LITR 4333 American Minority Literature UHCL 2005 sample student answers to final exam

For better or worse, hip hop is on the cutting edge of American popular culture. At its best, it forces people (even those outside its audience) to deal with the lyrical content. Great rap is able to stand alone lyrically while bearing a strong resemblance to poetry in the way it is shaped to seize your attention and capture your interest. Great rap lyrics make you want to get out of your seat and move in the same way that poetry coming out of the Harlem Renaissance made you want to fight oppression and racial domination. Great rap flows in verse like Malcolm or Martin did behind a microphone.

But most rap does not fit this mold. Most rap today is artificially created and engineered in a studio for the sole purpose of making money for the huge conglomerates that own the artists and their product. Although there is nothing inherently wrong with capitalist mantra, the result is often a product that lacks authenticity and originality. Rap music has been co-opted by an industry unwilling to associate itself with the genuine form of this musical genre; a style uniquely capable of exposing the unique world in which these rap artists operate. This is a huge reason why rap music has been unable to remain true to its roots as a change agent. Instead it has devolved into a packaged commodity that epitomizes the worst of Black culture and exports it straight into suburbia.

Before I elaborate on the topic, let me address the questions asked in the instructions separately from the rest of the paper. I chose to research the subject of rap music and culture because it deals with so many issues that I am committed to. My extensive musical training has taught me how to recognize talent and appreciate skill. I am not afraid to recognize skilled musicians, even if they are performing a type of music that I don’t personally enjoy. Second, I love to analyze political discourse (more specifically, the lack of discourse in America on social issues). And finally, I have always been interested in the power and complexities of language, no matter the form. And since hip-hop music has skilled craftsmen devoted to discourse and powered by language, the topic was a natural fit.

The research led me in many different directions. I will try to present some of the most compelling information from various categories with the underlying premise that there is more to rap (and the criticism it so frequently receives) than meets the eye. This research has sparked my interest quite profoundly, and what follows is only the beginning.

An initial point of order in this discussion is to point out the plethora of definitions behind the terms rap and hip-hop. Hip-hop is often defined as the subculture whose greatest contributor (and source of amusement) is rap music. Hip-hop is also an accurate descriptor for the popular form of music that traces its multifarious roots to rap, rhythm & blues, jazz, punk, and rock music. Rap is simply a type of music that is an essential element of this complex and diverse hip hop culture. For the purposes of this paper, the terms will be used interchangeably and to describe both the music the terms represent and the culture in which it plays a starring role, since each term is an inseparable part of the other.

The heated discussion over the affect of rap music on American culture often centers on the prevalence of obscenity and profanity in many of the songs. Since neither of these prevalent components of rap is unique to the genre, the argument over the effect of profanity seems myopic. The uniquely influential nature of rap requires that the discussion of its affect on culture address the contributions that the genre has made to the American lexicon. This discussion does not usually materialize. Unfortunately, the extreme provocative product of some artists demeans the accomplishments of others who are still committed to their craft (which they still use to speak about real issues and not just sex, drugs, gaudy jewelry, superfluous consumerism, and violence.

Perhaps the most notorious rap group in history, whose unfiltered message assaulted the ears of an unwitting opposition, was NWA (Niggas with Attitudes). Their “seminal” work, F*** the Police earned them much notoriety. Unfortunately for the black community, this country was did not understand the group’s motivation so they became fixated on the violence that NWA seemed to be advocating. The song was about shedding light on police brutality, but that discussion never materialized. People were too concerned with the title of the song. Chuck D of Public Enemy (widely considered one of the greatest rap groups of all time) once described rap as the CNN of young Black Americans (Rap on Rap 257). Therefore, one could have assumed that police brutality is a huge issue if a song as blatantly antisocial as F*** the Police can become the unofficial anthem of black disenfranchisement in the 1990’s.

Groups like NWA helped create a whole new field: rap criticism. Perhaps the most rigorous critic of hip-hop culture and rap music is Stanley Crouch. His scathing remarks on the subject have earned him notoriety. “Brute masculine rappers with their gold teeth and drooping pants occupy the other end of the negro freak show for white folks”, Crouch said, contrasting the image of the “gangsta rapper” with Michael Jackson (70). This image that Crouch so deplores represents a long-standing tradition in rap music: resistance to social conformity (in his book, The Artificial White Man, Crouch suggests that there is no reason why black men should feel the need to dress in the way he described above in order to frighten the establishment—the establishment was frightened by black men already). Crouch does not give credit to rap for its power to address social issues because he cannot get past the “minstrel” image that seems to be imbedded in it.

In contrast with Crouch’s criticism, the book Black in School by Shawn A. Ginwright sees the potential for hip-hop culture to regain its role as an instigator of positive change, stating: “Hip-hop culture can encourage black youth to change their thinking about community problems and act toward creating a more equitable world….It also provides a blueprint for social change and has been utilized as a politicizing tool to inform youth about significant social problems” (132). There is clearly a huge disconnect between Crouch and Ginwright on the cultural contributions of rap and the role hip-hop can play on society (and on black youths, specifically). Looking closer at Crouch’s criticism only widens the chasm. Crouch says, “National appreciation of full round buttocks is not only new but may be the only significant cultural contribution to come out of rap” (220). Crouch clearly proclaims that the only positive contribution that rap has made to society is the way it has broadened the definition of what is considered beautiful. But he is not to congratulatory to rap for accomplishing this feat. Crouch believes that this appreciation (having been born out of scandalous rap videos over the years that promote “hypersexualization”) has been internationalized “by those ignorant, misogynistic knuckleheads with their gold teeth and their updated minstrel outfits” (220).

Another critic of rap belongs in the discussion is jazz legend Wynton Marsalis. Marsalis (who is widely considered one of the best trumpet players ever, as well as the greatest living jazz musician) is committed to education and the arts. His criticism of rap and hip-hop is an indictment—not just of the music itself, but of the American culture that so willingly embraces it. Marsalis has frequently cited hip-hop as the biggest contributor to what he calls “America’s cultural bankruptcy” (http://blogcritics.org/archives/2003/10/02/110040.php). Marsalis assailed rap music at a speech he gave to the National Press Club, saying, "[Ignorance in hip hop and rap is] not always something you can see. But as you watch and listen, the ignorance will become clear to you" (ibid).

Ginwright spends most of his book being painfully optimistic towards the hope that hip-hop can undo the damage it has done, while Crouch the Critic and Marsalis the Musician are unable to appreciate any part of rap music and hip-hop culture. Similar to Marsalis, Crouch’s vitriolic criticism of hip-hop deals addresses what he sees as a lack of authenticity, creativity, and originality. But a look at the history of rap exposes the prevalence of all three of the aforementioned elements. Here is a quick rundown of key players in the early rap scene: Kool Moe Dee, Public Enemy, Africa Bambaataa, Big Daddy Kane, Grandmaster Flash & the Furious Five. Even if you had never heard any of their music, their names alone suggest authenticity and originality. To continue that theme, take a look at a short list of rappers today: Lil’ Flip, Lil’ Romeo, Lil’ Jon, Lil’ Troy, Lil’ Wayne, Lil’ Zane. Their contributions (in comparison to the previous list) will most likely be similar in size to that which their name implies. There has to be some middle ground. So where are the exceptions?

In TuPac Shakur’s Keep Ya Head Up, Shakur pays his respect to women on welfare who are doing everything they can to survive. In the same vein, Coolio’s County Line portrays being humiliated in a welfare line. Each song addresses a loaded social issue that is bigger than the black community, and does so without unnecessary profanity or obscenity. Another type of exception to Marsalis’ categorical assertion that all rap music is ignorant is the type of rap that just feels good to say out loud—just like good poetry (even if the content is not about a specific social ill, as in the previous instances). The first example is a few lines from rapper Talib Kweli, delivered with poetic flair, mocking the same type of rap that Marsalis and Crouch deride:

Kweli’s words are carefully employed to paint a picture and prove a point. It is easy to appreciate the complexity of his internal rhymes and wordplay when you look at his work like a poem. An even more obvious example of hip hop as poetry is the song entitled Alphabet Soup, by rap group Blackalicious. The lyrics, rife with alliteration, are written so that the first letter of the first word of each two line group begins with a subsequent letter of the alphabet—the song starts at ‘A’ and doesn’t stop until it gets to ‘Z’. Here is a sample:

This brazen display of verbal ability seems to be anything but “ignorant.” Marsalis should appreciate this type of technical prowess: his album The Marcaic Suite contained all original compositions. Although this is an accomplishment in itself for a genre with few truly prolific composers, it wasn’t enough for Marsalis: this 13 part opus was written using all 12 different keys. This was not the first time (nor will it be the last time) that Marsalis exhibits his improvisational and compositional proficiency by using every single key at his disposal. Hip-hop does not have an equivalent to Marsalis, but the examples of poetic lyrics given above show that there are many ways through which skills can be displayed.

No form of art should be dismissed categorically. Fiction should not be dismissed because of poor-quality romance novels just as rap should not be dismissed because so much of it has no artistic value. There are many chapters and volumes in the story of rap. Rap, like any other art, has its good, bad, and ugly. There is value in the fact that with rap and hip-hop, the good can be great.

Ginwright, Shawn. Black in School: Afrocentric reform, Urban Youth, and the Promise of Hip- Hop Culture