Can We Get A Revival?

Mumble rap. If I could time travel back to 1988 and speak with 15 year-old Ennis, he wouldn’t believe me when I would attempt to convince him that such buffoonery would actually be considered art in 2017. He’d laugh in my face trying to visualize the idea of Big Daddy Kane’s enigmatic lyrical flow replaced by a new style that barely incorporates legible lyrics over recycled trap beats.

Yeah…

Trap Music. So…I guess the fact that trap originated from the Southern dope-boy scene doesn’t really matter to mainstream music producers anymore, because it’s so widely accepted today. From commercials to suburban drama cinemas, trap music has officially saturated pop culture. Last week, I actually saw a country music video that used a trap beat under the music and lyrics.

Yeah…

2017 Artists. Let me be clear before I go here: the real beauty of music is its unwavering ability to evolve throughout generations. Music never parks. It’s constantly in a state of forward motion. Sometimes, the direction of change doesn’t always appeal to everyone, but music finds a way to touch all people through its multifaceted charisma. So what I’m about to say may not sit well with everyone. It’s my opinion and I’m sticking with it.

Kendrick Lamar, J. Cole and Drake may very well be considered the top contenders of this generation’s hip hop scene, but there is no way that any one of these young men can be considered the G.O.A.T. status. Someone, on a nationally recognized East Coast radio station actually claimed these three rappers as the greatest to ever grip the m.i.c.; the greatest of all time, people! I guess Rakim, Cool G Rap, and Ice Cube (just to name a few legends off the top of my head) must’ve ranked pretty close, but simply fell short on the radio personality’s top three list.

              Yeah…

Lately, I’ve been listening to classic 88′ and 89′ rap, giving me a soothing sense of nostalgia. I was 15 years old the first time I heard KRS-One say, “Fresh for 88′, you suckas.” Back in the day, lyrics were so dope and intelligent, you actually had to use a dictionary to look up some of the words the artists were rhyming, and constantly rewind the tape to keep up! James Brown’s musical library provided enough sample material for the artists of the Golden Era to make thousands of songs, using his unmistakable sound to lay the foundation for beats and background melodies. Roland TR-808 beat machines created ground pounding rhythms laid over those samples. Best of all, the DJ was still an integral part of each track produced, turning two turntables into bonafide instruments utilizing scratches and cuts.

Did somebody just say Grandmaster Flash?

Today’s music has the best technology of any previous generation. But, for all the wonder and simplicity of it, the kids today lack a sense of creativity the old school artists thrived on. In a sense, the better our technology grows, the lazier today’s artists become.

Where are the Eric. B & Rakim dynamic duos of today’s generation? Where are the Female lyrical heavyweight MC Lytes of the millennials? Where are the captivating story-telling Slick Ricks of the 1-7? Once upon a time, rap was thought of as nothing more than a passing fad, until it blew the doors off the hinges of every institution that tried to stop its ascent. But now…it seems as if the music has lost that fire that was once self feeding. Some say rap died with the death of the DJ. There may be some truth to that claim.

My music needs a revival. We need real MCs and DJs to breathe new life into the oversaturated and cliched, autotuned, 75/150bpm, trap music masquerading as art. Maybe what we need is a rebirth of the cool.

Yeah…

Maybe if the old school artists got together for one last cypher, it might set the train back on the tracks. I’m all for change. But…sometimes, you have to take a step or two backward, to continue moving forward.

Chuck, Lawrence, Antonio, Doug, Eric & William, Joe & Darryl, O’Shea & Andre, James-Todd, Sandra & Cheryl, Lana–this letter is a call to arms, big brothers and sisters. The thundercats need leadership. They could really use the guidance of the legends. The curtain hasn’t fallen on your legacies. I know you all have another 16 bars to give, in the name of saving this thing we call rap; this hip hop culture you all helped to make great.

Can we get a revival?

 

Phife Dawg, The Five-Footer

I’m sitting in my hotel room, reminiscing on classic 90s hip hop. The Low End Theory is on iPod repeat. Outside my window, snow blankets everything a somber white: winter’s last stand. It’s fitting actually. A few days ago, the weather seemed to be turning toward the new beginnings of another Michigan Spring. But this morning, the season took a downturn almost as if paying homage to a fallen hip hop icon.

Whenever and wherever “A Tribe Called Quest” was mentioned, just about anyone could immediately recollect timeless classics produced and performed by the popularly recognized three man crew fronted by Q-Tip The Abstract and Phife Dawg. Ali Shaheed Muhhamad masterfully grafted east coast style beats underneath jazz and funk melodies that seemed to glue the flowetic style of Phife to the quizzically hype style of Q-Tip. Together, these three brothers ushered into the 90s a style of hip hop that would be imitated but never duplicated. To this day, classics like Bonita Applebum, Butter, and Jazz(We’ve Got) still  hype underground parties everywhere. The brothers each had a unique style, all on their own. Together, they were living legends.

Last night, the Hip Hop community lost a true pillar of lyricism and word-wizardry. Phife Dawg passed away, leaving a void within the Hip Hop community that will never be replaced. The 5-footer’s gruff voice and smooth flow made it possible for short kids like me to believe in a simple fact: it doesn’t matter what you look like because game recognizes game. Your talents will make room for you, regardless of your size and stature. Phife’s unlimited bag of lyrical bombs decimated many a seasoned rapper, in his day and complimented Q-Tip on every turn. His swagger and cool demeanor were a stark contrast to Q-Tip’s energetic stage presence, but brought balance to the duo. He was a secret weapon. Those who were unfortunate enough to go up against him, unprepared, got served. Those who came prepared…still got equally served. Phife wasn’t a Robin to Batman; he was Wolverine standing next to Batman, both dangerous and prone to lyrically hurt you, if you crossed the battle line.

“I’m just a short brother, dark skin face/ Weigh a buck-fifty, 36 waist/ Hair is crazy curly, front like Mr. Furley/ To this day, I still believe that no MC can serve me.” – Phife: Vibes and Stuff

 

Rest in peace, brother. You will be missed.