Hip Hop History Part 7: 2001 to Kendrick

Part 1 can be found here.
Part 2 can be found here.
Part 3 can be found here.
Part 4 can be found here.
Part 5 can be found here.
Part 6 can be found here.

This is really meant to just catch up to the present day, while also highlighting just how much commercial hip hop (again, a la Tricia Rose) dominated the past few decades.

Once again, I’ll let you find all the T.I. and Ludacris and Young Jeezy tracks you want, and only grudgingly will talk about everyone’s favorite Canadian, Drake. We’re doing close to 20 years, so we’re going to change our format some, move out of strict chronological order occasionally, and explicitly recognize just how much we’re skimming.

#Key Cuts

Lose Yourself by Eminem (2002) seems like a good place to start. Often hailed as the greatest hip hop song of all time, even if you discount a lot of its success as being due to Eminem’s whiteness … well … it’s a helluva song. The first verse gets the love (there is, I think, something people find endearing about Mom’s spaghetti especially),  but it’s the third verse that deserves the adoration: it’s not particularly unusual in hip hop for the 3rd verse to break the rules of the first 2, usually just by a refusal to stop (see Public Enemy‘s Raise the Roof for another example), but it is done here to such incredible dramatic effect.

Hey Ya! by OutKast (2003). There are better OutKast songs from a lyrical perspective, and there are more creative OutKast songs overall. But there is no song that took over the public like Hey Ya! It’s a bit odd that André 3000 and Big Boi‘s biggest hit would be taken from the oversized, sprawling Speakerboxxx/The Love Below which also includes some of their most adventurous work.

Gasolina by Daddy Yankee (2004). The Latinx community has been present in hip hop from the beginning, and there have been Spanish language microgenres and hits since the early days. But reggaeton marked a new apex, combining hip hop with Caribbean beats and Spanish lyrics in a way that filled dance floors all over (and continues to generate a steady stream of crossover artists). Gasolina was inescapable that summer, helping to cement reggaeton as an international phenomenon.

Hustle & Flow (It Ain’t Over) by DJay (2005). Hustle & Flow–the movie and the soundtrack–offer a strong exemplar for the conversation about masculinity and hip hop. Both film and songs are very strong, featuring a great lead performance by Terrence Howard and a theme song (It’s Hard Out Here for a Pimp) by 3 Six Mafia that famously at the time had won one more Oscar than Martin Scorsese.

Paper Planes by M.I.A. (2007). An anthem about globalization by a militant Sri Lankan in collaboration with her American DJ boyfriend (Diplo, with whom she was breaking up at the time), featuring fantastic hooks and a beat made from the noise of gunshots and cash registers, made in sessions held in Brooklyn and London (and featuring a children’s chorus from Brixton) … what more could you ask for?

Wavin’ Flag by K’Naan (2009). I guess one answer to the previous question is, another song about globalization, this one by a Somali immigrant with highly political lyrics that was later co-opted by one of the worlds largest multi-national corporations as the feel-good theme of the World Cup? K’Naan deserved better, both in treatment and, more importantly, in the direction of his music. After a fantastic hip hop debut, The Dusty Foot Philosopher, he produced an overly produced, commercialized, R&B tinged album, and has never really recovered.

Headlines by Drake (2011). OK, OK, Drizzy deserves a mention, just for his chart dominating presence. And, there is something a bit different about the mixture of flow and generally more R&B/dance aimed stylings. Most blame the fact he’s Canadian.

Thrift Shop (2012) and Same Love (2013) with Mary Lambert by Macklemore & Ryan Lewis. 2005’s White Privilege is worth a listen as well, largely because it should severely complicate the conversation about Macklemore getting a Grammy ahead of Kendrick. But these two songs are the two horns of the dilemma for evaluating the Seattle native. On the one hand, there is the raucous, anthemic Thrift Shop which, for all of its feel-good attraction, is another example of a moment where the artists’ whiteness clearly impacted the songs’ success. The other is a heartwarming declaration of equality for all, couched in emotionally direct lyrics.

The Space Program by A Tribe Called Quest (2016). This was quite a surprise: not that ATCQ made another album–lots of aging musicians were doing that–but rather that the album was so strong, proving that it was possible to remain relevant, funky, and lyrically skilled. The album’s impact was deepened by the sudden passing of Phife Dawg shortly after its release, making it absolutely the final Tribe album (and even it was made without Shaheed Ali Muhammed as a DJ). Kendrick‘s guest track, Conrad Tokyo, is included on DeepCuts as well.

And then, Kendrick Lamar.

We don’t have time to really explore the full complexities of his output and their impact on hip hop. The short version is that, against the party anthem emptiness of the late 00’s, his voice rings out with more impact than might be expected, with some mix of his honesty and technical brilliance on the mic. Lyrically, he ranks up there with the great narrative voices in hip hop and, especially in terms of trying to reconcile a violent past with a sense of the future, is a clear heir to Tupac. Tupac’s songs had more pure funk to them, but a far narrower narrative scope.

The run of albums from good kid, m.A.A.d. city (2012) to To Pimp A Butterfly (2015) to DAMN. (2017) offer an insight into the contemporary urban African American experience that is unmatched. Here is how Tricia Rose defined hip hop in 1994:

A black cultural expression that prioritizes black voices from the margins of urban America. (Rose 1994)

So that’s that. And, of course, if it seems odd that we’re giving this much attention to a contemporary artist, we can just point to Kendrick‘s Pulitzer Prize: whether it was given to him as a stand-in for decades of hip hop artistry being ignored by various institutions, or for his career’s body of work, or for the contemporary relevance of DAMN., it was given to him.

On the main playlist, we have Swimming Pool (Drank), Money Trees, King Kunta, and DUCKWORTH. which combine to give a good enough overview to the range of Kendrick‘s output. Sing About Me, I’m Dying of Thirst and Poetic Justice with Drake (both 2012); i and The Blacker the Berry (2015), and DNA. and FEAR. (2017) are on DeepCuts.

As always, DeepCuts can be found at http://bit.ly/hiphophspva-deep

#The Moguls

Again, I assume finding songs by Kanye West and Jay-Z is pretty easy. But that doesn’t mean they can be ignored. This is an unusual sampling, perhaps, but I think sufficient to introduce their style and perspective. Their influence cannot be underestimated, but that alone should be seen as at least a little problematic, both in their misogyny and in their commercialism.

As an example, a selection of cuts from Kanye: “Jesus Walks” (2004); “All Falls Down” (2004) with Syleena Johnson; “Gold Digger” (2005), with Jamie Foxx; “Good Life” (2007), with T-Pain; “Stronger” (2007); “Heartless” (2008). And, “99 Problems” (2003) from Jay-Z for good measure.

#The South Done Rose Again

If OutKast represented the creative margins of southern hip hop, Nelly was its commercial center (an argument could be made for Ludacris, sure), and “EI” (2001) is a decent representation of his album, Country Grammar. But if you want to look at something between those two, check out Nappy Roots, whose Watermelon, Chicken & Gritz (2002) is a masterpiece in fuzzy, high speed, country life. Check out especially “Country Boyz” & “Awnaw.” Also included is UGK & OutKast‘s 2007 collaboration, “International Players Anthem (I Choose You).”

Perhaps the proof of the impact of southern hip hop came in the form of Bubba Sparxxx, who rode a self-proclaimed white trash strain to brief chart success, see 2003’s “Deliverance” for an example.

#Party Anthems

Party anthems became a huge commercial lane for hip hop, from “Get Low” (2002) by Lil Jon & The East Side Boyz & the Ying Yang Twins (along with, well, virtually everything else those two groups did independently or in collaboration) to 50 Cent’s “In Da Club” (2003) to the later vacuity of Soulja Boy‘s “Crank That (Soulja Boy)” (2007); Lil’ Wayne‘s “Lollipop” (2008); Flo Rida & T-Pain‘s “Low” (2008); Usher, Lil Jon & The East Side Boyz &  Ludicris‘ “Yeah!” (2011); or Sage the Gemini & IamSu‘s “Gas Pedal” (2013). This movement reached a sort-of logical and inevitable conclusion in trap–Fetty Wap‘s “Trap Queen” (2014) perhaps being the exemplar.

Nothing wrong with party anthems. But when that’s all you have, you end up with Pitbull. Just saying.

#The International Scene: Getting Grimey in the UK

Grime was–and remains–such a phenomenon that it deserves some attention outside of our usual tour around the world. There is a lot to unpack: first, the fuzzed out, hyper-forward bass is related to turn of the century technology, to more music being consumed at lower levels of fidelity through less sophisticated speakers/headphones/ear buds. Second, the means of production–you know, laptops and drum machines–are more and more available to more and more people.

Those forces combine with musical traditions in the UK–Caribbean traditions, hip hop imported from the USA, emerging ragga and dancehall, and others–and grime is born.

As with anything, the origins are disputed: Youngster & MC Viper‘s “Pulse X” was released in 2002, but most point to Wiley as the godfather of grime, and specifically to his 2004 album Treddin’ On Thin Ice (as well as the song by the same name) which, in addition to full songs, contained 3 isolated beats that gave birth to years of imitators (“Icerink,” “Avalanche,” and “Eskimo”). We’ve included the song “Treddin’ On Thin Ice” and the “Eskimo” beat here, as well as Wiley’s 2011 song, “Yonge Street (1,1778 Miles Long)” as proof that Grime–and Wiley himself–remain with us.

#The International Scene: Speaking in the UK

Spoken word has always played a role in hip hop, but nobody pushed those boundaries in more imaginative ways than The Streets in the early 2000s in the UK. The rhythms were hip hop, the lyrical structure was hip hop, but the delivery was … sing-song? Spoken? Whatever it was, Mike Skinner was certainly not spitting rhymes in the way anyone was used to.

But the words were consistently honest and direct and provided an insight into contemporary UK culture that nobody else provided.

From A Grand Don’t Come for Free (2004), we have “Could Well Be In,” and “Dry Your Eyes;” and from The Hardest Way to Make an Easy Living (2006) “Never Went to Church.”

There is nothing that really connects The Streets to Kate Tempest. But I had to mention her somewhere. Tempest was an award winning poet before she turned to hip hop, and it shows: there is a lyrical complexity to her work that is rarely found in the genre. And it’s not spoken word: Tempest has flow. “Theme From Becky” (2014) is a nice example of everything coming together for her on a cut.

#The Rest of the International Scene

It’s no longer enough to qualify to just be the first hip hop group from Argentina or Portugal or whatever. Some artists and/or cuts of note

• Brainpower (Netherlands). Intelligent lyrics (some in English, even). Representative track: “Even Stil” (2001).
• Tricky (UK). “Evolution Revolution Love” (2001).
• Absolute Beginner (Germany). “Gustav Gans” (2003) continues the derivative tradition of German hip hop. (An interesting and notable exception to this was the rise of pro-Islamic German hip hop during this time.)
• K-Dub Shine (Japan). “Setsumei Fuyou” (2003). Another way the genre spread: K-Dub Shine spent a year as an exchange student in Philadelphia, which lead to a very East Coast, and not-at-all Japanese sounding brand of hip hop.
• King Kapisi (New Zealand). “Whiplash” (2005).
• Awadi (Senegal). “Jamais vu” (2005). Senegal and South Africa have emerged as the richest hip hop traditions on the African continent, although vibrant scenes are found in Nigeria, Ghana (see MzBel‘s “16 Years” (2006) for an example of HipLife, a fusion of Ghanaian High Life and hip hop), and across Arab North Africa, and you can find the music virtually everywhere (for example, from Uganda, Peter Miles & Menshan‘s “One Time” (2007)).
• Subliminal (Israel). “In Tel Aviv” with Wyclef Jean (2006). There is a tendency to assign a certain rebellious nature to hip hop in foreign languages, and there is a need to look a little deeper. This may apply to standard sexism–like the cut from Fintelligens–or to an artist like Subliminal, whose politics are very conservative. It’s unclear if Wyclef was aware of this when they collaborated: he very well may have been, as Jean has often been associated with more conservative causes than his former Fugee partners.
• Lowkey can be seen as a KRS-One for the contemporary UK: uncompromising politics, and a style that stresses narrative over lyrical technique. See his 2011 album, Soundtrack to the Struggle, and as representative tracks, “Cradle of Civilisation” (with Mai Khalil) and “Something Wonderful.”

And, of course, we check back in with our French talisman, MC Solaar, who is finishing a run of four great albums. Check out “Au pays de Gandhi” (2003) and “Au clair de la lune” (2007) (with its shout-out to Ice-T‘s “6 ‘N The Morning” from way back when).

France also brought the politically charged Diam‘s, whose 2006 album Dans Ma Bulle dominated the charts and gave a very public, youthful voice of resistance to the inroads being made by the ultra-conservative forces in French politics, most notably in “Ma France à Moi.”

We had checked in with Australia’s Hilltop Hoods in the last entry; they continued to revive an old-school brand of hip hop. See their declaration of belief, “The Calling” (2003); their version of a party anthem, “Nosebleed Section” (2004); and their song about raising a child with Leukemia, “Through the Dark” (2014). Hilltop Hoods weren’t, of course, the only hip hop group in Australia, so we’ve included Drapht‘s “Who Am I” (2005).

#Turntablism

I’ve tried to avoid lists of names in this series, but we’re sort of at that point. If you want to find out what happened to the art of being a DJ, check out Mix Master Mike, DJ Spooky, Cut Chemist, Kid Koala, DJ Q-Bert, or DJ Shadow, among others.

#Local Success

My assumption is there are dozens, if not hundreds, of groups like Blue Scholars: hip hop artists that for whatever reason–some combination of poor luck, being a little too “alternative” (again, whatever that means), and, well, probably more bad luck–never made the jump from local band to national success. Hailing from Seattle, WA, Blue Scholars produced a string of first rate albums, and are here as a nod to them and all of the bands with similar careers.

“Southside Revival” (2005), “North by Northwest” (2007), “The Distance” (2007).

#Childish, Chance, and Tyler: The New Alternative? And, Aesop Rock.

It would be remiss not to highlight a growing swath of hip hop that is … well … alternative. This is a different kind of alternative, though: whereas the term historically has had connotations of both politics and a lack of commercial potential, these artists are simply not following mainstream templates for success.

The current manifestation owes a lot to the earlier work of Lupe Fiasco, but we’ve  represented them with “3005” (2013) and “Worldstar” (2014) by Childish Gambino (the performing persona of Donald Glover); “Sunday Candy” (2015) and “Cocoa Butter Kisses” (2013) by Chance the Rapper, and “48” (2013) by Tyler the Creator, Frank Ocean & Nas.

There needs to be some mention of Aesop Rock as well. This is a great link about the vocabularies of different MC’s. Aesop Rock is way, way, way out there on the right hand side. His style–while clearly hip hop in its delivery–is highly abstract, and, well, pretty white (if such a designation exists). He’s a bit of a polarizing figure–some dismiss him for a lack of flow and/or a lack of straightforward content; others see him as one of the most technically complex lyricists currently active.  “No Regrets” (2001) details a visual artist’s life; “Daylight” (2001) is more of a mood piece.

#Other

“Lighters Up” (2005) by Lil’ Kim. Lil’ Kim has been on a few tracks in this series, but we’ve never really focused on the aggressive sexuality she embodied. It’s a complex question: is there something feminist in the way she repositions and reappropriates male tropes? Is there power in doing so? “Lighters Up” avoids those questions, focusing on a dancehall influence tribute to Brooklyn instead. Consider this, along with “Work It” (2002) by Missy Elliott and “Tambourine” (2007) by Eve & Swizz Beats as a nod to the continued presence of female rappers in the mainstream hip hop game.

“Beat Box” (2005) by Matisyahu. Matisyahu was a bit of a phenomenon: a Hasidic Jew rapping in a reggae vein about religion, mysticism, and the mysteries of, as he would write, G-d. This, taken from his Live At Stubb’s album (Stubb’s is a performance space in Austin, TX), showcases his abilities more than his religion.

“Lord Give Me A Sign” (2006) by DMX. Still going strong.

“Imma Be” (2009) by The Black Eyed Peas. Remember, they performed at a Super Bowl halftime show: they were huge back in the day, and deserve some attention as an example of the highly popular, highly commercialized versions of hip hop that proliferated after the turn of the millennium.

And … we’re out.

Thanks for sticking with it, hope you enjoy the sounds and even learned something.

Hey, Chuck! We got some non-believers out there!
– Flava Flav

If Hip Hop has the ability to corrupt young minds, it also has the ability to uplift them.
– KRS-One

Back in the days when I was a teenager
Before I had status and before I had a pager
You could find the Abstract listening to hip hop
My pops used to say it reminded him of be-bop.
– Q-Tip of A Tribe Called Quest

Do you hear me, do you feel me, we gon’ be alright.
– Kendrick Lamar