fully examine what really needs to be
done in America.
Their Characteristic Music:
Thoughts on Rap Music and Hip-Hop Culture
by David W. Brown Associate
Editor of The State of Black America
If it’s true that African-American music is inextricably linked
to African-American history, then examining hip-hop music is crucial to
understanding the under-35 generation of African Americans. Because this
music reflects the environment, artistry, ambitions, fears, and possibilities
of young black people, it also sheds light on some of the enduring incongruities
of American race relations. Rap music has not only withstood two decades
of predictions of its imminent demise, it has soared. Last year its sales
accounted for 12.9 percent of the $14.3 billion national music market,
making it second in popularity only to the 25-percent share held by rock
music. Further, hip-hop culture–an irreverent attitude, a pose, and a way
of talking and behaving–has deeply influenced American culture in myriad
ways: through music videos, movies, fashion, technology, the entire canon
of consumer advertising, and sports. Thus, hip hop, the innovation of black
youth who lacked the resources to assemble a band that used expensive instruments,
is a testament to the resourcefulness and inventiveness of Black America’s
post-civil rights era generation.
Hip hop also demonstrates the continuing tendency among black people
toward self-reinvention. And its increasing growth and mainstream popularity
shows that black youth are maintaining an old tradition: they are again
America's music and cultural vanguard. Hip hop’s crossover appeal has been
readily apparent since the mid-1980s, and, despite its birth and continued
rootedness in gritty inner-city neighborhoods, it has also begun to echo
the rise of the black middle class and this demographic group’s increasing
visibility in American life.
Nonetheless, some aspects of hip-hop culture have always been troubling.
The reason is that rap reflects some of the most serious dilemmas facing
these young African Americans–such as the staggering incarceration of young
black men (and, increasingly, women), the persistent lack of meaningful
opportunity, and the casual veneration of violence, misogyny, and other
forms of social pathology. Three of the most disturbing trends in the music
are its fetish for crime and violence, obsession with materialism, and
degrading treatment of women. Gangsta rap, a catchall phrase to describe
music in thrall to these trends, also expresses an obsessive devotion to
materialism–some songs sound like a rhyming catalogue of high-end consumer
goods; and disturbingly often gangsta rap lyrics paint the ideal male lifestyle
as one of pimping, and malign women as whores who will do anything for
money. On the one hand, gangsta rap can be defended. Many gangsta rappers
are simply expressing the circumstances in which they have been raised:
It is useful to recall that Amiri Baraka characterized the bebop style
of jazz as "willfully harsh and anti-assimilationist" music that was born
out of black frustration with white America. Gangsta rap can be described
similarly. Furthermore, rappers, and their music-industry promoters, are
not only reflecting the values of the inner city; they are in tune with
mainstream trends. Sex sells everywhere in America today, and the unprecedented
economic booms of the 1980s and 1990s fueled an extraordinary preoccupation
with gaudiness throughout society. Moreover, outlaws, both fictional and
real, have long fascinated America. The criminal braggadocio that infuses
gangsta rap helps to sell millions of these albums in the suburbs; not
surprisingly, the bitterness, raw anger, and rejection of middle-class
values in this genre of music make it even more appealing to rebellious
and disaffected white youth.
However, these rationalizations for the increasing popularity of
controversial hip-hop music can be countered with justifiable concerns
about the coarsening of American culture and the searing images and sounds
of depravity to which impressionable young people are exposed. That’s one
reason hip hop is also a fault line that divides African Americans of different
ages; it is keenly disparaged by many blacks over 35. How best to address
such concerns is difficult to answer for a society that prizes First Amendment
ideals of free speech and freedom of expression, and celebrates the free
market. Yet, reflective of a deep-rooted tradition in black music, an extraordinary dimension of rap music and hip-hop culture is that the most insightful and effective commentary can be found within the genre itself.
After years of wandering in the gangsta wilderness, there are signs
that hip hop is addressing more pressing topics than diamonds and guns.
Today, some of the best critique of the gangsta rap mentality of American
social problems comes from more "conscious" hip-hop artists who emphasize
that these social dilemmas are obstacles to be overcome, and that the African-American tradition is rich with examples of high achievement. Some of these artists, such as Mos Def, have also noted that the gangsta image is "minstrelsy
because that's what white people want to believe about us–that it's about
'money, cash, hos' for all of us." Others condemn anti-intellectualism
and warn that the gangsta lifestyle is likely to lead to self-destruction,
or advise that the pursuit of spiritual enrichment is more rewarding than
material gain. And by avoiding the temptation to get paid by using their
talents to celebrate urban nihilism, these musicians are providing an example
of personal integrity and social responsibility for their generation. They
demonstrate that it's possible to have a hit single that is positive without
sounding preachy, profound and not profane. Together with the current resurgence
of a more soulful, more conscious form of rhythm ‘n’ blues, hip hop's earnest
backlash against gangsta rap is a good indication that some part of the
under-35 generation is more community-oriented than its critics may realize.
There will always be a market for gangsta rap, because what it expresses
is as American as cherry pie. But the black musical tradition continues
to reverberate with the moral resiliency and artistic creativity of the
African-American spirit.
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