Hip-Hop: CTRL'ing the Narrative
A Critical Exploration of Self-Expression, Race, and Systemic Injustice in Hip-Hop Culture — "Has hip-hop done more damage to African-Americans than racism in recent years?"
Content Warning: This essay explores complex and sensitive themes within hip-hop culture, including discussions of racism, violence, sexual assault, and other explicit content. Lyrics quoted in this text contain potentially distressing material. Reader discretion is advised.
Hip-Hop and R&B, combined, represent the most popular genre(s) of music in the United States. With a total volume of 27.7%, the duo are topping the charts. Being a genre often-defined by spoken-word, hip-hop finds itself being the written expression of a growing culture. Under the banner of hip-hop, nothing is sacred—and [almost] everything is permitted. Topics such as body dismorphia, post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), suicide, depression, political corruption and even climate change all lend themselves to hip-hop’s scope of self-expression. However, one cannot consider hip-hop progressive without also reflecting upon the negativity that hip-hop allows. Misogyny, ableism, homophobia, sexual assault, murder, and drug trafficking are topics that most critics chastise when discussing the genre(s) at large.
Fox News’ Geraldo Rivera is the most notorious (not the B.I.G.gest) critic of Hip-Hop. Regarding Kendrick Lamar’s BET Awards Performance of the Grammy-Award-winning song “Alright”, Rivera said:
“This is why I say that hip-hop has done more damage to young African-Americans than racism in recent years. This is exactly the wrong message.” -Rivera
Is Rivera correct? Though his comment was in response to the lyric; “And we hate po-po / Wanna kill us dead in the street, fo sho.” Rivera may otherwise have a point. What if the commercialization of Hip-Hop is establishing a self-perpetuating cycle of violence and drug abuse that leads African Americans and minorities down a path of destruction and chaos? What if this music meant for self-expression is, in fact, the catalyst that breeds racism?
Consequently, numerous experts find that their research might correlate with this theory by providing evidence that some of Hip-hop’s more suggestive themes negatively impact the behavior of its listeners. For example, according to a series of experiments by Craig Anderson and his colleagues of the American Psychological Association (APA), those who listen to violent music show increased levels of aggression in the short term, with long-term effects being undetermined.
“One of these experiments hosted by Anderson and his colleagues asked over 500 college students to listen to such violent songs as “Shoot ’Em Up” by Cypress Hill and “Hit ’Em Hard” by Run DMC, and such nonviolent songs as “Finger Lickin’ Good” by the Beastie Boys and “Love vs. Loneliness” by the Suicidal Tendencies. Researchers also included the lyrics of humorous, violent, and nonviolent songs like “A Boy Named Sue” by Johnny Cash and “Hello Mudduh, Hello Fadduh” by Allan Sherman.
After listening to the songs, the students performed various word-association tasks to test whether they linked more non-aggressive words with aggressive words or completed incomplete words to form aggressive words. They also reported their feelings of hostility as measured by the ‘State Hostility Scale’, ranking sentences based on their emotions after hearing the songs.
The results for the students indicate a relationship between violent song lyrics and increased aggressive thoughts and feelings of hostility. According to Anderson, humorous, violent songs also increased aggression levels relative to humorous nonviolent songs. The findings held even after the researchers controlled for the listeners’ gender and personality differences and their reactions to the different performing artists and musical styles.”
This style of study is pertinent, as it challenges the idea of the Greek Catharsis Hypothesis, which suggests that pent-up emotions, anger, and frustrations can be purged by expressing one’s feelings through aggressive lyricism.
Tyler, The Creator
Before hosting his festival, Camp Flog Gnaw inside Dodger Stadium and securing two of his own fashion lines, Golf Wang & Golf Le Fleur, Tyler, The Creator was a foul-mouth rapper known for brutalist punchlines that held no regard for the feelings or emotions of anyone or anything; himself included.
In his debut mixtape, “Bastard”, an eighteen-year-old Tyler describes his upbringing through a harangue of verses that are everything but nonviolent. The titular track Bastard directly references self-harm and Tyler’s suicidal thoughts that hinge on the impulsive urges he’s feeling. Darker thoughts and brooding fantasies loom across Bastard, but none stand out like the opening lines to the song AssMilk. Fellow Rapper, Earl Sweatshirt along with Tyler, spits these series of verses:
Uh, addicts arise when I arrive In this cracked crack fag back slab in disguise Fat sack of knives in the passenger side Bitch, reach for the door, get your access denied I’m not an asshole, I just don’t give a fuck a lot The only time I do is when a bitch is screaming “Tyler, stop!”… To have a bitch ready to stab a clit with some glass and shit Your whole gang’ll be diminished, bunch got the Brady’s in it Spit sick shit like my saliva got the rabies in it Fuck rap, I’ll be a landlord so I can rape the tenant’s daughter Leave my house with a new stomach, and a baby in it
Through these lyrics, alongside other cases, Tyler, The Creator, was banned from touring the United Kingdom by then-home secretary Theresa May. Her reasoning?
Tyler was inciting terrorism. While far-fetched, digging deeper into Tyler, The Creator’s discography provides some enlightening details to her reasoning. In his debut album, Goblin, the song Radicals, has the following lyrics that repeat throughout the entirety of the chorus:
Kill people, burn shit, fuck school I’m fucking radical, nigga I’m fucking radical
In the wake of America’s lax gun control and yearly mass shootings, it was almost too easy to blame the artist — even more so when several students worldwide have been found to have written these same lyrics in schools (Fitzmaurice; Kent; Milwaukee; Kochhar and Sechopoulos).
Even Hip-Hop’s artists have a level of self-realization regarding the genre. Multi-hyphenate Donald Glover, who performs under the moniker Childish Gambino, said to the New Yorker:
“Y’all are forgetting what rap is. Rap is ‘I don’t care what you think in society, wagging your finger at me for calling women “bitches” — when, for you to have two cars, I have to live in the projects.” (Friend and Glover)
For greater context, Glover says this about the story of Tay-K, a rapper who was found guilty of murder for his involvement in a home invasion that occurred in 2016. At the time of the murder, Tay-K was only sixteen.
Numerous lyrics illustrate the environments and scenarios that have produced some of the industry’s most recognizable stars. However, with 37 million Americans living in poverty — a number that’s only increasing, it’s easy to understand how Hip-Hop/R&B has become so popular amongst a shrinking middle class. A little over eleven percent [11%] of America’s population sits below the federal poverty line, and as that number grows, the artistic expression — No, the reality of Hip-Hop culture becomes ever the more so real to the lives of many across America.
When Hip-Hop is juxtaposed with [and in] the forefront of White America, specifically middle-class, the ‘struggle’ adjacent trauma of White America aligns with that of the Hip-Hop/R&B artist(s) they might listen to. While the collar worker is not trapping out of a Fortune 500 company, they still struggle, even if in a different, far-removed way from that of Chief Keef and Pop Smoke. It is here that we understand that Hip-Hop is entertainment to some; while also being a mirror that reflects the realities of others. While sometimes these realities are emphasized and extrapolated for entertainment, that does not make them any less real. These struggles that are reiterated in Hip-Hop often appeal to the struggling culture of Americans that live in a capitalistic society but still live paycheck to paycheck; a statistic that fits a baffling two-thirds of the American population, or roughly 153 million.
However, if most of us are struggling — why do critics such as Geraldo Rivera and Bill O’Reilly condemn Hip-Hop and its culture with such animosity that it may be perceived as anti-blackness?
Circling back to Rivera’s early statements regarding the Pultizer-Prize-winning artist Kendrick Lamar’s work begs the question; If Hip-Hop is damaging, can Hip-Hop also be healing?
Kendrick Lamar’s latest album, “Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers,” tackles this question. With every bar comes a realization, a self-reflective plea for help. Kendrick addresses the lifestyle and period he grew up in and how he has grown to heal from it. In a culture where masculinity is prime, an artist like Kendrick Lamar being vulnerable about his mental health and his need to see a therapist is an eye-opening move that leans to shift the trajectory of hip-hop. However, Kendrick isn’t alone in this. Many artists have released self-reflective albums that openly discuss trauma and healing from it—though, they’re not all as transparent and accessible as “Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers”.
Throughout the album “Donda” by Kanye West, the artist references the trauma of losing his mother and how his growth from it has made him want to be a better father to his children. In-fact, most of Ye’s earlier work up until Yeezus had dealt with different levels of self-reflection, and included critiques of materialism, capitalism, fame, and its impacts on the black community.
The late Mac Miller’s final projects, “Swimming” and “Circles” are melancholic pieces that examine the highs and lows of Mac Miller’s life and reflective thoughts. Works by Lupe Fiasco such as “Tetsuo & Youth” and “3.15.20” by Childish Gambino are both reflective albums and self-accepting in their regards.
Lastly, Igor by Tyler, the Creator is an album worth focusing on. If one recalls, Tyler, the Creator, is the artist mentioned earlier for his vitriol lyricism in his projects, “Bastard” and “Goblin”. He has since released his fifth studio album, Igor.
The lore of Igor tells the story of Tyler struggling to handle love — and the trauma that comes with being left in a relationship. Throughout the album, he explores several stages of life, going from the stages of puppy love to the inevitable death of the relationship as Tyler comes to terms with the fact that his lover is now his ex-lover. Being an ex, Tyler sits with his feelings, doing his best to maintain a stable friendship with his former lover while still grieving through the state of trauma that the break-up has left him in. This album shows a significant growth in maturity from Tyler, who has had most of his projects since Goblin. While sonically pleasing, do Igor and the various albums mentioned above provide listeners with a form of therapeutic emotional release?
“Over the past decade, music therapy has emerged as a creative art form used to address stress and cope with trauma survivors. In a case study of 8–11-year-old children who had survived a tornado in the Southeastern United States, for example, music was used to assist the children in expressing feelings and to help them transition back to school (Garrido). The children created a musical composition based on their feelings about the tornado, enabling them to acknowledge and process their emotions in a healthy and healing way. While the effectiveness of music therapy and other arts programs have been clearly demonstrated in the literature, and individual therapists are themselves highly aware of the way in which the programs affect participants as individuals, clear experimental evidence that demonstrates the mechanisms at work and the influence of differences in personality and coping style, is currently lacking. There is little understanding of which elements of these programs are crucial to their effectiveness. Do creative activities such as songwriting, for example, confer benefits superior to comparatively passive activities such as reading? Do group activities confer greater benefits than solitary activities? Are the lyrics of the music involved more important than the acoustic features? Or is the effect of music a synergy between these elements? Do the benefits of musical activities, in fact, outweigh those of other art therapies? Or, do the benefits of various types of engagement with the arts differ depending on various factors in relation to the individual involved?”
The answers to these questions are crucial, given the increasing numbers of arts programs that are emerging in the wake of traumatic events around the world (Garrido). Questions left unanswered by the article amend themselves through anecdotal social media posts. Fans often articulate their love for an artist and their musical compositions through TikTok, Twitter, and other social media platforms. The connection between artists, their music, and shared trauma is inevitable. With these statements made, we find ourselves questioning the narrative at large. Reports from both sides state opposite, opposing factors; Hip-Hop is damaging, and Hip-Hop can forge a bond between listener and artist; one that can lead to one working through their traumas.
There is no ‘right’ answer. The evidence just isn’t substantial enough to support either argument having a greater advantage. One thing is true however; the perception of violent lyricism through the veil of a black man is going to be accepted as more violent than that of a white male repeating the same lyrics, leading to harsher criticisms of hip-hop and its surrounding culture.
Earlier in this paper, the song “A Boy Named Sue” by Johnny Cash was referenced. Craig Anderson used it as one of the songs in his research for determining the effects of violent lyricism upon the listener, and whether the level of aggression within the listener would increase because of these lyrics.
More recently, the “A Boy Named Sue” by Johnny Cash was utilized in a case with the rapper NBA Young Boy. Defense lawyers cited Cash’s ballad, “A Boy Named Sue,” which is about a father who abandons his son but gives the lad a girl’s name to toughen him up. The ballad ends with Sue, as an adult, rediscovering his father in “an old saloon on a street of mud” in Gatlinburg and fighting him. (Advocate)
“Lawyers for YoungBoy, recognizing America’s anti-blackness, and stigmatization of black culture, successfully argued that a jury might hold the rapper in a negative light because people react more negatively to violent lyrics if they believe they are from rap songs rather than from other music genres, like country. They cited a 2017 dissertation by Adam Dunham at the University of California-Irvine that included a look at Johnny Cash’s 1969 hit.”
“Well, I hit him hard right between the eyes, And he went down, but to my surprise, He come up with a knife and cut off a piece of my ear,” Cash wrote. “But I busted a chair right across his teeth, And we crashed through the wall and into the street, Kicking and a’ gouging in the mud and the blood and the beer.”
Study participants not familiar with the song previously perceived it more negatively when told it was from the rap genre. Those told it was a country song were less offended (Advocate).
The problem lies in the fact that Hip-Hop/R&B is often consumed and presented in such a way that it allows the narrative of America to legitimatize and maintain perspectives that align themselves with anti-blackness. This shows itself through the criminal justice system, where courts are attempting to quantize a rapper’s life by using their lyrics as fact during trials. This was present in the NBA YoungBoy trial, as well as countless others. While many rappers do utilize rap was a way to brag and take historical account of their gang-related activity, many rappers hold themselves as storytellers that speak on the life around them. For example, in the song “Gang Related”, Logic raps from his brother’s perspective, detailing the life that raised both men. This is a song that criticizes the system, while taking note of the gang activities that surround Maryland, where Logic and his family grew up. Even more directly, Nas takes on the persona of a physical gun in the song “I Gave You Power”, thus further dismissing the idea that rap lyrics should be presented as evidence in court.
The line between the culture of hip-hop and the perception of black culture in America is very thin. In many scenarios, taking the stance of being anti-rap, or “anti-hip hop” can almost be equated to being anti-black. While the two are closely related, they are not equivalent. Hip hop is black culture—but black culture cannot be watered down to being exclusively hip hop and associated genres. Furthermore, the expansion of White-American culture into Hip-Hop further dilutes the messaging. That said, one can be critical of hip hop (and truthfully—not a fan of it) while also being accepting of the facets of culture that hip hop derives itself from (or vice versa).
Earlier I begged the question as to whether Hip-Hop was the cause of racism itself, through its vulgar motifs and glorification of unsavory topics. In short, the answer to this question is no, it does not. While yes it can aid in building the problem, it itself isn’t the source. This brings forth one train of thought: America doesn’t have an anti-hip-hop problem, America has an anti-black problem.
Those that are the most critical of hip-hop/R&B use the music as a gateway to criticize black culture as a whole without being labeled as racist or prejudice. Unfortunately, this stigma further diminishes and separates black communities into different identities [and spaces] that develop their own gatekeeping standards that are reflective of the cultural colourism that was established during early America’s slave-ridden colonial period. This trend is dangerous, as we [black people] become inclusive to only a particular ‘type’ or ‘level’ of blackness that fits our own narrative of what black culture—that of which has been beaten, molded, and formed by constant reaffirmation of anti-black practices through the guise of hip-hop criticisms.
Dunbar articulates my feelings in these final paragraphs:
“The belief that rap music is strongly associated with crime also influences approaches towards crime control. For example, Dabney, Teasdale, Ishoy, Gann, and Berry explored how appearance characteristics associated with rap music (e.g., braids, wearing sagging pants, and having artificial gold teeth) inform police arrest decisions. After analyzing 934 police–citizen interactions, Dabney and his colleagues found that citizens displaying appearance characteristics associated with rap music were three times more likely to be arrested than not be arrested, even when controlling for relevant legal factors (e.g., suspect demeanor, priors, and seriousness of the offense). In a similar vein, research has revealed that negative attitudes about rap music predict increased support for punitive criminal justice policies more broadly and result in less empathetic judgments towards Black victims.”
“One thing to note from this study, is the influence that black culture has on Hip-hop culture. Hip-Hop is pulled from black-culture, not vice-versa, therefore by targeting black men that have braids — a hairstyle as common as the pompadour, you’re targeting them for a part of their culture, as opposed to targeting them for their association to Hip-Hop stereotypes. Through this, Hip-Hop and its surrounding culture acts as a proxy of sorts, for anti-blackness. By disliking Hip-Hop, individuals are allowed to critisize black people without being seen as prejudice, since their focus is upon Hip-Hop, and not black people themselves. Bonilla-Silva explains that “racism in the United Stated is now characterized by subtle, institutionalized, and seemingly non-racial practices and mechanisms to reproduce racial inequality” Relatedly, Bobo describes contemporary attitudes about race as laissez-faire racism or a more covert, culture-centered racist ideology. Both of these arguments, which have been echoed by numerous other scholars, highlight how opposition to cultural affectations and traditions is used to maintain a racial hierarchy.”
Addendum (5.11.2024)
Discussions surrounding hip-hop and its permeating cultures will always border broader conversations about black culture. Because of this, it is essential that we do our best to differentiate criticisms into subset categories1:
Criticisms rooted in racial prejudice.
Criticisms focused on the artistic and thematic & artistic elements of the culture itself.
Critiques of hip-hop can be based on various factors unrelated to implicit racial bias. These may include critiques of lyrical content, musical style, or the perceived impact of the music on society2, which do not inherently draw on or contribute to racial stereotypes. It is essential, therefore, to recognize that not all criticism of hip-hop is a veiled attack on black culture; some may reflect personal taste or a critical assessment of artistic elements.
Greater problems arise when critiques on hip hop (or black culture) come from outsiders looking in. In these instances, the critiques may use hip hop as a vehicle for exploring racial prejudice. In academia, the term is referred to as ‘cultural racism’—a form of racism that allows individuals to target cultural expressions of a racial group while ostensibly maintaining a stance against the group itself.
Because of this, we need to engage and consume arguments critically and thoughtfully. As Aristotle once said (paraphrased):
We need to seek clarity where appropriate, given each subject. For example, expecting a mathematician to be as persuasive, or communicative as a public speaker or politician—or expecting the public speaker to provide definitive proofs like that of a mathematician, is unreasonable. We are most adept at understanding and critiquing fields we are familiar with. To effectively critique a specific subject, one needs a deep education in that area; to critique a broad range of topics, one needs a comprehensive education.
The internet gifted us a level of unparalleled hyper connectivity. With this gift, we created a confluence of expertise and an internet search, where the search result is the illusion of an education.
Debating in the digital age means to explore the context of the critique, followed by the examination of the language that is being used. What is the goal—and what social narratives are being supported, or challenged based on a combination of these things?
In doing this work, we can [better] discern when a critique reflects personal taste, or if it’s symptomatic of deeper racial prejudices. Unfortunately, that means a bulk of the work is often provided by the oppressed. We find that we have to be the educators, the fact-checkers, and the editors of not only our message—but the message of the oppressors. We must not only be the gatekeepers of our own culture, but the curators of the ‘message’, gift-wrapping it and molding it so that it can be received ‘well’ by audiences everywhere, hoping we may gather more allies.
——
I would be lying if I said that the impetus behind the addendum wasn’t reflective of the Palestinian—Israeli conflict. It’s with this, that we as a society—as humans, need to be open-minded to the context in which we use words, guiding ourselves to true articulation of thought.
Just as criticism of Israeli policies does not inherently equate to anti-Semitism, so too can criticism of hip-hop exist independently of anti-black racism. Both areas require a careful and informed analysis to avoid oversimplification and misrepresentation of the issues at hand.
There will be substantial overlap where the criticisms of art reflect criticisms of the culture since the two derive from the same source.
This is in reference to the original article where we explored the impact of music and its impact on human behavior based off of thematic elements, inside and outside of racial biases.
I was just thinking about this topic and you brought up some points I didn’t think about. Very good piece ! 🫡