Words By Patrick M.

Chappelle Player Hater's Ball

While the timing of Hip-Hop’s death has been on people’s minds since Nas stated his opinion on the matter, I believe its nearest brush with mortality came in the late 90s.

At the time, a newfound schism had emerged, the brutally false distinction between “Rap “and “Hip-Hop.” A variety of things played as factors: East Coast-West Coast overload and humanities’ need to portray themselves as cutting edge led to the emergence of an underground movement. They refused to acknowledge the artistic merits of anything that touched a radio airwave or MTV. Yet they also represented the music’s deepest fanbase and their retreat from popular Hip-Hop led to the prevalence of the lowest common denominator music that still infects the game today.

Blackalicious – Shallow

The saving grace was that the elitist fans were wrong about the Rap/Hip-Hop dichotomy. Their scorn was directed towards artists that, in time, were proven to be amongst the most important contributors to Hip-Hop of the last decade. No two artists faced the wrath more than Jay-Z and Nas, who were accused of ruining the perfect “Hip-Hop” aesthetic of the 90s with albums like Hard Knock Life: Vol. 2. Peers in scorn were the southern stables of Cash Money and No Limit, who proved to be ahead of their time, pioneers in Hip-Hop’s demographic shift southward. Eventually, most underground heads accepted the rise of the South and bowed down to the quality of top-selling artists like the aforementioned Jay-Z and Nas, and their followers like T.I. After all, you can only ignore quality for so long. Fast forward to 2007, and it looks like this brush with death is history, with the fawning critical portraits of Lil’ Wayne by Pitchfork and the New Yorker being the greatest example of elitist acceptance possible.

I wonder if the schism has been truly healed or simply bandaged, destined to rupture again. Lately I’ve noticed, and been part of, a growing snarky criticism towards popular artists. Granted, the Soulja Boys and T-Pains are worthy of mockery in hopes that people will wake up and we’ll never have to hear from them again. But just as these “commerical” artists suck, there are plenty of underground artists equally adept at making crappy music and offending Hip-Hop’s sensibilities. Snarking people on the bottom doesn’t raise your cred as a hater though, so what’d be the point?

In the middle of the previous divide, one of the most lauded underground/pure Hip-Hop groups Blackalicious released a song called “Shallow Days.” On the first verse, Gift of Gab outlines his philosophy on why he doesn’t use violence in rhymes, eliciting one of the most common gripes at popular music of that day. But on the second verse, he turns his verse into a conversation with an unnamed “hustler” who has his own reasons for writing rhymes that reflect the reality of his life. Gift of Gab tells the hustler (and himself) that the true enemy is not the gangster/popular side of Rap, but the other forces that conspire to hold both of them down. The implied lesson is that wasting energy slandering each other acts to distract from the mutual demons we face as Hip-Hop fans.

It’s an important lesson, one we all have to continue remind ourselves to balance criticism with praise when it comes to our music, and to not shut doors on artists because of our perceptions. As critics and fans, we need to be honest about what we find good and what’s crap no matter how it’s packaged or who told you it’s hot. There’s nothing wrong with praising Akrobatik and Rick Ross at the same time if they both bring the goods. Support good music by passing it along to peers or going to a show if that’s your thing and you got some spare change.

After all Soulja Boy’s still fam.

Maybe the semi-retarded cousin that peed on your sister at the last reunion. But still fam nonetheless.

Don’t forget that.

Blackalicious – Shallow