Archive for the ‘Word’ Category

 

southerplayalistic

 

20 years is a mighty long time to share yourself with someone.  I know.  I’ve been close with my best friend since kindergarten, over 20 years.  She’s seen me at my most pathetic and she’s witnessed my most rewarding moments.  Hell, we’re past friends.  We’re family.  That’s the connection I feel with y’all.  To call myself a fan would diminish the kinship I feel when I ingest your rhymes.  To liken my two decades long support to some groupie shit would deprave the sincere admiration I hold for y’all.  I consider myself kin.  Like a distant cousin.  I know y’all, but I still don’t know y’all.  But what I do know is that despite the proximity of our kinship, the pride I have for ‘Kast is unfaltering.  I give thanks for y’all every time I slide Aquemini in my CD player and turn the volume up on Liberation, the first song to bring me to an emotional revelation.  I give thanks every time I hear Player’s Ball during the Christmas season and recollect on my introduction to southernplayalisticadillacmuzik.  I give thanks for two dope boys in a Cadillac when I press play on ATLiens and smile as my son chills in the backseat hollering “Hootie hoooo!”

Outkast is one of the reasons I grew up to be me.  I grew up to have an authentic, unapologetic sense of self because y’all showed me that is was cool to be southern, creative, original and funky.  Not to be ashamed of my slight country twang and laidback pronunciation of thangs.  Opening Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik and first, feeling complete shock that my young eyes were taking in a naked, brown body with fierce afro puffs on the CD, then experiencing a sense of pride because I understood that her body was being celebrated, worshipped.  Do you understand how dichotomous it is to be a Black woman who loves Southern hip hop?  I’m talmbout, bouncing my ass to bass music but giving the screwface to the misogynistic lyrics?  It’s tiring.  Now, I won’t pretend that y’all have never spit a questionable line, but I can say that you’ve never shamed my womanhood.  The Pimp and the Poet.  The two of you spoke to the many facets of my growth as a woman.   From Jazzy Belle to SpottieOttieDopaliscious to Slum Beautiful, I appreciated the stories you told of the women you knew.  They were multidimensional: dynamic, sexy, bold, struggling and sweeter than a plate of yams with extra syrup.  Those women were women that I could identify with as I matured.  Thank you for that.

Thank you for giving the world dope, intelligent Southern folk.  Thank you for being unfuckwittable.  Stank you.

Bizarre-Tribe-Access-Denied-300x300

“Industry rule #4080: record company people are shady.”  Q-Tip hipped folks to this many moons ago and we’re still witnessing the greed and misappropriation of our (hip hop) culture from huge record labels.  I’m a fan of Gummy Soul and Amerigo Gazaway.  They’ve proven themselves as innovators and risk takers.  They recently released Gazaway’s mash-up Bizarre Tribe, a conceptual meeting of A Tribe Called Quest and The Pharcyde hits.  An incredibly familiar but original idea, Bizarre Tribe is a classic hip hop head’s wet dream.  Apparently, Sony has caught wind and wants some of the pie.  Sony sent a cease and desist letter to the producers to stop distributing the free project.  WTF??  Read Gummy Soul’s informative, hell-yeah worthy retort below. (more…)

Lately, the ugly monster haunting hip-hop is its virtual underrepresentation of women behind mics.  Now, if you’re only tuned into your local radio station, yes, you’ll be hard-pressed to hear a female holding shit down outside of Nicki Minaj.  But if you’ve kept your ear to the ground, you should know the name Rapsody pretty well.  Being hailed as one of the best femcees, North Carolina’s own Rapsody has finally dropped her debut EP The Idea Of Beautiful.  Produced largely by her mentor 9th Wonder and the Soul Council (Khrysis, Ka$h, E. Jones, eric g, and Amp), Rapsody incorporates clever wordplay, intricate storytelling, and personal revelations into the Jamla Army sound.

Rapsody clearly has a deep, personal relationship with hip hop, as evidenced by the many subtle and overt odes to the art form.  It’s not uncommon for rappers to personify hip hop, showing love to h.e.r. through dedications and celebratory lyrics.  In “Precious Wings,” Rap comes to hip hop as a sanctuary, an escape from life’s confusions and pain.  “Everyday is pressure, each one feeling like 22/catches, that’s some give and take/and all of if learning, tryna educate myself as I go through it like Lauryn,” she laments.

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I’ve been very intrigued by Mos Def’s name change to his Muslim and legal name Yasiin Bey.  Mostly, my intrigue comes from what impetus encouraged Bey to drop the pseudonym and share his chosen name with the world.  In this article from Scott Korb, the journalist delves quite deep into Yasiin Bey’s history of hip hop and Islam.  I’m not sure if there are those that believe that the MC is some fly-by-night Muslim, but that’s quite the contrary.  According to Korb, Bey is one of the most recognizable Muslims in pop culture since boxing great Muhammad Ali.  For anyone that has followed Ali’s career and conversion to Islam, it’s a very telling comparison.  Ali was a staunch Muslim, displaying this in instances such as his refusal to join the Armed Forces.  The artist formerly known as Mos Def has taken such sociopolitical stands through his music, integrating his beliefs with his passion.  Although lengthy, the article is a great read and shines some light on the struggle between one’s perceived self and one’s true self.

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