Louisiana Cultural Vistas - Fall 2008 - (Page 94)

The roots and radicalism of rap music New Orleans’ contributions to a controversial genre Few pop-music developments of the past quarter century have generated more controversy than the emergence of rap music. Hugely popular and lucrative, rap is lauded in some circles as a cutting-edge reflection of urban African-American life and a creative outlet for the culturally and politically disenfranchised. A sharply differing view excoriates rap as musically simplistic, thematically crude, and socially pathologic. In terms of musical structure, many rap songs unfold without a tune, chord structure, or the dramatic resolution of harmonic tension. Such standard compositional devices propel most popular songs — in all genres — via the timehonored “A-A-B-A” formula of two verses, a bridge, and a final verse. Many rap numbers, by contrast, tend to be based on the insistent repetition of minimalist passages or riffs, with electronic effects replacing the traditional role of conventional musical instruments. Bass lines and drum patterns are often mixed in at disproportionately high levels. This approach can be highly effective, although it also bothers some observers, especially musicians of pre-rap vintage. “Rap is nothing but noise,” stated Snooks Eaglin, the renowned New Orleans R&B guitarist, while Leroy “Sugarfoot” Bonner, of the popular ‘70s soul band The Ohio Players, once told this writer: “There’s no such thing as rap music. There’s just rap — there’s no music involved in it at all. Music has melody, lyrics, and content.” As for rap’s lyrics, leading artists such as Kanye West write original songs — including the 2005 hit “Gold Digger” — with considerable substance, articulation, and no small amount of wit. A lower standard of creativity prevails in a vast body of rap material that glorifies violence and misogyny through little more than oftrepeated macho clichés. Unfortunately, the prevalence of such redundant, belligerent songs tends to characterize the entire public perception of rap and thus, by extension, reinforces old negative stereotypes about African Americans. This jumped-to conclusion is especially fallacious because it implies both that rap represents the totality of contemporary African-American culture — instead of just a small facet — and also that all rap listeners are black. In truth, rap’s audience and interpreters extend far beyond the black community, and a large percentage of rap revenue comes from a suburban white fan-base. Emergent forms of music are often viewed as subversive when they first appear, only to achieve critical mass over time. Consider the transmogrified Lil’ Wayne perception of Elvis Presley from a threateningly salacious demon into an esteemed cultural icon. By today’s standards, the once outrageous Presley seems tame or even conservative. Some of the perceived subversion within new music can simply be ascribed to ingenuous youthful enthusiasm. But there’s also an element of conscious delight in rebellion, the flouting of authority in general, and annoying one’s parents in particular. In the case of rap, such defiance often extends to symbols of political/societal power including government and law enforcement. If the nascent sexual revolution rattled notions of propriety in the 1950s, the implied insurrection in some rap songs may seem to shake the very stability of modern society, at least for some alarmed listeners. Rap is well into its third decade of popularity, however, and the sky has yet to fall. It seems safe to assume that many readers of Louisiana Cultural Vistas may share a distaste for rap music per some of the points mentioned above. But, to briefly utilize the collective we, a community of discerning cultural observers should avoid broad-brush dismissals that toss aside works of real merit. What’s more, we ignore significant contemporary cultural phenomena at the peril of our overall awareness. This general point is especially relevant regarding rap and Louisiana because local manifestations exert vast national influence. New Orleans represents an important stylistic school within rap, as exemplified by the huge success of prominent local artists including Master P, Mystikal, and Juvenile. In addition, rap has interacted with indigenous genres such as zydeco and brass-band jazz, creating some fascinating hybrids. What’s more, rap’s penchant for braggadocio has deep folkloric roots, both in African-American music — via blues-song characters such as Stagger Lee — and in the outrageous boasts of the rowdy river-man Mike Fink, to cite just two diverse examples. And, while rap is disdained by some blues and R&B musicians, all three genres are part of the same cultural continuum. The latest New Orleans rapper to dominate the national scene is Lil’ Wayne. For readers offended by four-letter words, there will be no point in playing Lil’ Wayne’s latest album Tha Carter III. The bark is far worse than the bite, however, as Tha Carter III also explores a wide range of instrumental settings, from retro ‘70s softfunk to delicate jazz ballads. Lyrically, the predictable verbal struts and barrage of MF-ing are balanced by such lines, in reference to Katrina recovery, as “no help from the government, no help from the mayor, just a steady beatin’ heart and a hope and a prayer.” Another commentary on the zeitgeist states “the sky’s falling and the only thing that can save us now is sensitivity and compassion.” Most significantly, lest anyone view contemporary African-American culture as 94 LOUISIANA ENDOWMENT FOR THE HUMANITIES\Fall 2008

Table of Contents Feed for the Digital Edition of Louisiana Cultural Vistas - Fall 2008

Louisiana Cultural Vistas - Fall 2008 Contents Friends Editor’s Column Louisiana Endowment for the Humanities New Orleans Immortelle The Historic New Orleans Collection Highland-Fairfield: The Historic Heart of Shreveport The Ogden Museum of Southern Art Perils of the Mississippi River Louisiana Foodways Harvest of Life King Oliver: The Forgotten King of Jazz Louisiana Architecture Jazz Notes Louisiana State Museum Eye of the Storm Louisiana Association of Museums Soul Resin Bookstand Sound Advice Forum

Louisiana Cultural Vistas - Fall 2008

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