"Honey, check it out, you got me mesmerized,
with your black hair and those fat ass thighs."
It was eloquent and sophisticated (even with the profanity and innuendos). A language of its own that fed a side of me and gave me a LOUD voice. Before then I wrote "cute" stories in a tattered composition book that I passed around for others to read. They thought my stories were "nice," and I guess I was satisfied with that then. But after that song, I didn't want to be cute or nice anymore; I wanted to be profound.
It wasn't that I was new to hip hop. "Midnight Marauders" made it make sense, though. Before then, LL made me want a boomin' system, but I didn't know why. And I had been listening to MC Lyte and Yo-Yo for years, but hadn't recognized the drive. Hell, I loved "Bonita Applebaum," but didn't recognize the significance of the flow and the feeling. Heard the Native Tongues, but wasn't fluent. That album merged me with the music. Before then, I was just a spectator.
My mother gave me music early in life. Anita Baker, Loose Ends, Vertical Hold, and Patrice Rushen were awesome, but I experienced them through her emotions. When she loved a song, she turned it up! We would be singing and moving to the music in the car, and it was fun. But I was far too young and distracted by being young to own the feelings she had about it. She hated songs when they reminded her of my father, loved them when they were connected to her fond memories of growing up in D.C., and related to songs at a level I couldn't access. So I rode the emotion she drove. I liked what she liked, without reflection. I lived her life through her songs, and memorized words mechanically, though I made great effort to look and sound like I knew what I was singing about, and that was when we listened to DJ 100 (100.3 in D.C.), and they played EVERYTHING!
I began to prefer urban music (hip hop and R&B) when I got access to videos and uncensored versions of it. This was helped by my aunt's then-boyfriend who purchased his hip hop, raw and uncut, and blasted it from his car when we would all go out. He probably thought I had a crush on him because I always wanted to go out with him and my aunt, but it really was about the music.There was something about bass and someone taking the time to explain why they blasted their music that grabbed me. I was loving the chance to make my own decisions about what I thought was good music.
And then came Midnight Marauders...with it's animatronic tour guide and front cover full of MCs...and I recognized most of them. Just that alone made me want to put on my hip hop historian hat and find whatever music I could to give me a foundation (and I did). And I moved forward, as well. I started buying my own music, or at least asking for what I wanted. Midnight Marauders was really the first CD I listened to without skipping a track..and I got it. I even recognized Minnie Ripperton (introduced by my mother) in the background beat of "Lyrics to Go." I felt like I was earning my place in the movement. It wasn't about being cute and listening nonchalantly; it was merging the old with the new, and I was able to talk about hip hop and my opinion of it with those who tuned in.
Hell, the only reason I had my first crush was because we liked the same music (and he sounded a little like Q Tip...don't judge me). He didn't have a strong personality, and there were some back then, even in 8th grade. He was subtle and intellectual. We sat on the phone, and we listened to music. We talked about east and west coast rap before the media hype ( I wasn't a fan of Snoop's Doggy Style, which was out then too). He saw me the way I wanted to be seen, like the girl Common wanted Hip Hop to be in "I Used to Love H.E.R." That feeling (even without him) gave me the confidence to stick with the music.
It wasn't that I was new to hip hop. "Midnight Marauders" made it make sense, though. Before then, LL made me want a boomin' system, but I didn't know why. And I had been listening to MC Lyte and Yo-Yo for years, but hadn't recognized the drive. Hell, I loved "Bonita Applebaum," but didn't recognize the significance of the flow and the feeling. Heard the Native Tongues, but wasn't fluent. That album merged me with the music. Before then, I was just a spectator.
My mother gave me music early in life. Anita Baker, Loose Ends, Vertical Hold, and Patrice Rushen were awesome, but I experienced them through her emotions. When she loved a song, she turned it up! We would be singing and moving to the music in the car, and it was fun. But I was far too young and distracted by being young to own the feelings she had about it. She hated songs when they reminded her of my father, loved them when they were connected to her fond memories of growing up in D.C., and related to songs at a level I couldn't access. So I rode the emotion she drove. I liked what she liked, without reflection. I lived her life through her songs, and memorized words mechanically, though I made great effort to look and sound like I knew what I was singing about, and that was when we listened to DJ 100 (100.3 in D.C.), and they played EVERYTHING!
I began to prefer urban music (hip hop and R&B) when I got access to videos and uncensored versions of it. This was helped by my aunt's then-boyfriend who purchased his hip hop, raw and uncut, and blasted it from his car when we would all go out. He probably thought I had a crush on him because I always wanted to go out with him and my aunt, but it really was about the music.There was something about bass and someone taking the time to explain why they blasted their music that grabbed me. I was loving the chance to make my own decisions about what I thought was good music.
And then came Midnight Marauders...with it's animatronic tour guide and front cover full of MCs...and I recognized most of them. Just that alone made me want to put on my hip hop historian hat and find whatever music I could to give me a foundation (and I did). And I moved forward, as well. I started buying my own music, or at least asking for what I wanted. Midnight Marauders was really the first CD I listened to without skipping a track..and I got it. I even recognized Minnie Ripperton (introduced by my mother) in the background beat of "Lyrics to Go." I felt like I was earning my place in the movement. It wasn't about being cute and listening nonchalantly; it was merging the old with the new, and I was able to talk about hip hop and my opinion of it with those who tuned in.
Hell, the only reason I had my first crush was because we liked the same music (and he sounded a little like Q Tip...don't judge me). He didn't have a strong personality, and there were some back then, even in 8th grade. He was subtle and intellectual. We sat on the phone, and we listened to music. We talked about east and west coast rap before the media hype ( I wasn't a fan of Snoop's Doggy Style, which was out then too). He saw me the way I wanted to be seen, like the girl Common wanted Hip Hop to be in "I Used to Love H.E.R." That feeling (even without him) gave me the confidence to stick with the music.
High school was a high time for hip hop. André Benjamin (better known now as André 3000) had walked into my life, and he, alone, was enough for me to never turn my back on the genre. I had also entered the 36 chambers, went through "Reasonable Doubt" and "Volume 1" with Jay Z (with fond memories of the Hawaiian Sophie era), and eaten soul food with Goodie Mob. The music lost Easy E to AIDS and Biggie and 2pac to a media-created, bi-coastal war. Times were changing. Music was increasingly created from sampling. Executive producers became moguls. The music married fashion, and label-laced lyrics were born. And artistry was sold for industry.
By the time college rolled around, the Roc was in the area, Nas was Oochi Wallin, Niggas was On the Run Eatin' (N.O.R.E.) and Superthuggin', Cameron was in a Chariot of fire (a little thick and not wearing pink), the Hot Boyz were on fire, "Bling, Bling" had been coined by lil Lil Wayne, "No Limit" didn't have one, Snoop left Death Row, Mystical left Boot Camp, Bone Thugs were a memory, Wu Tang had triumphed, and not many were speaking the Native Tounge. DMX wasn't completely out with his crazy and we got Ruff Ryders and Swizz out the deal. Flip Mode gave me Rah Digga, and I am forever grateful for her "tight" flow and content, sans the leg spreading of Lil Kim and Foxy Brown. Things were changing, ushering in a new sound and hunger for fame as one millennium yielded to another.
So...why another blog? Because a voice - a woman's voice, in particular - who can look hip hop straight in the face and love it, criticize it, analyze it, and use it as a thermometer for a people in transition from one movement to the next is necessary. And though it may sound vain, I believe I'm that person. No matter what the radio is playing, hip hop is about the dialogue, not the dollars. And because it's not going anywhere, I think it's time we talk...
"Shorty let me tell you 'bout my only vice,it has to do with lots of lovin' and it ain't nothin' nice."
