June 20, 2011

I touched on the “real” concept a couple years ago, which still holds true, but I have a few more words on the topic for any newcomers.

Old Heads and over-privileged young’ns love to talk about “real Hip Hop” as if they’re purists of the genre of music. The oldies run the industry in 2016 but live in the past. They’re unwilling to accept progression, and would rather separate than unify – in order to justify their flawed logic, and exclusion of younger talent and those from different backgrounds. The young’ns that fall in line with their values typically haven’t had to work as hard on their craft to receive widespread attention, and utilize their networks, often instead of or in opposition to opening their minds to intellectual or artistic nuance.

These folks would rather see the genre of music catered to their stereotypical model of WASP (White Anglo-Saxon Protestant) administrators, Jewish journalists and Black rappers from major metropolitan areas, 4-8 bar Jazz and Funk Boom Bap loops, predictable rhyme schemes, and raps about killing, ganging up on, selling drugs to and pimping members of their communities in order to make it ahead. Old school Hip Hop is coo, and I’ll always respeck the classics, but many of those thoughts are outdated and counterproductive to improving the lives of our neighbors in the present.

Moving on… Nearly every part of America (especially Suburban, Wealthy and/or White) has an undying love for Drake and his melodic, emotionally open rap about romantic relationships. This is what they define as “real” because they can relate to it. They also typically have little or no personal experience with the content that struggle rappers are speaking to, so they assume that those stories are less true than those from a Pop star.

As it turns out, Drizzy doesn’t really write his own music, which reveals the irony of this assumption. But the artist continues to sell records regardless of who’s words they are. Essentially, Mainstream America doesn’t give a shit about the authenticity of what’s on the radio, whether it’s Hip Hop or not. Drake sells his soul, they buy it, and then they hand him their unyielding support – blissfully ignorant to the social damage they’re causing. Good for him, though. Get that money Wheelchair Jimmy.

Bustdowns love to throw around the “real” word too, like it’s their pussy on a weekend night at the local afterset. Usually, they’ve been fucked by so many lil boys with so lil potential that they’ve attributed realness to the size of the male gender willing to accept their caked on makeup, carelessly maintained bodies, passive aggressive attitudes, melodramatic social media postings, basic bitch revelations, and general laziness in life.

They’re still attractive enough to draw attention to their situations – and they know they’re biological clocks are ticking – so they’ll claim to be something special until they get “old”. You can be damn sure that they’ll try to drag down any man, woman and child that they have to on that path too. One of these females inspired this piece, and I appreciate her for that.

Takeaway: Be as genuine as possible. This means being honest with yourself, actively feeding your mind daily, and thinking independently without the validation of others. Regardless of how you or anyone else define “real”, being a genuine person costs nothing at all. If they tell ya otherwise, they’re uneducated. I know it’s hard, but please try… for America.

Happy Independence Day Weekend.

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