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Hip-hop represents a realignment of America's cultural aesthetics. Rap songs deliver the message, again and again, to keep it real. The poet Rainer Maria Rilke wrote that "a work of art is good if it has sprung from necessity." Rap is the music of necessity, of finding poetry in the colloquial, beauty in anger, and lyricism even in violence. Hip-hop, much as the blues and jazz did in past eras, has compelled young people of all races to search for excitement, artistic fulfillment and even a sense of identity by exploring the black underclass. "And I know because of [rapper] KRS-1," the white ska-rap singer Bradley Nowell of Sublime once sang in tribute to rap. Hip-hop has forced advertisers, filmmakers and writers to adopt "street" signifiers like cornrows and terms like player hater. Invisibility has been a long-standing metaphor for the status of blacks in America. "Don't see us/ but we see you," hip-hop band the Roots raps on a new song. Hip-hop has given invisibility a voice.
But what does that voice have to say?
Now tell me your philosophy On exactly what an artist should be. --Lauryn Hill, Superstar
It's a Friday night, early December 1998, and you're backstage at Saturday Night Live. You're hanging out in the dressing room with Lauryn Hill, who is sitting on the couch, flipping through a script. The 23-year-old rapper-singer-actress is the musical guest on this week's show. It's her coming-out party, the first live TV performance she's done since releasing her critically acclaimed and best-selling album The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill. She might also do a little acting on the show--SNL staff members have asked her to appear in a skit. But as Hill reads, her small rose-blossom lips wilt into a frown. She hands you the script. It's titled Pimp Chat--it's a sketch about a street hustler with a talk show. Hill's role: a 'ho. Or, if she's uncomfortable with that, she can play a female pimp. Hmmm. Now, being in an SNL sketch is a big opportunity--but this one might chip away at her image as a socially conscious artist. What's it going to be?
It's all about the Benjamins, baby. --Sean ("Puffy") Combs It's All About the Benjamins
You are in a recording studio in midtown Manhattan, hanging out with hip-hop superproducer Sean ("Puffy") Combs. It's 1997, and Puffy is keeping a low profile, working on his new album, his first as a solo performer. This album will be his coming-out party. He's eager to play a few tracks for you. People have him all wrong, he says. He majored in business management at Howard. He's not just about gangsta rap.Sounds from his new album fill the room. One song is based on a bit from the score to Rocky. Another, a sweeping, elegiac number, uses a portion of Do You Know Where You're Going To? That's what he's about, Combs says. Classic pop. "I'm living my life right," he says. "So when it comes time for me to be judged, I can be judged by God."
You're mad because my style you're admiring Don't be mad--UPS is hiring. --The Notorious B.I.G. Flava in Your Ear (Remix)