Why Hip-Hop Sucks Parts I and II

[bigted]

http://popmatters.com/columns/hill/050926.shtml

THE BARBERSHOP NOTEBOOKS: Why Hip-Hop Sucks Part 2: Naming Names

It may be getting louder, but it ain't getting any better...

by Marc Lamont Hill

Since writing the cathartic piece, "Why Hip-Hop Sucks Part 1" a few months ago, I have received a constant flurry of e-mails, phone calls, and letters from a wide range of hip-hop critics, fans, and artists who have responded in a variety of interesting ways to my lamentation. While many people, including prominent artists (shout out to Common and Nas!) shared my sense of sadness about the state of hip-hop, others criticized me for my pessimism, romanticism, and failure to acknowledge the extra-musical dimensions of hip-hop culture like b-boying and graffiti. Some, like the several members of the Zulu Nation who wrote angry rejoinders to the piece, even questioned the authenticity of my connection to hip-hop culture.

After a few months of reflection, I've come to some conclusions. First of all, hip-hop still sucks. Nonetheless, I am not pessimistic about its future. On the contrary, I am quite hopeful that we will be able to find our way. Am I admittedly and unavoidably romantic about the hip-hop of the past? Yes. But, like Chris Rock said after first listening to "Get Low" and "Move Bitch", it's getting hard to defend this new ****. Why do I focus on the music and not the other dimensions of hip-hop? Three reasons: 1) the other stuff doesn't suck nearly as badly; 2) the other stuff matters largely because of the status of the music; and 3) no disrespect to the other elements, but hip-hop music is what I care about the most.

In part two of this recurring series, I provide further explication of my position by not only describing problematic trends in hip-hop, but also identifying the key figures in the culture who embody them. To be clear (both for journalistic purposes and as a disclaimer for desperate and crazed backpacker zealots), I am not suggesting that these individuals are the cause of hip-hop's ills. Rather, they are but symptoms of much larger problems that demand serious attention.

The Source

Since its inception in 1988, The Source magazine has been the New York Times of the hip-hop community, updating its readers on the latest news, trends, and up-and-coming artists. No magazine in hip-hop history has had the ability to make or break a career like The Source, whose "mics" are the unit of measurement not only for its own rating system, but also the critical shorthand for the entire hip-hop community. While a five mic album can virtually certify an album's success and assure legendary status for the artist, a low rating (below three mics) can end a career before it starts. In recent years, coinciding with co-owner Raymond "Benzino" Scott's increasing public role with the magazine, The Source has come under considerable scrutiny for its questionable editorial practices. While there have always been questionable reviews and "money for mics" rumors surrounding The Source, as well as other music magazines, a series of events over the past five years have drastically and permanently tarnished its reputation.

Despite being commercial flops, Benzino and his untalented rap crew Made Men (formerly the Almighty RSO) have been given extraordinary attention from The Source. Despite selling only 14,000 copies of his Redemption album, Benzino has graced the cover of the magazine while Made Men, who received only scant media attention, have been nominated for the magazine's annual awards. In 1999, editor-in-chief Selwyn Hinds resigned from his position after being forced to change the magazine's Made Men rating from 3.5 (fairly average) to 4.5 (nearly classic) mics. More recently, in August 2005, Joshua "Fahiem" Ratcliffe resigned after being forced to lower Little Brother's rating from 4.5 to 4.0 mics. Word on the street is that Lil Kim's upcoming pre-jail LP, The Naked Truth, will receive 5 mics. This questionable call will do nothing to stop the rumors.

In addition to its questionable music criticism, The Source has become increasingly focused on courting commercial advertising dollars and disseminating hip-hop gossip. In doing this, The Source has essentially ignored many substantive political issues affecting the hip-hop generation and the larger black and Latino communities. The most notable exception to this has been The Source's crusade against Eminem in a series of articles, and through Benzino's kamikaze rap battle with the white lyricist. In addition to critiquing his privileged industry position, The Source released a CD of Eminem's disturbing and racist teenage rants against black women. Given their historic indifference to the treatment of black women, as evidenced by the magazine's nearly pornographic ads and photo spreads, as well as its blind eye towards the remainder of hip-hop misogyny, it appears that Benzino and The Source were fighting for exclusive rights to call and treat black women like bitches and hos -- no white man was gonna do it for 'em.

Lil' Jon

A relative once told me "Never eat watermelon in front of white people!" His advice was based on the belief that if white people saw black people doing stereotypical things, it would serve to reinforce racism and somehow justify continued unequal treatment. This same ideology causes me to look around for white people whenever I see Lil' Jon on television, and internally cringe when my white colleagues ask me to explain his antics. Lil' Jon's image, which amounts to postmodern minstrelsy or what Jeff Chang calls "crunkface". serves as a brutal reminder of the poverty of black representation in the mass media. While Lil' Jon is certainly not the first Stepin Fetchit throwback that hip-hop has seen — figures like Flava Flav and Ol' Dirty Bastard can certainly claim OC (original coon) status — Lil' Jon somehow manages to strip his identity of any self awareness and complexity that his predecessors possessed. In place of Flav's musical activism and ODB's Five Percenter allusions is Lil' Jon's lyrically impoverished rants that are just plain "ign'ant", even under hip-hop standards.

Bishop Don "Magic" Juan

For the past few years, the "reformed" pimp has been a fixture on the hip-hop scene, accompanying Snoop Dogg on videos, interviews, and award shows. While hip-hop has never been short on misogyny, "Don Juan" presence marks a depressing downward shift in hip-hop's gender politics. The term, which refers to the practice of manipulating and dehumanizing women through rape, beatings, and the use of their bodies for sexual commerce, has become a staple of both mainstream and underground hip-hop discourse. Consequently, the sex industry that largely exploits poor black and Latino women is, at best, an afterthought to suburban white MTV viewers who want their rides pimped, energy deprived urban professionals in desperate need of pimp juice, and pseudo-revolutionaries who follow "conscious" MCs like Dead Prez's exhortations to pimp the system.

Some intellectuals, like my dear friend Michael Eric Dyson, have argued that "pimp" is merely a metaphor that has been appropriated by the hip-hop generation and given a new and redemptive meaning. This wouldn't be outside the realm of possibility if the people historically designated as "hoes" were refashioning the pimp, as black people have done with "nigger". But how can the very people who enable and benefit from the hateful practices that normalize pimping (in this case, the male-driven hip-hop industry) suddenly decide to separate it from its vicious history? That's like George W. Bush saying, "Nigger, no longer means what it used to mean to blacks. Okay niggers?"

Kanye West

Given his recent courageous statements about the Bush Administration's response to the Hurricane Katrina tragedy, I am willing to give Kanye a pass for the arrogant, childish, and narcissistic characteristics have turned him into hip-hop's first full-fledged diva. Nevertheless, every time that I listen to a track from Kanye West's two "classic" albums, I find myself wondering "Am I the only person on the planet that realizes that this guy can't rap?" While no one can doubt Kanye's genius behind the boards, or his ambition and creativity on the mic, his lyrical frailty becomes apparent whenever he shares a track with real MCs like Common, Talib Kweli, Jay-Z, Nas, or even Cam'ron. Of course, hip-hop has always had its share of compelling but sub-par MCs like Chuck D, Eazy E, and Guru, but none of them were billed as top-flight lyricists. On the contrary, Kanye has been positioned as a hip-hop heavyweight in spite of his average skills.

More importantly, Kanye represents a disturbing trend in hip-hop lyricism. Complex rhyme schemes, clever allusions, and poetic flows are slowly falling to the wayside in favor of predictable punch lines, wack similes, and uninventive interpolations of earlier songs. At least part of the blame for this pattern goes to Jay-Z, who has often bragged that he never writes his lyrics down. This type of statement — which is the equivalent of Michael Jordan confessing to a young hoopster that he never really practiced over the summer — does an extraordinary disservice to the other 99.9% of the rappers who cannot create quality rhymes without the benefit of a pen.

Marion "Suge" Knight

Who said that I had a problem with Suge Knight? Somebody has a problem with Suge Knight? I ain't got no problems with Suge Knight.

To Be Continued...

[fan 4ever]

Thanx man! That was a good read! I agree on that part about The Source and that pimp part! But why did he have to go at Kanye? I'm not saying he's one of the best MC's ever....but he's above average!

[TooFresh]

Great article!!

[Frenetic]

Actually... the dude has interesting opinions..but it's easy to slash him in a debate, cause he doesn't go deep into the subjects... he just enjoys bashing hiphop.

[bigted]

I agree on the most part but I don't think Chuck D, Eazy-E, and Guru are sub-par mcs, they're some of the greatest to ever do it, they're all better than anybody now. Kanye West is kinda average though I agree with that, he only looks great when you compare him to 50 Cent and Mike Jones but if you compare him to LL, FP, Rakim, Big Daddy Kane, Chuck D, Slick Rick, KRS, Pac, Biggie, etc. he's average, if he came out in the 90s you'd see that, he might have some great lyrics in between but he got average flow, you could see it yourself from watching hip-hop honors, he had the worst performance, all the ol' school mcs outshined him, I think that's fair criticism, not a diss, I think the Source is a piece of garbage to be called a magazine, they actually helped Em's overrated career even more after that since beef sells, and now to give Lil' Kim 5 mics proves that they got no credability!

[mfuqua23]

Yeah, that sub-par thing isnt right to say. Has anybody ever got a whole crowd of African American people to say "Fight The Power!" - Chuck D

Easy-E, he's an alright guy in my eyes. He just doing him. Making money and what not.

Guru - I havent heard alot of his stuff, but I'd think he's a little higher than sub-par.

btw, speaking of Suge, did U know he's going to coach a football team now? I guess Snoop needs to watch out. (i heard it on the "Best Damn Sports Show" last night)

Edited September 29, 2005 by mfuqua23

[WesSyde]

interesting article, it's nice to see someone who agrees with our points of view. i thought the Kanye bit was interesting and i agreed with most of it.

[Angel Amor]

interesting article, it's nice to see someone who agrees with our points of view. i thought the Kanye bit was interesting and i agreed with most of it.

:iagree:

[Jin]

Very interesting article! Can somebody post why hip hop sucks part 1???

[bigted]

It was right there on the link:

THE BARBERSHOP NOTEBOOKS

Why Hip-Hop Sucks, Part 1

[27 May 2005]

column archive

by Marc Lamont Hill

The Yin-Yang Twins -- Afraid of a Hair Cut?

Hip-Hop sucks. There, I've said it. After years of ignoring my feelings and hoping that things would change with the next album, video, or artist, I have finally accepted the fact that hip-hop simply isn't good anymore. The swagger is gone. Hip-hop is still cool but it's no longer fly. It's still hot but it's no longer dope. Most important, hip-hop is no longer fun. I can't say for sure when it happened, but somewhere between Wu-Tang's grimy "Protect Ya Neck" and the Ying Yang Twins' disgusting "Whisper Song", hip-hop became boring and predictable.

To be sure, my disaffection is likely a natural response to having recently suffered the indignity of turning to the local urban radio station and discovering that one of the songs that I listened to in high school had been relegated to the "old school lunch hour". Consequently, like any newly made hip-hop "old head", I now invoke a degree of nostalgia in order to protect my most precious memories of the recent past from what Stuart Hall calls the "tyranny of the new". As such, I must hate a little on the new stuff in order to keep the old stuff fully relevant and valuable to me.

Nevertheless, I maintain that we have reached a low point in hip-hop culture. But unlike most of my friends who have elected for early retirement from hip-hop fandom, I am not content to simply walk away in a self-righteous huff. Instead, I am willing to put my issues on the table in the small hope that things can turn around. After all, unlike Common, I still love H.E.R. I just can't find H.E.R.

In this recurring series, I provide some of my explanations for hip-hop's decline. Moving beyond the more frequently discussed issues like wanton materialism, female objectification, or corporate co-optation, I point to some equally critical issues within hip-hop that have pushed me to this point. Here goes:

Where my girls at?

Although hip-hop has always been a hyper-masculine boys club, quality female representation has dipped to an all-time low. No one has picked up the baton once carried by MC Lyte, Queen Latifah, or Salt n' Pepa and successfully run with it. Even the sex driven (and often ghostwritten) acts of Lil' Kim and Foxy Brown have been reproduced as uninteresting caricatures like Khia and Trina. While Missy Elliot's creativity and old school flavor keep the music fun, her lyrical abilities are drastically sub-par. Artists like Bahamadia and Jean Grae keep the underground alive with their top shelf skills, but their lack of selling power makes it difficult for them to start a movement. Our brightest hope was Lauryn Hill before (she became) Unplugged, when she ranked among the illest MCs on the planet, male or female. Word on the street is that she's on the road to personal and lyrical recovery. We'll keep our fingers crossed.

They don't freestyle no mo'

Not so long ago, freestyling was a centerpiece of hip-hop culture. In order to be considered a complete MC, an individual had to be literally battle tested in the world of improvisational rhyming. Until the mid-'90s, the mixtape market, live shows, and local ciphers all served as fertile sites for freestyle raps from both seasoned veterans and hungry up-and-comers. Today, mixtape and live show "freestyles" are little more than album pre-releases and verses retrieved from the cutting room floor. Even worse, many underground and national rap venues (like BET's Freestyle Friday) privilege predictable one liners, insults, and clearly rehearsed verses over the raw, perfect imperfections of an authentic freestyle. There are exceptions, of course, like Toni Blackman's "Freestyle Union" movement, as well as rappers like Common who aren't scared to drop a verse from the dome in front of thousands. Nevertheless, the future of the freestyle is pretty grim.

Manufactured rap wars

Like the freestyle, MC battles have been the lifeblood of hip-hop culture since the '80s. LL Cool J vs. Kool Moe Dee, Roxanne Shante vs. Real Roxanne, KRS One vs. MC Shan, and most recently Nas vs. Jay-Z, have all marked highpoints in hip-hop history. While there is certainly no shortage of battles in today's rap world, there has been a dramatic shift in the quality, authenticity, and motivations for the latest rap wars. Since the overwhelming commercial success of the Nas vs. Jay-Z feud, it seems that every new MC must find someone to beef with in order to make his or her mark and boost record sales. Perhaps the most transparent example of this is 50 Cent, who managed to stir controversy with Nas, R. Kelly, Fat Joe, Jadakiss, and Game right around the time of his album release date. In addition to the WWF-esque feel of the battles, the lyrical quality of the latest feuds has waned considerably. Instead of engaging a spirited game of the dozens filled with personal and professional disses, most rappers use the songs as a space to make personal threats and air dirty laundry. For this reason, it is no surprise that so many of today's beefs have extended beyond the songs and into the streets.

The Superproducer

While hip-hop has always had its share of elite producers, the last 10 years have given birth to a new breed of "superproducers". Beginning with the ever-present P. Diddy (née Puff Daddy), this group of overexposed hit men has moved from behind the boards and into the videos and songs of their artists. Superproducers like the Neptunes (particularly Pharrell) and Kanye West have become so large and appear so frequently on the songs they produce that they almost always overshadow their artists. Furthermore, superproducers have created sounds so distinctive and, as of late, predictable that the hip-hop Top-40 sounds like one big remix album. For example, even Lil Jon' himself would have difficulty distinguishing between the beats for his 2004 mega-hits "Freek-a-leek" and "Yeah!" Another consequence of this sonic oligarchy has been the construction of barriers for many talented young producers to gain access to the big stage because of their lack of star power or failure to reproduce the sounds de jour. The only viable alternative for many is to serve as a ghostproducer for the giants of the day and patiently wait for a chance to get noticed. The only catch is that the role of ghostproducer requires them to constrain much of their own creativity in order to approximate the sounds of the superproducer. The rich get richer . .

[rcpbball30]

In the Part II, I really liked and agreed with the part about complex rhyme schemes, people don't even recognize that today, I mean, 50 Cent would never do something like that, but on Will's latest album, there are plenty. (Party Starter, I Wish I Made That, etc)

[bigted]

In the Part II, I really liked and agreed with the part about complex rhyme schemes, people don't even recognize that today, I mean, 50 Cent would never do something like that, but on Will's latest album, there are plenty. (Party Starter, I Wish I Made That, etc)

Yeah well every album Will's done there's always something that displays his skills, what Big Daddy Kane said in this interview is right on, they don't sign rappers on major labels 'cause of their skills, they sign them 'cause they're marketable for a few albums then dump them, like 50 Cent is signed 'cause he was shot 9 times, Kanye was signed 'cause he rolls with Jay-Z, Nelly 'cause he appeals to the girls, Eminem 'cause he's a white rapper that raps about thug life, etc...

"AllHipHop.com: How do you see the game these days?

Big Daddy Kane: The labels don’t want a star, a natural-born talent. They want a fly-by-night that will go platinum, sell triple platinum. And, they can fall off and move on. If they do have a really talented artist, they know they are going to have to pay that artist eventually. They don’t want to give that money up. They would rather him have a major-selling album where they can recoup like crazy."