Interesting topic.
First, while what I am about to say may suggest otherwise, I am not a fan of Rap music. Which is to say that I rarely choose to listen to it, much as I rarely choose to listen to Opera.
And while I can understand the visceral dislike that some people feel towards it, I find the dismissive talk to be ironic. Why? Because the dismissive reactions are, by and large, reflexive, and not thoughtful.
In order to seriously discuss Rap, I believe that it is crucial to venture beyond the aesthetics of the genre, though there is arguably a very broad spectrum in that regard.
While I am not anything like an expert, I don’t think that there is any doubt that Rap is an important form of expression. The rawness, beat-centric nature, openness (in terms of lyrics), de-emphasis of melody, etc., are all reflections, in my view, of the world from which its progenitors came, and related anger and frustration that has been simmering for a long, long time.
Of course the work of every artist and musician is, to some extent, informed by their environment, but the inner city in the U.S. has been particularly toxic to those who grow up there.
This isn’t meant as an excuse for rude lyrics, or misogyny, etc., but at the same time there are plenty of Rap artists who have meaningful things to say, and the fact that the public’s appetite for their music has grown so remarkably confirms this.
Finally, for now, I’ll contribute this interesting, brief essay from 2009, from Bernard Chazelle, Professor of Computer Science at Princeton:
First, while what I am about to say may suggest otherwise, I am not a fan of Rap music. Which is to say that I rarely choose to listen to it, much as I rarely choose to listen to Opera.
And while I can understand the visceral dislike that some people feel towards it, I find the dismissive talk to be ironic. Why? Because the dismissive reactions are, by and large, reflexive, and not thoughtful.
In order to seriously discuss Rap, I believe that it is crucial to venture beyond the aesthetics of the genre, though there is arguably a very broad spectrum in that regard.
While I am not anything like an expert, I don’t think that there is any doubt that Rap is an important form of expression. The rawness, beat-centric nature, openness (in terms of lyrics), de-emphasis of melody, etc., are all reflections, in my view, of the world from which its progenitors came, and related anger and frustration that has been simmering for a long, long time.
Of course the work of every artist and musician is, to some extent, informed by their environment, but the inner city in the U.S. has been particularly toxic to those who grow up there.
This isn’t meant as an excuse for rude lyrics, or misogyny, etc., but at the same time there are plenty of Rap artists who have meaningful things to say, and the fact that the public’s appetite for their music has grown so remarkably confirms this.
Finally, for now, I’ll contribute this interesting, brief essay from 2009, from Bernard Chazelle, Professor of Computer Science at Princeton:
Bring the Noise
Public Enemy’s political voice may have obscured the enduring brilliance of their work. It’s been 21 years since the release of "It Takes a Nation" and it’s hard to believe how fresh, innovative, and emotionally powerful that album still sounds. The raw energy of Chuck D’s booming voice, trading rhymes with Flavor Flav, is channeled through a layered mix of swirling scratches, quick beats, and funky James-Brown samplings. It’s only when you listen to the old masters like PE and Run-DMC that you realize how much the current generation (Kanye and the rest) are in their debt. And, who knows, perhaps gangsta rap will even prove to be a short-lived commercial aberration.
You may know Chuck D from his Air America radio show and perhaps less from his status as one of rap’s great MCs, along with 2Pac, Nas, Jay-Z, etc. The "noise" in the title is what the pop world thought of hip-hop in the early days. Chuck D welcomes the slur. Yes it is "noise," he is rapping, our kind of noise, and if you don’t like it, tough. As in much of black music, of course, there is an underground "elitism" there meant to shoo away the white establishment. The "noise" played the same gatekeeping function as the jarring harmonies, forbidding virtuosity, and asymmetric rhythm of bebop did 40 years earlier. It didn’t help matters that Seamus Heaney (a poet I admire enormously) praised the poetic power of hip-hop. Heaney was right, of course, but to declare hip-hop safe for the establishment was the last thing hip-hop needed. (Everyone was probably too busy listening to Britney to hear Heaney.)
Some quick historical perspective. In my view, one pop figure dominates, nah, towers over everyone else. Nothing the Brits did comes anywhere close. Same with Elvis. No one can claim his musical breadth, creativity, and influence. That person, of course, is James Brown. And yet there was always something missing. Brown was always so far ahead of everyone else he ended up talking to himself. And you can’t formalize a new language when you only talk to yourself. Hip-hop is Brown’s legacy as an autonomous musical genre, its culmination if you will. It’s a genre that never ceases to amaze me. It’s not musical in the traditional sense of the word. But there’s an emotional intensity to it, a rhythmic richness, and a verbal brilliance that have no equivalent in pop music. I love it."