Week 6: Dyson's Dilemma

I was really excited to read "Know What I Mean" by Dyson because I'm a big Dyson fan. Sometimes he leaves important parts of history, doesn't critically analyze as much as I would like to see, or neglects other views on societal norms. But, in spite of my disagreements with Dyson at times, it was a pleasure to read.

There were so many places in his book that I liked because he really offered a wide range of views and ideas about hip hop, focusing a lot on gender politics, generational gaps, and conscious vs. commercial. But I want to focus on one specific section from Dyson about maneuvering within the capitalist, white supremacist music/media industry.

"You can spit venom at white supremacy, social injustice, the personal limitations imposed by a dominant culture, and still use... the master's tools to dismantle the master's house or at least break in and enjoy some of the bounty" (Dyson, 56).

So on one hand, I like what Dyson has to say. I agree that it is absolutely a legitimate tactic to attempt to undermine a system of oppression by co-opting their methods of distribution, appropriating the oppressor's imagery and language, and ultimately hustling elites out of resources. In fact, this philosophy is a common argument in determining whether it is acceptable to work within the system of oppression in order to change it.

But at the same time, I don't know if Dyson's doctrine here is contributing to creating a "hip hop politic" that transforms society for the better. In some way, working within the system can give the system more legitimacy. Ultimately, unless people who are trying to make hip hop more socially and politically conscious (SPC) own the distribution and marketing entities involved, there will be powerful (white) interests profiting that do not have any interest in televising the revolution. Also, when working within major labels, I wonder if saying that you want to "change the game" eventually becomes just another gimmick. If it's not a gimmick, then do people become changed by the system they are working within and pursue profitability and marketability over their original intentions? Finally, Dyson ends with the idea that at least getting in on the "bounty" is good enough. This may be true for the elite individuals the profit from being the managers, lawyers, or producers in the hip hop industry. But this does not seem to help benefit anyone outside of the system. And if the industry keeps producing albums that are 90% "bling"-guns-booty and 10% "message", doesn't that keep highlighting the social problems that hip hop hopes to address in the community? How does this uplift or shift society?

Ultimately, it is difficult line to walk: how can you uplift in the system and how can you get heard at all outside of the system? I think Dyson makes strong points that commercial viability and SPC are not mutually exclusive. But I also think it is even more complicated than Dyson presents it.

Week 5: Turn Off The Radio?

In this week's readings, the most prominent theme that I latched onto is how structures of technology and industry influence the direction and content in artistic expression.

More concretely, in James B. Stewart's article, I saw how much emphasis certain scholars put on the diminished role of the radio DJ and the local radio station in coordinating political initiatives. Stewart explained that during the Civil Rights Movement (CRM), the radio DJ took on the role of community organizer by announcing events, promoting community education, and "carefully [selecting] particular songs to underscore the political message delivered through other formats" (200). Additionally, these radio stations took seriously their role as a voice in the community and provided serious presentation and analysis of news events in order to keep people politically engaged as well as artistically stimulated. Stewart also talked about the idea of the "community theater," which was a space where people could listen to music together and join in on creating/forming cultural expressions. All of these ideas culminated in this era of R&B politicization and community engagement that was centered around music. While it was not clear whether R&B was a catalyst or a reflection of this energy, that was not the point: the point was that through the radio, political messages were promoted and kept alive, both in the activist and artistic sense. And just the radio but record labels like Philadelphia International Records donated their record sale profits to community charities and record labels were more willing to allow artists to determine the content of their albums.

But as media conglomerates began to consolidate, crush local black disk jockeys, and exercise totalitarian artistic oversight, political message became harder and harder to put on albums. And in business/commodity terms, it's not a surprise: if you want to appeal to the largest audience possible, political messages are often divisive and challenge the status-quo, which may turn away consumers. This made me reflect on the massive media consolidation that exists today in the radio industry, as well as the broader music industry. Although I would like to discuss whether political rap inherently cannot become "mainstream," I believe that the lack of space, creativity, and risk-taking among the major powers of music industry have certainly squashed the possibility of socially/politically conscious, commercially-viable rap.

As a side note, I wanted to pose a question: Stewart and (Alridge to an extent) trace hip hop's origins back to R&B and conscious political actions. But doesn't hip hop also share its heritage with funk/disco, which were described as "a sound of mindless repetition and lyrical idiocy" (Stewart 216)? Does this fact of multiple cultural origins contribute to the complex, and often contradictory, paradigms that coexist within hip hop?


Looking forward to Monday!

Week 4: The Soul of Hip Hop

First, I wanted to share an anecdote that I thought was relevant to the last few readings. I went to a Murs show in DC about a year ago. Murs is riding a border between underground/mainstream hip hop, and he recently signed to Warner Brother Records. But at the show, I noticed tagged on his newly acquired tour bus "SELL OUT" in white spray paint. I thought that was an interesting dynamic considering all of the stories we are reading about people in "the industry" that really is not represented by Toure: the independent crowd that stands opposed to industry artists.

Anyway, I am going to stick to two ideas from Toure because I have been all over the place recently.

In the first part of the reading on some of the women of the Hip Hop Nation, I felt like there was a different character in their creation process. It seemed like Lauryn Hill and Alisha Keys have a raw passion to expressive in their music. This seems different than the first part of the Toure because I don't think that Hill and Keys are creating a character or developing an image. They both seem to be authentic artists trying to express something that is very real to them. Keys seems to reject being "iced out" and seeks to be "ghetto hot" calling on images and words that express some sort of reality, not a fantasy realm. Her concept for her song "Fallin'" and the music video express a sense of love and pain, accompanied by a social critique of incarceration stereotypes and the borderlessness of love.
At the same time Lauryn Hill wants to create respect for herself as an artist, a producer, not just someone who leaches off the creative talents of others. She would not be pigeon-holed as a pretty face. To a fault, Hill wanted to be given credit for developing dope music. As ?uestlove put it, she wanted her solo career to establish her as an independent artist from Wyclef Jean. Hill commented that she has created a public persona, but she hated it and had to break out of it.
For me, along with the article about Beyonce, showed me the side of some artists that were trying to create art that was powerfully moving and authentic, not create some kind of image.

Finally, I thought that the last two sections on gay and lesbian rappers was really eye-opening and thought provoking. I pride myself in knowing lots of artists, and I knew none of these gay artists. I think the questions posed by Toure were very valuable. The idea about homosocial interaction and brotherly love are connected to the homosexual tension that exists in hip hop. I believe the homophobia stems from the desire to protect Black masculinity because it is fragile in a white supremacist, male-dominant culture. Anything that runs contrary to the dominant construction of Black masculinity (such as being the penetrated or femininity) is a threat to the community if it is accepted. I look forward to finding and listening to Caushun and Juba Kalamka and Tim'm West.

OK, looking forward to Monday! Enjoy your weekend, everyone.

Week 3: "It's all About Reality"

Hello Hip Hop Nation!

I am dropping my blog entry early because I will be gone Monday doing a visit for post-graduate studies at Eden Theological Seminary, and I wanted to give this my attention before I leave.

Well for this week, I had a whole lot of different thoughts, so I will tease a few ideas out here:

1. In the Toure reading, I really focused on looking for the idea that Dr. Schur was talking about in class: the idea that hip hop stars use a persona to create music and sell their identity, as much as their art. I thought Toure did his best work in sort of trying to separate people like Eminem, 50 Cent, DMX, and Biggie from their hip hop-identity and get at the actual person. The part where Biggie sort of explains that he is actually nervous as hell about getting killed was really moving for me. Nervousness and fear are not emotions that hip-hoppers usually express in their work, and it is re-humanizing to hear things like that. The story of Tupac weeping from Toure's assertion about the legitimacy of his shooting story had the same effect. In reading about Eminem's life philosophies and actions with his families, I kept asking myself the question: why aren't some of these values that he is imparting on the children he is raising (i.e. being there for family, respect towards women, personal responsibility) incorporated into his music more often? I guess these things are not entertaining to the community of music listeners...

2. On the same note, I wondered how much Toure's presentation of 50 Cent made me wonder how record executives and popular culture are narrowing the definition of "authentic" and choking the diversity of hip hop. I mean, it seems like record executives are actively seeking people with rough pasts to be their new talent because if an act is believable/verifiable, it will grab much more clout. These personas reflect values such as hyperviolence, ultra-materialism, illicit drug use, a lack of concern for the community, and the objectification of women. There are rare exceptions that are commercially viable and do not reflect these dominant trends... (Also, these personas conflate being "from the street" with all of these anti-social traits) Can a hip hop star be successful in the long-term without being "authentic"? How do artists like Talib Kweli and Common balance their autheticity with their message? Can people like this sell on a large-scale with major label benefits and distribution?

3. The Rux piece was really confusing. I did not understand his Dionysus metaphor, and his cultural historiography was full of language that was not very accessible. In spite of those things, I think I got something from it: So race and identity are not tangible things, but they have real impacts on our everyday lives in structuring hierarchies of power, as well as giving meaning and ownership of the self. But these racial identification are part of a broader construction of collective consciousness of meaning. Therefore, whiteness is not real, but it is defined by the group and membership is contingent on specific cultural requirements. So in walks Eminem [here is where Rux lost me]. Somehow there is a historical construction of a whiteness that is infatuated with the oppressed culture or the "Other" identity, a social outcast. Therefore, Eminem is simply constructing his own persona within the historical context of the tradition of the supremacist culture buying into the perks of the outsider culture. Why this is not truly authetnic adaptation of black culture is because Eminem has the ability to remove himself from the outsider stance and make himself fit into the dominant white culture; Eminem can move between these worlds, unlike Black artists, who are confined to the anxiouness of being a social outcast...

So I think I got most of it, but I know I'm missing pieces too, and I'm still not sure if Rux is affirming, dissing, or neutral on the art of Eminem... I think the article was interesting and if I was in class I would like to expand on it, but I think I wrote enough here.... Well, enjoy class! See you in two weeks.