Snoop & Don Juan

Words By Patrick M.

The New Yorker‘s main music critic, Sasha Frere-Jones, wrote an article entitled “A Paler Shade Of White” in last week’s issue looking at indie rock music, specifically the “whiteness” of the genre. Frere-Jones argues that indie rock has evolved as a musical genre notable for its independence from the traditional rhythmic influences of African-American music. 20th Century American popular music has a long tradition of drawing from both white and black culture, and the first truly mega rock and roll groups (The Rolling Stones/Beatles etc.) were all influenced or directly indebted to much of their material from African-American blues. However, this article argues that changes in the legal and cultural landscape of America have halted the musical “integration,” process.

My knowledge of indie rock is limited to The Killers and Arcade Fire, so I’m unable to fully judge Frere-Jones’ thesis, although I’ll admit I don’t hear a lot of Muddy Waters in their music. For our purposes, I’m more interested in Frere-Jones’ statements about how this divide between white and black music has influenced hip-hop, and more specifically his argument that the rise of gangster rap into mainstream popularity was the tipping point in this process. I’m always very interested when mainstream art critics discuss hip-hop, because how they criticize, while often misinformed and contrary, provides insight into how rap music and hip-hop culture are explained to non-fans. Unlike say, Fox News, The New Yorker treats every art form seriously and as expected Frere-Jones shows respect for hip-hop culture and rap music. But he comes off to me as a bit of a sophist, making comments that sound like good arguments that. However when stripped down, they are oversimplifications or falsehoods.

Frere-Jones uses The Chronic and Snoop’s concurrent rise to stardom as the watershed moments of hip-hop in insulating itself culturally as an area where white musicians were not allowed. Why did this divide come up? According to Frere-Jones “…the potential for embarrassment had become a sufficient deterrent for white musicians tempted to emulate their black heroes. Who would take on Snoop, one of the most naturally gifted vocalists of the day?”

I think on this a bit. In terms of straight covers of rap verses…it doesn’t really happen that often, and for good reason. A rapper’s talents are a combination of lyrical abilities, voice, and images. You can’t cover Snoop because you aren’t Snoop, which has nothing to do with being white or black. If you are going to reinterpert a Snoop song as your own, you can either 1) create your own vocals, be they song or rap over the beat, 2.) get a live band to play an interpreted version of the beat with Snoop’s vocals unchanged, or 3.) Get Snoop to guest a verse on your own music. All three of these things are done all of the time in rap music. Moreover, there are countless examples of MCs challenging the top dog (no pun intended) be it Snoop, Jay, or whomever to get attention to themselves. Plenty of people take on Snoop, even if they have no chance of winning.

More incredulously, the first part of this quote reads like a huge barrier to entry into hip-hop exists for white artists and fans. That’s just wrong. In fact, it’s moving in the other direction. From audiences at shows, to DJs & MCs, to album buyers, to internet posters, the evidence of the diversity of the hip-hop scene is everywhere. In 2007, if a white kid wants to emulate his hero Snoop, he’s most likely going to become a rapper or a DJ (or a blogger,) rather than start a rock band that steals a few baselines from “Tha Shiznit.” To me, this shows a higher level of musical mixing, and ignorance on the part of the author.

Back in 1992, I am sure that many people thought gangster rap was a fad that would extinguish within a few years. This sentiment still exists today; The New Yorker also recently quoted Janet Reno as saying she “looked forward to a time when hip-hop was not so prevalant.” (Sorry Janet, I don’t think you’ll be around for that day.) To the more open-minded, like Frere-Jones, admitting a like for The Chronic meant admitting something else: Snoop and Dre were referencing a life, culture, and values, that were vastly different than his own, even if it was happening ten miles away from his apartment. And for some reason, be it the violence, guilt that this was happening in our cities or lack of self-confidence, what was “cool” for Mick Jagger in 1961 turned into embarrassment for yuppies everywhere.

But even if a whole segment of musicians were so turned off to these developments that they consciously or unconsciously forsake all black musical influence and created indie rock (a little preposterous), they are the exception. Two of today’s most popular artists – Amy Winehouse and JTimberlake – are as white as Dick Cheney, yet somehow have managed to get over any embarassment to incorporate hip-hop’s musical traditions into their work. Maybe such sentiments existed for Frere-Jones, The Arcade Fire and The New Yorker‘s audience.

In this case, the truth isn’t so black and white.