just being christian

I wanted to write this post last week, but I didn’t. When people found out that Common had been invited to a White House poetry event, a fairly redonk poop storm broke out. Numerous times I fought the temptation to pound out 3,000 angry words about how dumb the haters were being. Fortunately, I was able to talk myself off the ledge through various streams of reasoning.

• I don’t want this blog to be political. I got into politics a few times on one of the previous incarnations of this site, and I never liked myself or the results. Yeah, I toe the line sometimes but this would have been an all-out plunge.
• I want this space to have a positive tone. That would have been blown to smithereens.
• I’m 31 years old, and it’s undignified to rant on the internet. Unless you’re ranting about why leggings aren’t pants. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
• Common didn’t freak out. He handled the situation with grace and dignity.
• Seeing as though I had TWO posts in a row featuring Common right before the flap went down, my impartiality was nonexistent. And people were probably starting to doubt if I was saved, so jumping into the fray would have sealed it. I’d be left behind when the world ends tomorrow. Bummer.
• The main point of my post would have been something to the effect of “old rich white guys who don’t listen to hip-hop need to ferme la bouche when it comes to rap music”. That sounds pretty racist. And ageist. And not nice.
• In the end, John Stewart not only did the dirty work of putting the talking heads on blast but he then went on Bill O’Reilly’s show and was part of a really good conversation on the subject.  I thought both guys made valid arguments. Granted, O’Reilly’s arguments weren’t the same ones that his colleagues were making when the meme started, but whatever. There is a lot to think about (and laugh about) in that conversation.

As time passed, I chilled the heck out. Circular breathing. In through your nose. Out through your mouth.

Then I remembered a conversation I had with my friend Aaron a few weeks ago.  We were driving through the Flint Hills talking about art and music and worship, and somehow the conversation turned to hip-hop. I’m sure he brought it up. He’s street like that.

So we’re talking and I mention how important I found Decoded by Jay Z to be. Artistically, it’s incredible. It’s full of pictures that add quite a bit to the writing. But the content is what really brings the book to life. The book consists of Jay Z telling stories from his experience, and then breaking down some of his favorite songs from his albums and explaining what the lyrics mean. If you have a context for what he’s talking about you’ll find some of the explanations to be rudimentary, but not everyone has that context.

I then went onto explain how much I appreciated what The Roots did with the CD booklet in their Rising Down album. While there wasn’t a detailed walk-through of each song, they did include a little bit about the inspiration for each track. Again, context. I didn’t realize all of that info was in there until I had listened to the album for a few weeks, and I found that reading through those notes helped me enjoy and appreciate some of the songs more.

Explaining all of this to Aaron was buildup for my main point: I wish hip-hop artists included brief notes with their albums so that it was easier for the public to understand and discuss their art.

At which point Aaron pushed back to ask why artists should need to explain their art. Shouldn’t the art be able to stand on its own? It’s a valid point, and one he has to make because he’s not just an artist. He’s an arteest*. (*make sure you roll the “r” there). It’s a point that I’ve taken to heart and pondered since our conversation. I’ve kept it in mind as I’ve listened to people talk about hip-hop and art and urban America over the past few weeks.

In the end, I still stand by my assertion, but only for certain artists. You don’t really want to know that Soulja Boy is talking about in his songs, for instance. From a sociological perspective, it can be an interesting discussion if you want to talk about the sexulization of Black culture, but it’s not like he’s adding to the discussion. But within a segment of the hip-hop community, context can be incredibly helpful. Sometimes necessary even, as hip-hop gets co-opted by various population groups whose experiences are very different from those of the artists. If people are going to talk out of turn and editorialize art that they just flat-out don’t understand, then it seems to me that it would behoove artists to try to dictate the discussion.

Is that a fair burden to put on artists? I don’t know. But it seems like a reasonable burden when one creates with the medium of metaphor. And it seems like important and worthwhile work when your voice is one of the prophetic voices that brings to life the struggle of the oppressed and the stories of the voiceless.

It’s an interesting discussion. What’s your opinion?