[When I wrote a Thanksgiving
post on Macklemore, I realized I had never written a full series
AmericanStudying rap, one of the most distinctly American, and most complex and
contested, musical genres. Well, that changes this week. I’d love to hear your
own Rap Readings in comments! And I have to highlight here the work of Dr. Regina Bradley, AKA Red Clay Scholar, the best current
scholar of all things rap and hip hop.]
On two sides to
the internationalization of rap, and what the trend helps us see in ourselves.
One of the most
unmistakable and important 21st century trends in rap has been the
rise of international artists, not just as
individual voices but as prominent
rap communities within many cultures and nations. I’m sure that many of
these international artists and rap communities have been present and evolving
for decades, but with the rise of the internet and digital culture they’ve
gained far more access to audiences around the world (and the world has gained
far more knowledge of these artists and communities). Each international
version of the genre, and even each individual artist, brings a distinct
perspective and angle that deserve our attention and engagement on their own
terms—but at the same time, I would say that the contrast I used Tupac and
Biggie to highlight in yesterday’s post, between more critical and more
celebratory rap traditions, has been clearly reflected and even amplified in
the genre’s international development. Strikingly illustrating that contrast
are two South Asian artists: South Korean hip hop
artist Psy and Sri Lankan-English
rapper M.I.A.
Both artists
have been making music for well more than a decade, but their most recent hits
can nicely represent their respective voices and goals. Psy’s “Daddy” (2015) is
even more over
the top and nonsensical than “Gangnam Style” (2012),
the smash dance hit that became one of the biggest songs and most bizarre
videos of the decade. M.I.A.’s
“Borders” (2015) literally embeds the rapper within a community of refugees
(perhaps
Syrian, although they reflect so many 21st century refugee
groups), as she uses both imagery and her incisive lyrics and perspective to
force us to think about both such communities and our own complicity in their
stories. The irony, of course, is that Psy hails from one of the nations most
overtly and complicatedly defined by a border and by international politics;
yet he has consistently made music that not only does not engage with those political
and historical issues, but that seems to embody the most escapist and silly
forms of popular music and culture. There’s unquestionably a place for such
forms—sometimes all we want to do is dance, and that’s an important human need to
fulfill—but even more of a role, I would argue, for the kinds of politically
and socially conscious music M.I.A. is making.
Moreover,
considering that more socially conscious side of international rap also helps
us think about America’s role in and relationship to the rest of the world. For
one thing, there are American rap artists who have overtly engaged in such
extensions: such as Mos Def, the Brooklyn-born artist who renamed
himself Yasiin Bey and has become, first in his music and now
in his very identity, a spokeperson for civil and human rights issues
worldwide; or Matisyahu, the
Jewish American rapper and reggae artist who has become one of the cultural
voices most consistently and compellingly engaging with issues such as Israeli identity and history
and the ongoing quest for
global peace. And for another thing, there’s no way to watch a video like
that for Psy’s “Gangnam
Style” and not recognize the complex combination of Korean and American
popular cultures that it features—and thus to think about where and how
American music and culture have spread, and what new 21st century
cultures are being created through these international trends.
Last rap reading
tomorrow,
Ben
PS. What do you
think? Other rap artists, songs, or analyses you’d share?
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