Hip-hop lovers reminisce about the “golden era”
of hip-hop in the late 1980s and early 1990s, when a
diversity of music makers included conscious rappers,
party rappers, gangster rappers and more. But today,
with the onslaught of media conglomeration and hip-hop’s
full establishment into the mainstream, commercial rap’s
lyrical content has grown increasingly limited and one-dimensional.
Hip-hop, which began as a form of cultural expression
in marginalized communities and was once poised to become
a vehicle for African American empowerment and political
activism, is today stereotyped as misogynistic and homophobic,
glorifying violence and racist caricature.
One explanation might be that labels simply refuse to
put out anything else—commercial rap simply sells
more, especially now that media corporations are involved.
Former Def Jam label president Carmen Ashhurst says,
“The time when we switched to gangsta music is
the same time that the majors bought up all the labels.
I don’t think that’s a coincidence….
We went to Columbia, then the next thing I know, our
producers for Public Enemy were over producing an Ice
Cube album and then… we’re pushing a group
called Bitches with Problems.”
So what sells? What do people want to hear? To what
extent are artists and music companies merely satisfying
commercial needs and consumer desires? According to
rapper Jadakiss, people want stars like 50 Cent: “It’s
good music, but kind of light behind
 |
Many aspiring rappers feel that the road to success is to perpetuate common stereotypes |
the
content. It’s selling like… hot flowers.”
One catch-22 behind rappers like 50 Cent selling more
records is that it raises the expectations within the
music industry. In order to be successful, rappers must
act a certain way, perpetuating the limited expression
found in commercial rap. Writer Mark Anthony Neal explains
that for many young rappers, the most important thing
is to land a record deal: “What they are hearing
from the record companies and what the record companies
are hearing from these video stations is that there
are only certain examples of blackness that we are going
to let flow through this space. And when it comes to
hip-hop, there are certain conventions that we want
to see. We want to see kind of the hard core thug performing
hip-hop, we want to see booties shaking in the background,
and when hip-hop videos don’t fit into those conventions,
they don’t get played.”
Another explanation of the commercial palatability of
conventional hip-hop is that it plays into stereotypes
of race, gender and class. White consumers—who
make up the majority of commercial hip-hop consumers—buy
into stereotypes of blackness based on violence and
caricature, while people of color also consume images
of black manhood commodified as one-dimensional and
devoid of social responsibility. Activist and educator
Jackson Katz says, “If the KKK was smart enough,
they would’ve created gangsta rap because it’s
such a caricature of black culture and black masculinity.
Yet young people of color are being presented with this
idea that somehow these people represent us, and they’re
cool and they’re going to stand in for ‘us’
against the white power structure, while they’re
completely subservient to that white power structure.
It’s really an ironic, sad reality.”
In 2003, the Federal Communications Commission voted
to lift bans on media deregulation, paving the way for
media corporations to own multiple radio stations, television
networks and other sources of entertainment and news
within the same market. The result has been catastrophic
in further limiting the diversity of commercial media,
making it more difficult to create and disseminate alternative
forms of information.
Jackson Katz asks, “Who's making the decisions
about what people see? Who's making the decisions about
what gets the multi-million-dollar contracts? …
Overwhelmingly it's white men in suits who are making
those decisions and they're deciding, you know, ‘This
makes money, I'm gonna sell it. I don't care if it's
hurting people.’ It's a business decision, right?”
One place to counteract this is from within the industry
itself. While white record executives might not be too
open to releasing music that critiques the status quo,
it might be, as Michael Dyson says, “the job of…
black record executives to speak up articulately.”
 |
Paul Moody is one of millions of white fans who buy the bulk of commercial hip-hop albums |
Yet
the responsibility cannot fall entirely on the record
industry itself. Music consumers must learn to read
lyrics and images intelligently, as well as challenge
those that they disagree with. As Minister Conrad Tillard
explains, “We, as a community, (must) challenge
this notion that it's okay for black males to die early,
that this is a natural part of life… as though
your life doesn't really mean anything.”
Most importantly, perhaps, is the need to keep creating
media that counteracts commercial representation. BET,
Clear Channel-owned radio and corporate record labels
are not the only sources of hip-hop. By supporting independent
music labels, music lovers can support a diverse array
of music producers, artists and content.
Learn about hypermasculinity and violence in hip-hop »
Take a look at hip-hop lyrics and tell us what you think »
|
