Bruised Art

“DON’T PUSH ME CAUSE IM CLOSE TO THE EDGE/
I’M TRYIN’ NOT TO LOSE MY HEAD/
IT’S LIKE A JUNGLE SOMETIMES IT MAKES ME WONDER/
HOW I KEEP FROM GOIN’ UNDER”.
The message by Melle Mel and the Furious Five (1982)

Hip Hop used to be a way of venting the frustration of urban life. For some Hip Hop artists it still is, but for others it has become an avenue to rhyming the culture into a non-creative gold mine. The beat- the hook- the message- at one point in time, these three components used to sleep in the same song with each; some how the message has been tied, gagged, and thrown in a dark room. What happened to the colorful culture of Hip Hop?
How did violence shoot its way into every song on the radio? How did half naked women become the highlight of every music video? It’s because the youth are the biggest consumer of Hip Hop albums, and like a screaming child in a mall, they want what they hear and see. The adults in the Hip Hop community have to take on some major responsibilities for the music being rapped over the barren air waves. The legendary rapper Rakim has a simple solution “The little kids are the ones that get the most flack from what we’re doing. We got to wake up and see what we’re really doing. We need a tune up in the game right now” If the 50 cent[s] and the Jay-Z[s] of the culture adopted Rakim’s philosophy, the youth would pull their pants up and change their vernacular to a more respectable hue.
The problem is that no one wants to make intellectual Hip Hop anymore. Artists like Common Sense, Dead Prez, and Mos Def are writing conscious lyrics, but are not selling any records. Bread isn’t being broken into the proper loafs as it should; the smarter and more clever the lyrics- the more you receive crumbs instead of the bakery. Money and morals are being mentioned in the same sentence [with no commas]. The message that once served as the hierarchy of Hip Hop needs to be resurrected.
“When one doesn’t know about the other ones’ culture/
Ignorance swoops down like a vulture/
‘Cause you don’t know that you ain’t just a janitor
No one told you about Benjamin Banneker/”
You Must Learn by KRS1
Hip Hop stated out with head spins and pop locking, but has turned to gun totting, foul mouth-ed lyrics. Am I lost in the lyrics of an ancient culture? Am I allowing my analysis to be blurred by the old tape deck in my memory?
In a world of 50 Cent[s], Snoop Dogg[s], and Soldier boy[s], Hip Hop has fell into a grave that is going to be almost impossible to rhyme its way out of. I’m too young to have truly experience the days where Hip Hop was at its summit (its birth), but I’m also too old to engage in its still-born offspring. I must admit, Hip Hop’s bastard child uses such beautiful language.
“Ahh Some Say Im Wrong for f*ckin a ni#ga’s bit*h/ The same ni*gas that do the same sh*t/ Suck my di#k quick, Getin it rich quick” Ying Yang Twins So I ask you one final question, doesn’t that sound like poetry!