Maybe I shouldn't be eating at Wendy's anymore...

but wait there's more...


Verdict: Wendy's you are not Hip-Hop.

It's always better when it's free

So for the past couple of weeks I've really been thinking about my music consumption and how I seldom buy albums these days. I'll be real, I tend to "come up" on major industry stuff and just buy the underground or local stuff. Well today I thought I'd share with you a free, that's right, no cost, no emails from the RIAA, no bit-torrent necessary, mixtape so you have something to ride with this weekend. Follow the link for a tasty audio treat, enjoy!
Facechanger Mixtape

no homo... black male intimacy

So for the past few years nearly every time I hear Black men nearing a point of emotional intimacy two words quickly have haunted the moment, "no homo." Picture this Sicily... err, I mean, so picture this, you've mentored a brother for the past 5 years, talked him through some major life issues: college, divorce, depression, women, etc. and he's about to take off for a far off land. He takes a moment to express his thanks for the love that you've showed him over the years and how you've improved his life and he punctuates his statement with "no homo." Not only has it happened once, but it's happened multiple times with the brothas that I've worked with. But the reason it urks me so much, is that so many of these brothas are the "good brothas", the brothas who have attempted to push on issues of gender, inequality at large and sexuality... well maybe not so much the latter.

The "no homo" movement seems to have grown directly out of Hip-Hop's obsession with hyper-masculinity. As Hip-Hop has pushed the masculine through performance of actions, be they violent or non-violent, the realm of intragender intimacy has consistently been silent. Now of course there are songs for my crew, my niggas, even back in the day my posse, but these songs fall far from carving out a space to discuss close relationships between Black men (except when the subject of the song is dead, then you can talk freely). But this is nothing new to our community, as Black men at large, and those embedded within the Hip-Hop generation.

Now to be clear, I don't think Black men lack intimacy, I think we simply truncate it for the "sexuality safety." To me sexuality safety is about the maintenance of an image of heterosexuality (meaning: I'm a guy, I mess with women); and a by extension a vehement rejection of homosexuality (meaning: I'm a guy, I'm not for that gay shit). They are two sides of the same coin in our music. While some are already chomping at the bit to say, not all of Hip-Hop is like this, let me take this moment to pre-emptively strike like GWB and douse some of your righteous indignation and remind you that many of our favorite rappers follow this logic. Nas, Common, Andre 3000, the list goes on. Just search through their catalogs, it's there!

Hip-Hop's response has been to dodge or turn a blind eye to homoeroticism, but sometimes it comes full frontal. While rumors about rappers being homosexual have long directed Hip-Hop (check out Marc Lamont Hill's forthcoming book on more of this). In recent months, rumors have become specters. The Lil' Wayne and Baby kiss started a firestorm, that I hoped would have lead to a different discussion of male intimacy, but lord knows that fire burned out as quickly as it went ablaze, leaving most people with the same ideas of equating black male intimacy with sexuality. In recent days T-Pain has gained significant attention regarding his comments about Ray J's sex tape and endowment. After making multiple comments about penis size he attempts to absolve himself of homoerotic overtones by saying "no homo." See, no harm, no foul. No way in hell. Most folks who read his comments and reacted offered up their own theories of the boundaries of masculinity and appropriate references to another man's physique. The bottom line that could be taken from most comments that I could stomach was "a real man never even notices another man's penis", sure, right.

While the popular attention that Wayne and T-Pain garnered is important, it tells us little about how Black folks, and Black men in particular, understand the boundaries between intimacy and sexuality. I'm most concerned with the use of "no homo" when it comes to interpersonal intimacy. I know that we as Black men have historically bottled emotion, but punctuating our sharing with "no homo" is troubling. By using "no homo" are brothas saying the only men who share emotions are homosexual? Are brothas saying that sharing emotions will immediately lead to some form of sexual encounter? And more importantly, to myself I've asked and am asking, do I create an environment with my brothas where they think I'm so anti-gay that they need to qualify their emotions and distinguish them from sexuality?

P.s. Sorry I accidently had the comments turned off on this post, now they're on!

That Mass Appeal

Remember when Gangstarr was talking about that mass appeal? I've always felt there were some rappers that had that mass appeal, but never could quite put my finger on it. Now the folks I'm referring to are groups or individuals that you wouldn't suspect would end up on my musical rotation, but when they come around, they get burn, consistently. These are the groups that you see doing collaboration and go... wtf? Four groups/rappers quickly come to mind:
1) UGK - Undergroud Kingz
2) DJ Quik
3) MOP- Mash Out Posse
4) Too $hort

Real talk, why is it so hard to resist a UGK song? I was listening to that new Ear Drum and Talib's collabo with UGK immediately pulled me in. And it's not just me, one of my homegirls recently commented when she gets to the pearly gates they were gonna be like, "Wait, you're a feminist and you listen to UGK! They had a song call Pregnant Pussy." The fact is that no matter where most of our morals stand, there's something about these folks' music. I've never been a big Quik fan, but I know a lot of headwrapped, vegan, third-eye concentrating, backpack wearing, Quik fans. Why? I'm not sure at all. His and Short's music really fall in the clasical etymological definition of miscogyny. My favorite of them all is MOP. Since I first heard them, I've been down to rob the bodega and yap fools. Why, I don't know, but their material is so ill to me. For some their guilty pleasures, but to me they're as much a part of Hip-Hop as break beats and BDP. I guess this will help motivate me to retype my long post on Hip-Hop and Accountability that got lost in cyber space.
There is no true point to this post other than to say out loud that these groups are transcendent and wonder why. Why could they easily be categorized as exploitative and harmful, but still draw me and others in. Is it there content, their flow, or something beyond that. You feel me? And for the all the UGK Kast fans this is my joint!

I declare this Hip-Hop Week

Aight, first thing's first, I know there is already a Hip-Hop Appreciation Week, but I usually miss that and right now I don't really care. Just kind of been feeling like my last 5 posts or so, in the cue are Hip-Hop related. So I thought I'd take this opportunity to pop above water to post some things that have been on my mind. As Jay said, "Just my thoughts ladies and gentlemen, right or wrong, just how I'm feeling at the time."

Carry on Tradition...?

Nas' song has been burning through my head as of late. Could be the late nights, early morning, the travelling, the writing, but whatever it is, it's in my head. The events of the past week with Don Imus really made me think about the traditions that we carry on or let go. After a week Imus has been dropped from TV and Radio syndication, largely as the result of two folks who will inevitablely be chastised, berated and hated. The names Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton are (in)famous. In talking to people, even the ones who have no clear "politics", they can always muster an opinion on Jesse and Al and "the old civil rights guard." What's yours? I'm going to give you some of mine below.

I guess part of this is written in defense of Jesse and Al, especially when I see more and more people calling for their 'removal from office' or any other downgrading metaphor. We all know neither of them are elected officials, but even without election, they "play their position." When many folks see Jesse and Al they look at them as glorified camera and victim chasers, but honestly have you ever thought that it's the cameras that chase them now? Now granted to get the attention they now garner, they had to chase some cameras over the years, but as a dear friend once pointed out to me, when Jesse and Al show, the media shows. Even whenJesse and Al threaten to bring the cameras out change gets facilitated. Now I don't think these are the brothas and sistahs who are in the trenches locally every day, that would be ridiculous to suggest, but sometimes they get the shine to those who need it in the trenches. The combination of their visibility and hard grassroots work can lead to some really impressive outcomes.

Sure Foxnews will wield Tawana Brawley and Hymietown references as their alpha & omega, but for all their "failures" haven't they brought some justice forth?As we step out to combat injustice the targets on our back become large, sometimes it blows up in our faces, but nonetheless, shouldn't we remain committed? Who has the committment and conviction to speak out on these things?

So when we talk about removing the old guard and redefining our goals as a people, who will carry on tradition? For that matter, should tradition even be carried on? Surely Al and Jesse aren't the only tradition we have. If you go to any locale you will find small time heroes who lead big lives, but never get/got the respect they deserve. Over in Benton Harbor a warrior is imprisoned. In Detroit a warrior slashes weekly with her pen. A month ago we saw a legend give his last public words down the street from where much of it all began. The struggles we engage in daily are local, but are at same time global.

A couple years back I really anticipated Todd Boyd's book the New HNIC: The Death of Civil Rights and the Reign of Hip Hop anxiously. But when I finally read it, I was disappointed. Mainly because questions of renewal and redefinition of the movement were largely glazed over or missed. As the young vanguard, do we believe in leaders? What does new leadership look like if so? What will be the moments that define our lives and our children's lives, because always remember a few short moments can change the course of history.

Conflict... Blood... Peace Diamonds? Russell you are still not Hip-Hop!

A couple years back Rosa Clemente penned a heavy letter about Russell Simmons called Russell Simmons You Are Not Hip Hop. Back in 2001 it caught me, it helped me remember why I got sick of people sweating Russell. It got me to realize why I did a little "mouth vomit" when I heard someone refer to him as the Godfather of Hip-Hop (didn't Herc already have that title?). Recently Russell opened his mouth again, this time to defend the diamond industry.

This past weekend I shelled over my hard earned bills to see Blood Diamond at the theaters. Going in, I had my expectations set at the level that I set them when I'm going to listen to a Method Man album (that's pretty darn low). But I was rather impressed with the film. Of course there were your standard issues of gender and race (e.g. Black Africans find White woman in the bush and she charms them with her camera -- don't even get me started) but the message about conflict diamonds was very clear to me. Conflict diamonds help support war and distinguishing between a conflict diamond and free diamond is damn near impossible. Neither of which were new concepts to me, but I thought they were both well illustrated in the film.

When the film was rolling out, I was interested to see that Nelson Mandela came out with a statement about diamonds and their positive impact on African economies. I was immediately a little bit concerned, as were others. Eventually, I had to wrestle with Mandela potentially selling out or if there was a degree of pragmatism attached to support of the diamond trade for the wealth or rather reduction of gross debt for African nations. I think my history with Nelson Mandela allowed me to take his statements within a larger context, when Russell Simmons opened his mouth however, I heard cash registers ringing.

Who the hell died and made Russell chief of Diasporic Affairs? And can I really take him seriously if Jim Jones is on his side with a diamond crusted bracelet? Okay, that's just my bias! For years, I saw Russell Simmons as I saw Bob Johnson, a damn good Black capitalist (not endorsing this just calling em like I see em). Now with his explicit support and retort to Blood Diamond, I see he's graduated to a damn good (Black) capitalist pawn... I wonder is there a difference between the two?

It's Bigger than Hip-Hop

I'm guilty of it. You're probably guilty of it, you know, it usually goes something like this "I listen to hip-hop, not rap." The distinction between hip-hop and rap is one that "heads" have been making for years. While there are number of nuanced arguments about Hip-Hop as a culture, the hip-hop versus rap dichotomy is outdated and useless.

So the gist of the argument is usually any commercial rap music is classified as "rap" and anything that may be underground or semi-authentic is "hip-hop." The water usually gets murky when you ask about folks who have cross over appeal, but ya'll know what I mean. I recently realized, I can no longer do this bullshit distinction between hip-hop and rap. First let me make it clear, I'm not saying that I can't tell some difference between the two. This doesn't mean that I don't watch 106 and Park with a pain in my stomach. None of that changes, but my decision is one that is much like many disgruntled married couples, I can't split (hip hop from rap)... because of the children.

When I first started spewing the distinction it was in cinder block dorm rooms, but now that I hear the argument I hear it on TV, on websites, in blogs. As someone who considers himself somewhat of a scholar of Hip-Hop, I can appreciate a theoretical distinction. But I'm trying to look at it from the bottom up, not top down. I really started thinking about this distinction when I was reading blac(k)ademic's post on NYOil's video "Ya'll should all get lynched".


Over at blac(k)ademic NYOIL's video and comments have created quite a stir. In reading through I recalled that people like to distinguish between hip-hop and rap. As someone who consumes more hip-hop than rap, I can honestly say, they're not all that different. Let me go through my issues Rolodex: misogyny - check, homophobia - check, violence - check, drugs - check (yes, weed counts), foul language - check, materialism - check (yo rapping about your sneakers counts too!).

So what's the deal with pretending like hip hop music is the holy grail and rap is a red keg cup? Maybe I've just been reading into to it too much but so much of our quest for authenticity in Hip-Hop now is social class related. Do you think it's a coincidence the only location you can still hear hip-hop on the airwaves is college radio or satellite radio? I remember a couple years ago hearing someone say, "Hip-Hop didn't die, it just moved to Long Island and wears a backpack." Let's be real, if you've been to a hip-hop show anywhere in the US in the past 10 years you know like Common said, "When we perform it's just coffee shop chicks and White dudes." The quest for the latest hip-hop takes us to message boards, to overpriced coffee houses, and to Tuesday night performances at our local blind pigs. There's something peculiar about that to me. If we're so hip-hop and the music is the music of the people, why don't I see my people in those spaces? Could it be that my people are in a different place?

At the opening of NYOIL's video you see an image of Cam'ron. Now I will admit that I'm not a huge Cam'Ron fan, but I do listen to some of his stuff.

Aside - Want a fun game? Here it go! I try to see how many "Cam'Ron lines" I can make up using Ben and Jerry's ice flavors- try it! Here's a head start, "I was chilling with a married mocha honey, her man walked in, so I chubbied the hubby."

Sorry, like I was saying, many hip-hop heads don't really mess with Cam'Ron but you know who does? Black youth! Please just go up to Harlem and see if Dip Set isn't an epidemic. See if they aren't Chicken Noodle Soupin', see if in Atl they're not Snappin and getting Beamed up. My friends, the music that is reaching our kids is no longer Self-Destruction, it's more Shake Sumthin'. If that is where youth are, if that is where the future is, if that is who is supposed to be affected by the Hip-Hop movement, that's where I need to be, if I truly care.

Now being there doesn't mean you have to support all that it is, but it's foolish to hold onto something that is marginal and disconnected from our youth. Trust me, I feel like I'm part-time hip-hop librarian because I always have to go into the annals to find songs that concentrate on a single issue that I can use with youth on social issues. It means that we gotta meet Black youth where they are at and move them forward from there. It means talking to them about why NYOIL makes a song like this and then walking through the history of the figures he mentions, the history of lynching, and the histories of power. In that process you're going to challenge whoever made the original song, but music is a gateway to our social world, not a perfect explanation.

We can take songs like this as an opportunity to reach more youth or we can continue to turn up our noses and say we listen to hip-hop and not rap. I think NYOIL understands something that KRS didn't. I think Dead Prez understands something that PE didn't. I think Little Brother understands something that you don't. You can speak to people without preaching to them. That should have been the message we got from "The Message." Instead, we're left dropping crazy diatribes about neoliberalism to White kids in Schenectady. I think in 2006 we have to be ready to approach hip-hop and its potential differently than we have the past 10 years. Realize if Hip-Hop is the culture, the music that still gets to people is rap.

Idlewild Review

Making films is hard. Making hip-hop films is harder. Making a film that plays with time and space is something that Outkast did well. I went to check out Idlewild a couple of days ago and was really moved to write a review, then I got lazy. This is my third incarnation of the review. Enjoy.

Not your Idlewild?
There has been a little bit of controversy around the movie being set in Idlewild, Ga (a mythical place). A year or so ago I heard about Idlewild, MI and thought that the movie was going to have a special connection to the area. I didn't particularly have an issue with the name and the setting, which was cool with me, but not with some.

"They take something with such historical significance as Idlewild, take the peripheral aspects of it, and turn it into a shoot-'em-up, bang-bang minstrel show. It demeans me as an African-American."

That was the comment of Coy Davis, the director of Whatever Happened to Idlewild. I hear that it's a good documentary, but I was pretty suprised that he would come out his neck so quickly about the film. There was shooting, but it wasn't a shoot-em up film. A minstrel show, interesting... there weren't even any White folks in the movie that I recall. There was the presence of the Black Middle class,decent representations of the juke joint, commentary on the "chitterling circuit", oh I guess characterizing Black culture in rural areas is minstrely ... maybe I missed it. I think it would have been nice to set it in Michigan, but maybe people like Davis' reaction dissuaded that possibility seriously.

Also, I think the name Idlewild represents the condition of the place. Percival (Andre) was "idle" in his place in the town, while the Church represented a dynamic setting with almost a religious excuberance from its attendees and was often "wild".

Storyline and Acting
I think the story line was solid. I didn't expect to have a thriller or many plot twists, instead it was straight forward movie. One where the viewer is encouraged to suspended disbelief. As the film opens the cinematography moves you into the images of old and I felt there (in part) for the time in my seat. I think the script was written close enough to Big Boi and Andre's characters that I didn't feel uncomfortable with their acting, even though Faizon Love was a little over the top, but delivered some great quotables.

Time Travellin'
The times that I was taken out of the old occured via the music. If the film made me realize one thing, it is that Andre is a musical genius! I wanted to see how they blended hip-hop music and classic juke joints. I was kind of shocked honestly, most of the music performed in the film were tracks that Outkast had already done, with some very small alterations (i.e. no references to tapes, cds, baby please...). I coudn't quite figure out why they didn't remix more stuff or change up the messaging. My best explanation is that they were attempting to challenge our conceptions of time and the fluidity between the juke joint and the hip hop spot. Some of the music meshed seamlessly (Andre's She Lives in my lap) while other moments felt odd (Big Boi rapping Church into the camera). The fluidity with with they treated time and progress was best represented by Percival's room and his wall of clocks. Throughout the film I kept thinking of afrofuturism, but that may just be me seeing too much Andre in the film.

My Verdict
Overall I was impressed with the film. It was an ambitious and well executed. Of course there could have been things that were done better, but the overall project was pretty fresh. It's what Carmen could have been (lol).