It’s drizzly out. And freezing cold. It’s the kind of cold that doesn’t hit you with a blast as soon as you step outside, but that you feel deep down inside after a few minutes sitting in the car, waiting for it to warm up. Fortunately even on the #2 fan speed the Audi’s interior heats up almost instantly once the engine’s up to temp.<\/p>\n
* * * * * *<\/p>\n
I watched a mini-documentary piece on VH1 while eating dinner. It was on the evolution of rap and hip-hop, and specifically focused on gangsta rap and its heyday in the early\/mid ’90s. I watched about an hour of it.<\/p>\n
That kind of thing is very interesting to me. Growing up homeschooled in a white, Christian, suburban home, I had absolutely no point of contact with anything in that scene or any of the emotions that fueled that subculture (at least not their flavor of it). When gangsta rap was topping the charts I was listening to Michael W. Smith and Steven Curtis Chapman, not terribly bad music in its own particular idiom, but there was so much more out there that I would have sought out if I had only had the means. It wasn’t for lack of curiosity–I’d always been fairly musically progressive and investigative (I introduced my family and friends to a lot of the music they now listen to regularly, just through searching it out and keeping my ears open for something good–which I still do, and I know most of you do), but if I had brought home a copy of The Chronic<\/i> my parents would have been beside themselves.<\/p>\n
But more than that, at that point in my life I just didn’t really want<\/i> to listen to it. I think we choose music that we can relate to, and I couldn’t relate to any of the experiences they described in gangsta rap, not even the feelings–angst, aggression, thug life, etc…and the boasting that made up much of the music just sounded silly to me–humility was something I thought was pretty instinctive for most folks. There were elements I did<\/i> like–I was attracted to the rhythms of it (I’ve always liked complex rhythms in my music after growing up in a synthetic, rhythm-dominated musical culture, i.e. Europe), but that wasn’t enough to overcome my hesitations at the time.<\/p>\n
It’s still so foreign to me, but it’s mesmerizing for that very reason. I love finding the artistry and the technique and the skill in something I previously thought was completely commercial and without any artistic merit. To read about groups like Public Enemy or Dre or the Fugees or late-’90s OutKast pushing the envelope in their own particular sphere of the music world is fascinating. I’ve always been attracted to creativity, in whatever form it takes. Even as far back as ’95 and ’96 I’d stay up late most Saturday nights and watch Showtime at the Apollo after SNL… Amateur Night was ten times more cringe-inducing to watch than any episode of American Idol, and the energy of the live acts kept my eyes glued to the screen. I used to discuss the show the following week with some of the younger black cashiers at the supermarket where I worked as a bagger, and they were blown away that probably the whitest kid they knew would watch the Apollo. Not that it gave me any “cred” or anything, but it was a conversation piece. I was and always will be an outsider looking in, but I’m okay with that. Nothin’ but love, y’all :)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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