The state of things

Hip-hop music and culture has come a long way from its humble beginnings in the South Bronx in the early 70s. Bambaataas vision of an art-form that could be used to unite people through total freedom of expression has been commodified and perverted so much that you can take a trip to your local liquor store and buy joint papers with you favorite rappers face on the wrapper.

I’ve recently relocated to Los Angeles and decided this week to check out some spots in town. I hit up a trendy “hip-hop” spot to check out what LA had to offer. I’m not going to say the name of the place, they don’t deserve recognition, but what I experienced was frightening.

Upon entering my eyes were greeted with a hoard of hipsters in their mid twenties rocking whatever their local urbanoutfitter deemed to be “hip-hop”. The music the DJ, who must have been dropping acid, was playing was soulless modern renditions of hip-hop music from artists like Aesop Rock and whatever new artist Stones-Throw decided to put out this month. Not one person was inspired to get up out their seat and step, instead the audience sat while bobbing their heads in a trancelike state.

Have we forgotten that hip-hop music is supposed to make you feel something in your gut? Have we forgotten that it’s supposed to inspire and make you want to move?

Hip-hop isn’t something you put on Friday night, it isn’t a group of pretentious music and fashion snobs, it isn’t sold at you local mall for $35.99 plus tax.

Our culture is in serious danger of becoming what we and its pioneers strived so hard to disprove, that its nothing more but another passing fad. So to those of us who eat, breath and live hip-hop continue “pushing-along”, as Q-tip so eloquently said. To those of you who think hip-hop is wearing a certain brand or listening to rap music that accumulates to nothing more than a form of egotistical masturbation, duck-the-fuck down!

Peace, love and happiness
Pops