I spit the truth in lethal/
Its not the mic; its the mind I speak through/ KRS-One & Buckshot, Connection, Survival Skills, 2009. Hip-Hop as a whole, as a cultural community, has always had a problem accepting criticismwhether constructive or conjured, exact or exaggerated. Its in our bloodline. We suffer no critics, antagonists, or haters the opportunity to reduce our art-form to a spectacle. We respond with the quickness. We trot out the best amongst us, the brightest in our midst, to push back, blow back (military style), against anyone perceived as unjustly attacking it. The reason is clear: Hip-Hop has stood the test of time as one of the only artistic developments, throughout the history of humanity, to come to life without the help, supervision, or even awareness of an adult population. Youth of color, relegated to the ghettoes and barrios, took the dead scraps they found lying around, breathed life into it, and created a cultural force of irreducible significance that would change, and perhaps even save, the world. Three decades later, Hip-Hop is still standing. And though it is true that without the groundwork laid by Muhammad Ali, The Last Poets, Langston Hughes, Phillis Wheatley, Zora Neale Hurston, Gill Scott Heron, and many other pre-Hip-Hop poets, artists, and folklorists, Hip-Hop might have never come to be, it is also true that up until the mid 80s, most adults still openly expressed doubt about this budding phenomenon of creative genius they saw some potential in. And those were good old folks. There were those who simply despised it, because, to take their word, it presented nothing originalit simply borrowed from pre-existing traditions, remixing what was old into new, upbeat, catchy, repetitive loops. To an extent they were right. But never before had street kids, most without astute academic backgrounds, created their own cardinal directions to map out a future of possibility and hope: 1). They would paint pictures of the legacies they intended to leave behind 2) set music to it 3) carve out dance steps to supplement the sound 4) and prophesy upon the waves and melodies. That was genius! Immitigable genius. Still, some adults couldnt see the forest from the tree stumps. They hooted and hollered, cursed and castigated the young folks they saw selling their future in a fleeting pursuit of, to invoke Lauryn Hill, every tree bearing the wrong fruit. But as the late 80s roster unveiled a line-up of rhetorical acrobats, back straightened and eyes widened. The world began paying attention. The 90s came and didnt disappointup until it lost track of purpose and position, surrendering to the will of divide and conquer, drafted by enemies of Hip-Hop culture. The new millennium, however, produced a radically dissimilar outlook, cranking out Hip-Hop junkies with virtually no chance at rehabilitation. As the paraphernalia of materialism left its needle eye, the vein of creativity, originality, and fidelity that had sustained Hip-Hop hitherto collapsed, rendering the body powerless to the powder of the peddlers who could care lessas the aim, above everything else, is to make moneyabout the caricature of commercialism, commodification, and consumerism they were transforming Hip-Hop into. So maybe some adults had it right. Or maybe the blame was misplaced. We might never know. Maybe instead of belittling what work of genius their sons and daughters were crafting, they might have better served providing guidance and cautionsimilar to the kind Popa Wu and the older gods have made a life ministry ofto the vibrant generation coming after them. Again, we might never know. What we do know, nonetheless, is that though criticism hurts, it can also force the soul into self-examination and introspection, which, in turn, guarantees substantive reevaluation and reassessment. * * * A couple of weeks back, Motown legend Gladys Knight held nothing back in sounding off on Hip-Hop culture. Speaking with BlackNews.com, Hip-Hop, she said, has been bad, in my opinion, as far as the quality of the music and the stories that they tell. Its one thing to be raw about your history, but they took it to another level and it became vulgar. It has not elevated our industry musically. As a people, we have lowered our self-esteem with these performances and presentations, she said, referring to Hip-Hop. While some saw it an opportunity to return fire with fire, they might have missed a crucial point that poignantly expresses her pain and passion. Her remarks might dovetail with previous rants, rendered by older Black entertainers, about Hip-Hop, but rarely has the word We been used to call into sobering reflection Hip-Hops darker side. More often than not, other critics have chosen the less inclusive theymeaning otherto do the dirty work. In fact, it makes more sense that one who finds no redemptive value in Hip-Hop would dismiss it as something far removed from the true essence of Black art, thus unqualified under the canopy of we. But Ms. Knight, being the caring elderly stateswoman she is, went against conventional wisdom, thought, and practice. Thats significant. We stay highthats why old folks down us/ Lost, nobody found us; the force that surrounds us/ Aint with us; they get us on the ground and hit us/ We paint pictures of the chains under their names and scriptures/ Among the many responses to her comments was an editorial written by acclaimed North Carolina producer, 9th wonder. 9th, the preeminent beatsmith since J Dillas passing, showed just why he landed a gig two years ago as adjunct professor at North Carolina Central University. He lamented the refusal of the older generation of our people… to see or seek the GOOD facets of Hip-Hop, or even the cultural aspects of Hip-Hop when it comes to improvisation, creativity, research, and skill. The fact that TRUE Hip-Hoppers respect, glorify, and honor the great ones who came before us in our records, and the use of what we call samples speaks volumes. 9th theorizes the lack of patience in this older generation to hear […]