Tag Archives: Hip hop

Subculture: a group of people with a culture (whether distinct or hidden) which differentiates them from the larger culture to which they belong.

Hip-hop has always been an art form enriched with various subcultures – gangster rap, comedy rap, conscious rap, etc. At one time the movement in its entirety was a subculture, born in the Bronx and away from wider society. Today, UK independent hip-hop is a subculture of the wider genre and regional hip-hop is a subculture of the independent scene, with artists being generally confined within the boundaries of their own demographic.

Keeping in line with the definition, to my mind and (untrained) ear, hip-hop, more than any other musical genre, embraces regional subculture; local accents are broad and easily recognisable and rappers are keen to base rhymes on their own stories and those related to their specific area. Many people will argue that other music is heavily influenced by regions also. This may be true, but it is not as easy (for me anyway) to differentiate clearly between a band from London and a band from Leeds as it is to tell apart a rapper from Birmingham and one from Liverpool. But is this a good thing?

My home region, the north east of England, is the perfect example of a regional subculture in hip-hop; an area of the UK where rappers rhyme predominantly in their own distinctive Geordie, Mackem and ‘boro accents. Now, in my humble (and biased) opinion, the north east has one of the best hip-hop “scenes” in the UK right now. The artists, if not as vast in terms of numbers as they once were, are certainly more talented than ever. If you’re in any doubt as to the quality of the music being made in the region, check out acts such as Leddie & Smoggy, Jister, Suus, Dialect and the rest of the Keep the Faith family. The north east hip-hop scene is a tight community and artists are keen to support and promote the music of their peers, the problem is, this music does not often reach listeners outside of the area. Why is this?

Musical subcultures are generally regarded as being resistant to the commercial aspects of the genre to which they belong. I feel this is only true to a certain degree. Granted, “going mainstream” as an artist is so vigorously associated with “selling out” that a lot of independent artists are keen to avoid it for fear of having their voice stifled. And it is true that rappers that achieve commercial success are required to change their style and lyrical content to suit record labels; however, you cannot tell me that no underground artist wants to achieve some level of commercial success in their genre? The underground scene is generally all about the music, but no one could ever begrudge anyone making a living from their music – something they love. And it doesn’t have to be done by “selling out” either; artists such as Lowkey and Akala are perfect examples of this. To generate an income from their art, artists must first have their music heard.

This may be me once again saying something biased, but the reason the music in the north east isn’t being recognised on a wider scale can have nothing to do with the quality of lyricism, beats or production, and I’m sure that is the case in other regions too. Is it the regional accent? I don’t think so. I can definitely see how some people from outside the area may be put off somewhat by north east dialect, but give me a regional accent over a put-on American one any day. This problem of hip-hop music not being heard outside of its local scene seems to be one that exists in every area north of London – I feel this is the fault not of the artists, but the fans. The vast majority of hip-hop fans (myself included) have been brought up on a diet of US rap and are unwilling to look at what is happening in their own area, let alone a region outside of their own. Why is it that we fans are willing to invest all of our time and money in hip-hop from across the Atlantic but will not entertain the music of an artist based just a couple of hours up the road? This needs to change – but how?

Well, far from being an oracle, my suggestion would be that first and foremost artists’ need exposure. This exposure needs to come from the fans. Some will argue the point that artists should be doing more to market themselves – I’m not sure what more they can realistically do with what they have available to them. A lot of independent hip-hop relies on the use un-cleared samples which makes it hard to achieve radio airplay, so maybe something can change in that area, but other than that, the responsibility is with the fans to support the local scene, buy the records and promote anything that you love. Not only this, more people need to embrace hip-hop from other regions; this is easier than ever with Facebook, Twitter and YouTube and costs absolutely nothing. Read blogs such as this one and visit independent hip-hop websites to discover new artists. Remember that feeling you got when you first discovered Nas or Wu-Tang? That same feeling still exists when you discover some exciting underground UK talent. Without abandoning their local dialect, fans and artists need to work to create a UK wide scene. Local promoters should do more to put on artists from other areas and in-turn artists should be willing to perform further afield. Get local artists known on a wider scale.

Hip-hop is as much about the fans as it is the artists, and working together to extend the parameters of regional subcultures can only be good for the future of the music.

@gjhancock01

Hip-Hop and Geography (tomclementsuk.com)
How Record Labels are Stifling Creativity More than Ever (tomclementsuk.com)

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Support the Underground

May 19, 2012

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By David “The Mast” Masters

“They only say hip hop is dead ‘cause the dope shit is underground.”
- Joe Budden, D.O.A. Freeverse.

Music has been with me my whole life. I don’t believe illegal downloading is okay and every piece of music I own is bought/paid for. My CD collection has everything from thrash metal like Slayer to Prince. From mellow and jazzy folk artists like Norah Jones, to Norweigan black metal pioneers such as Emperor. If you’re into more electronic sounds, I have everything from Depeche Mode to Burial, from Brian Eno to Kraftwerk. If I like it, I’ll buy it. Good music is good music, to me. Today, I’m here to discuss hip-hop.

My first dalliance with the genre of hip-hop was ‘Prophets of Rage’ by Public Enemy. I was too young to appreciate bars, but something about the aural flow and linguistic punch of Chuck D. managed to hit my inner ear. It felt like swearing in French. If you don’t know what I mean, watch The Matrix Revolutions (it’s shit, but for reference). After rattling off a barrage of foul language spoken in French, The Merovingian so eloquently states that swearing in said language is “like wiping (your) ass with silk. I love it.”

It was kind of like that. Hearing, “With vice, I hold the mic device. With force, I give it away, of course.” immediately struck me. As I grew older, I gained more and more of my hip-hop sensibilities, morality and code of ethics from that one line. “With vice, I hold the mic device.” Chuck was saying that he grabs the mic, his tool of artistry, with authority and an air of confidence. “With force, I give it away, of course.” Here, he is suggesting (from what I interpret), that if he’s gonna give the mic to you, be prepared to rule it or don’t bother. My point is that I like my MCs to rap well. I don’t particularly care if you have mediocre lyrics so long as the music is pleasing to me. Lyrics, in all music, are nothing more than a good bonus at best. I buy music for the sound. MCing, though, is an art within the music. It is a skill. One does not need to be able to perform linguistic somersaults, à la Canibus, to be a great hip-hop musician. In fact, the best albums are often ones with a heavy balance.

To elucidate: 2pac was never a top seed if we’re discussing lyrics. Ed Lover said that, word for word, when talking to Joe Budden. “I live the era, I knew Pac personally. He is not a top seed if we’re talking about lyrics, which is what BEST RAPPER should mean.” Yet, I would much rather listen to ‘California Love’ than a lot of what Canibus has produced. To judge hip-hop artists is not to judge them as MCs and vice versa.

Where am I going with this? Well, I want to talk about underground hip-hop vs. mainstream hip-hop. To get right into it, and continue from the previous thread, lyrics are typically a huge point of division between the mainstream and the underground. Though the mainstream has always been in the vein of more popular material, thus the more accessible, it did allow for incredibly talented lyricists to ply their craft as hip-hop artists. Nowadays, I do not believe that is so. I’d like to weigh up the changes, why things have changed, and whether I think they are changes for the betterment or decline of hip-hop.

Rewind to the 90s. Everyone will tell you that everything was so much better. Granted, the 90s probably do rack up as the greatest musical years of all time. Not due to nostalgia, but due to the sheer amount of stylistic movements across all genres. You had the grunge movement out of Seattle, the alternative rock movement out of L.A. and the West Coast, and you had the whole new wave of hip-hop artists. This, I believe, is where the current mainstream differs. Allow me to explain…

When Redman, Method Man, Wu-Tang Clan and their ilk came forth, people DID shun them. They dressed differently, they rapped about different things, and they were generally looked upon with the same view many people use today! “Ack! These new guys have no respect!” However, analysing the classic 90s hip-hop albums reveals to us the difference between now and then. Muddy Waters, those first two Wu albums and the affiliated solo efforts, ‘Ready to Die’, ‘The 18^th Letter’, ‘Uptown Saturday Night’, ‘Lifestyles ov the Poor and Dangerous’ etc. These albums, if not made by vets, had clear musical links to what came before. Even if they sounded entirely new, they either had musical or influential links to what had proven to be pioneering, quality hip-hop.

Who can analyse a Young Money (you knew it was coming, shut up) track and say that? We’ve gone from musical evolution, to musical creationism. People are looking at all rappers as hip-hop artists, and that isn’t the case. I refuse to label Drake as a hip-hop artist. That isn’t me being afraid of new things, it’s him not being hip-hop. He raps. That’s it. He is no more a hip-hop artist for rapping as Adele is a punk rock vocalist because she too is a singer.

The continuity of history is gone, I feel. Let me clarify, though, that I do not feel everyone HAS to listen to, or like, Rakim or any of those older guys. I just think people should know where things came from, and what music was like at different points in time. Today, the mainstream of hip-hop is all about collaborating with whoever will help you get that money, and if you disagree…you’re a hater. It’s focused on “swag”, a word of which the usage should be punishable with death, and things of that nature. Things HAVE shifted, and I don’t necessarily believe it’s for the better. Taste is subjective, but I find it hard to believe that anyone can watch the last episode of Yo! MTV Raps and not feel depressed. I watched it when it aired, and it saddened me then. Seeing Rakim, K.R.S., Serch, Extra P., Special Ed, Red, Meth, Chubb Rock and many others getting it in to the instrumental Pete Rock remix of Real Hip-Hop by Das Efx is something I will never, ever forget.

They all looked like bums, but did it matter? No. What mattered was their ability. When you ask Drake to recite a verse, or drop a freestyle, he can barely manage three of four bars without pausing for a while. MCs these days have not developed to appreciate the craft of MCing in and of itself, for the most part. The closest thing we have is the B.E.T. Cypher, and that’s nowhere near the same.

“They’re doing alright! They’re getting all that money!”, I hear you say. True. That is a benefit of being a mainstream hip-hop musician. But at what cost? I am no Drake fan, but even evaluating his earlier work shows a magnificent difference between the Drake who did ‘Good Riddance’ and the Drake who does thinks like ‘Over’ or ‘Fall for Your Type’. Compromise is key, more so than ever. A mainstream hip-hop artist is not going to get away with putting a single out with no chorus or hook on it, for example. You would never see a posse cut, A TRUE posse cut, make the grade now. The ‘Flava in Ya Ear’ remix (if you haven’t heard it, then yes, I judge you) would never get the notoriety today that it did when it came out.

Joe Budden most famously put out ‘Pump It Up’ on Def Jam, as well as Focus (which, I believe, he did for DJ Clue and it blew up unexpectedly). They smashed into clubs and everyone bumped it. Then the album dropped and people were horrified to hear self-referential, reflective tracks such as ‘Walk with Me’; a masterfully executed meditation on how fame and fortune can change you and/or everyone around you. They didn’t want that, and so Joe was eventually forced off Def Jam and retreated into the underground. The money wasn’t as good, the exposure was non-existent, but he had 100% control over EVERYTHING he did. The result? Go listen to any of his four Mood Muzik mixtapes. The third installment, specifically, is absolute brilliance. He has lamented his time in the mainstream, even going so far as to say, “I pick anonymity over being famous.” “I’m not worried ‘bout the limelight, ‘cause that’ll manifest when the time’s right.”

Now, we see Joe and his four-headed monster group, Slaughterhouse, signed to Shady Records. When I heard ‘Loud Noises’, I internally screamed like Homer Simpson in Candyland at the prospect of no-chorus barfests coming back into the mainstream. Then I heard ‘My Life’ most recently and began to fear for the group that I truly believed would be saviours. That’s what happens, though. When sales security isn’t a guaranteed shout, do you push on or take the easy way out? Many mainstream MCs have done this, and it’s a regular pitfall. If you listen to Ludacris (yes, the guy who did ‘Baby’ with Justin Bieber) on ‘Incognegro’ or ‘Back for the First Time’, you will be blown away. He was the Southern Redman, at one point. His second album, ‘Word of Mouf’, showed some mainstream sensibilities (who DOESN’T love ‘Area Codes’ and ‘Rollout’?), but it had that Luda-essence. Then, things went wrong.

Most famously, though most often disagreed with, I have to shine the light on Eminem. ‘The Slim Shady L.P.’, to me, is arguably the greatest complete work in hip-hop history. It has great music, side-splitting comedic lyricism/ad-libs and some genuine, thought-provoking material. Lyrically, he not only smashed the ball out of the park on a technical level (‘I Still Don’t’, ‘Just Don’t Give a Fuck’ and ‘Brain Damage’), but he told amazing stories with his words (‘Rock Bottom’ and ‘If I Had’. Fast forward to the time when he realised he could get a lot more money and fame if he did give a fuck, and he’s doing Stan (one of the most overrated “deep” tracks ever. Do not EVER call that song deep, to me, ‘Without Me’, ‘Ass like That’ and the deplorable bandwagonry of ‘Mosh. People call it stylistic evolution, I call it selling the fuck out, to be marginally less eloquent.

There just seems to be a great amount of rappers, but no hip-hop. That is the issue, nowadays. I refuse to believe it’s nostalgia, because it isn’t. I have an analytical, justifiable beef with the way things have gone, and I refuse to support or affiliate myself with the hip-hop mainstream until it sorts itself out. MCs aren’t willing to grind hard in favour of owning everything they do, and doing everything they want. Granted, Drake may want to do what he’s doing now, but I have such unwavering suspicion when I see such a massive stylistic leap in someone’s back catalogue. How can ANYONE see Snoop Dogg doing tracks with Katy Perry and not give a big, loud, Nate Dogg-style “HOLD UP”? There was a time when Triumph by Wu-Tang Clan was a worthy, chartable single. Now, the closest thing we have to a posse cut is ‘Forever’ or ‘Bed Rock’. That’s not ok, and I’m not ok with it.

Make NO mistake, for I am not anti-mainstream. I am anti-what’s mainstream now, and I think that’s perfectly understandable. In 2012, where record labels, though powerful, are becoming less and less relevant, I believe artists should start taking back demand. Artists seem to be in a rush to give something to the labels that can be sold, or remixed. Instead, make the labels want YOU and you will retain the power. Labels need artists. Artists do not need labels. Record labels exist because of musicians, and it will NEVER be the other way around. Demand more, push for more, and make THEM change. There’s room for Young Money, J. Cole and all these mainstream guys, but they are out there, like it or not, representing hip-hop because they rap. All while Elzhi is probably never going to see the exposure they have.

I know we’re in a recession, and I know we’re in a steal-before-you-buy (if you even buy) culture, but please…if you claim to be a fan of hip hop…BUY something independent. Go support Flight Distance or 24/7. Rhyme Asylum or Jehst. Iron Solomon or Illmaculate. Soul Khan or Atmosphere. Just take a gamble on something less than famed and you more than likely will wish you’d done it sooner. I don’t wish to use this phrase, but the true essence of hip-hop (yes, such a thing exists) IS dying and it will continue dying until all that’s left is rapping over an R&B instrumental. That is, unless, people start pushing.

Chuck D. held what he loved with vice, and gave it away to these newer generations with force. I feel like he is being let down. Let’s change that, as fans.

@TheMastTweets

Save Yourselves: Abolish “Real Hip-Hop” (tomclementsuk.com)
Hip-Hop Rumors: Drake Doesn’t Want To Be Rapping In His 30′s (allhiphop.com)

Hip-Hop and Geography

May 14, 2012

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By Oliver Arditi

My knowledge of hip-hop is limited to what can be seen from the twisting pathways happenstance and my interests have taken me on over the years. My particular areas of musical interest are not delineated by stylistic boundaries (I basically like everything), but more by an interest in creative autonomy, and in what people get up to between the cracks in mainstream culture: the underground, in other words.

At the moment I’m connected to a number of broad currents in underground music: progressive rock, of a kind that blends into the fringes of modern classical and experimental music; the whole arty beard-stroking free improvisation/ ambient/ field recording thing; avant-garde folk music; extreme noisy metal; hardcore punk; and underground hip-hop. Most of these categories enjoy quite a lot of crossover, but hip-hop is more clearly bounded, and seems more self-sufficient, perhaps because it is simply a part of a broader set of cultural and creative practices. It’s also a category that includes a broader range of artistic intentions, ranging from the out-there and uncompromisingly poetic, to the comedic, to the straightforwardly observational and autobiographical. Some of it is separated from the mainstream only by the question of sales figures, although there certainly seems to be a lingering preference for old school production techniques even in those parts of the underground.

At this point I should re-iterate that my impressions are always partial, and any observation I make about the ‘scene as a whole’ is just the view I get from my limited perspective; but before anyone accuses me of being ill informed, or not a ‘true fan’, I’d like to point out that the same is true of everyone. Although there are many people who know far more about hip-hop than me (the estimable Tom Clements to take an obvious example), I will defend to the grave my right to form my own canon, and to refuse the desire any mainstream (even the mainstream of an underground movement) to dictate to me what I should listen to and what I should discount. In fact, this is what I mean when I say ‘underground’; and although large parts of the hip-hop underground would love nothing more than to achieve mainstream success, those same parts understand clearly that any such success, any kind of viable hip-hop practice whatsoever, relies on just such a commitment to the truth of their own experience.

Authenticity is an important element in perceptions of any art form; although it is a very problematic term, from a theoretical or philosophical perspective, the fact remains that anything that doesn’t strike us as authentic, truthful or at least sincere, will strike us as fake. Authenticity is important in any underground music: free improvisation is valued for its truth to the moment, for its unmediated spontaneity; punk is valued for the intensity and commitment of the performance. But I think that hip-hop is unique in the centrality of the term to its creative endeavours, and in the way it is explicitly bandied about as a token of value. It’s very interesting that this should be the case in a music whose production conventions involve the appropriation and re-purposing of existing recordings, but that’s a theoretical investigation for another day; I’m particularly interested in the way that this relates to geography.

An emcee needs to keep their lyrics ‘real’, on a number of levels; they need to represent their life experience with a directness that is unique to this style of music. Songwriters in other genres are free to act like novelists, and adopt the voice of fictional characters, representing experiences quite distinct from their own. The narrative voice of hip-hop is almost always in the first person (yeah, I know, I instantly thought of a dozen exceptions as soon as I wrote that); hip-hop lyricists obviously do diverge from their own experience, but the conventions of the genre mean that this is always a divergence. Sometimes it is overtly signalled, perhaps with a humorous aside that draws attention to an exaggeration, and sometimes the emcee makes themselves out to be a stone-face gangsta draped with gold and bitches without a hint of irony, but this always leaves them open to being ‘found out’, and to their right to make such claims being questioned.

The baseline assumption then, is that the emcee is discussing what he or she knows, representing lived experience as seen from their own specific perspective, in their own social and economic circumstances, in the specific geographical location they inhabit. There’s a lot of history behind this, and to discuss the way this has informed the music over time, with its variable relationship to the actual experience of its proponents, is beyond the scope of this article; it is worthing noting, however, that Straight Outta Compton, one of the founding documents of this approach to rap, specifically proclaims its geographic allegiance as a token of its authenticity.

Among all the underground musical practices I mentioned at the outset, hip-hop is unique in its concern with place, and the part place plays in the construction of identity. Much underground music tends to elide any geography more specific than a country, perhaps because specialist interests appeal to a geographically distributed audience; but conversely, they often rely on local networks to find venues for live performance, with acts clustered in tiny micro-scenes around small towns. My politics (which I won’t waste too much time on here) lead me to favour the local as much as I favour the underground; the ideology, and the political economy, that has turned the vast majority of us into passive consumers of culture, is specifically anti-localist, in effect if not in stated intention. The mainstream is the antithesis of the local, just as much as it is the antithesis of the underground; its mechanisms of representation and reproduction are predicated on a focus on global products and stars. It is a world in which, by definition, the local has no place: if everyone on the planet buys a band’s records, they can hardly be either local or underground. For me the two things go hand in hand.

Hip-hop’s origins are decidedly underground; it is (or was) an inherently subversive form, which got its cultural materials by turning that which was offered for passive consumption to its own purposes. However, given its subsequent commercial dominance, the fundamentally altered circumstances of its production, and the themes that most people would associate with it, it might look an unlikely candidate for a champion of localism. If there is any truly global form in popular music, a form that is recognisable in music, dress, visual art and even body language, from Vladivostok to Rio de Janeiro, it’s hip-hop. But the interesting thing is that while rock bands all over the world have traditionally sung in English, with recognisable simulacra of American accents, people have always done hip-hop in their own languages, and produced beats by sampling the records with which they are familiar.

The British underground hip-hop that I’ve been joyfully discovering over the past years covers a wide range of creative, aesthetic, thematic and political concerns; but one powerful unifying factor is its passionate commitment to its places of origin. It’s not all the sort of thing I like, but even the most unreflecting spew of macho, misogynist clichés can contain a germ of localist specificity, a pride in the particular combination of bricks and people that is Widnes, or wherever the hell it might be. People are not putting on accents to rap any more; if anything they are emphasising their own dialects; not only do they proudly proclaim their origins, as American rappers have traditionally name-checked their neighbourhoods, but there is often a real sense that it is their job to represent their community to the world. And although one aspect of that focus might be a relatively narrow set of horizons, the other is a rootedness, a strength of identity that is very hard to find in an increasingly deterritorialised world.

www.oliverarditi.com

H.L.I. – Omniglyph (EP Review)

May 8, 2012

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Benny Diction – Hard Graft, Arts & Crafts and Hearty Laughs (Album Review)

April 28, 2012

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Am I Too Posh for Hip-Hop?

April 24, 2012

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The critic likes to wear a Boston Red Sox fitted cap.

I’ve listened to hip-hop for many years now. At the tender age of nine, I remember picking up a beat-up copy of Onyx’s ‘Bacdafucup’ from my local Oxfam shop for £5 and ever since then, I have been completely besotted by the art of putting rhyme to rhythm.

Over the years, I’ve amassed a pretty substantial collection of hip-hop music, not just from the UK and America, but from all corners of the globe. In 2002 on a street corner in Berlin, I met EOW champion Chefket (in my opinion, one of the best all-round emcees on planet earth), while in France I took part in a drunken cypher with Parisian rapper Amalgam. Even in Hong Kong, I procured a rare mixtape from the then obscure Cantonese alt.rap outfit LMF (a group which has since gone double-platinum in South China).

In recent years, I’ve written pretty extensively about the underground UK hip-hop scene for sites such as Certified Banger (the most respected and longest-running UK hip-hop blog in existence), Rhythm Circus (one of the best indie/alternative music sites out there) and this blog (a blog which has garnered a little over 100,000 hits in less than two years).

That said, a few people have insinuated that despite my relentless enthusiasm for the art form, I’m actually nothing more than a curious interloper in the world of hip-hop. In fact in a recent email for example, I was vilified by some internet troll for being “too posh and stuck-up to write about hip-hop” and labelled “a disgrace to the art.” The tone of the email clearly suggested that this person (who I don’t wish to embarrass by naming), was genuinely vexed by someone who is perhaps at times overly wordy, sensitive and even effeminate in the way he writes about hip-hop. In many ways, his words were symptomatic of the trite macho mentality which has long been associated with the genre, and so I was inclined to just ignore them and move on. Still, it got me thinking about whether or not I am too posh for hip-hop, and whether or not there is still this imaginary fault-line which defines who can be part of the culture.

To start with, I would never try to pitch myself firmly into the category of being working class for the sake of fitting in to the hip-hop scene, because I know quite simply, that it would be a lie. In fact, I’m much happier being entirely open about being a nerdy, middle-class white kid from the home counties. I grew up in a leafy suburban town and was encouraged by my parents from an early age to focus my energies into getting a good education. I went on to university and obtained a BA in Modern Languages, and now I’m a professional interpreter. So there you go.

In my opinion, being middle-class is so irrelevant; it is surely the love and appreciation of the art form that transcends everything. However, many apologists seem to still want to crow about their salt-of-the-earth credentials and how this somehow makes them more credible exponents of hip-hop. As far as I’m concerned, I can’t really see why they get so invested in it. I mean in this day and age, aren’t most of us simply past that stage of caring? I mean, the old notion that hip-hop is a voice solely of oppressed, marginalized minority cultures is not only archaic, but also moot. Take a Don’t Flop event for example; do you see a room full of blinged-up, screw-faced gangsta rap caricatures? Of course not. In fact, I’d say Don’t Flop events tend to attract a pretty motley group of individuals from pretty much every imaginable walk-of-life. That to me is the essence of real hip-hop; building bridges, not borders, and positively welcoming a spirit of diversity and innovation. Groups like the Beastie Boys for example, who’ve had such a seminal influence on hip-hop music, are respected first and foremost for their craft and innovation – the fact that they are all upper-middle class Jews from midtown Manhattan is immaterial. And how about if we look at more recent rappers: Is college-educated Kanye West too posh for hip-hop? Is Drake, who grew up in an upper-middle class Jewish family in leafy suburbia, too posh for hip-hop? And is UK hip-hop legend Yungun, who was educated at Eton and King’s Canterbury respectively, too posh for hip-hop? Unless they have a real chip on their shoulder, I doubt a credible fan of hip-hop would say “yes” to any of the above.

Of course, I realise that some of the grittier elements of hip-hop culture are inescapable, and have to be adopted by awkward middle-class interlopers like myself. Much of the original Africanized vernacular for example, is integral to the art form and still helps codify a culture that was spawned by ghetto minorities (namely, African-Americans and Hispanics) in the South Bronx. Also, the widely stigmatized fashion elements (the fitted caps, the hoodies and the neck tattoos), are also part and parcel of an art form which is, and probably always will be, intrinsically anti-establishment. To be truly considered part of the hip-hop culture, I think you do have to conform to some extent, if only marginally – whether it’d be wearing your cap at a jaunty angle, or peppering your sentences with the odd “yo” or “homie”. But to pretend to be working-class is, for me at least, a step too far, as though I were hiding away my inner-self.

Hip-hop has long been, and continues to be a voice of the urban working-classes, but as an art form it has no real parameters or restriction as to who can take part. Anyone is open to contribute, and listeners can choose for themselves what they want to hear. Although many purists would rather it remained an inner-city art from, the fact is, the genre has evolved to accommodate those from stereotypically uncool backgrounds like myself. Like rock or punk, hip-hop is only truly realised in its ability to move a crowd as a collective; not in its ability to define class boundaries.

@TomClementsUK

FUR – “ETHIO”

April 3, 2012

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10 Classic UK Hip Hop Tracks (You May Not Have Heard)

March 2, 2012

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By Pete Cashmore

Here are 10 classic UK hip hop tracks you may not have heard. Actually, you probably have, in which case, I apologise for being rubbish and out of touch, but then I’m 38, what do you expect?

1. BLAK TWANG – Real Estate
I chose this first and wrote it last because it’s so hard to nail what makes it so brilliant, but brilliant it is. It is just the most exact evocation of what breadline life in South London is like, sonically and lyrically. For me, British rap’s greatest moment. Yeah, seriously.

2. SINDECUT - Sindecut’s Kickin’ Yeah
I own this on vinyl, which makes me awesome. Basically, it’s Sly And The Family Stone’s You Can Make It If You Try fed into the turntable threshing machine that is DJ Fingers and it’s one of the best British rap tracks ever too.

3. FRESHSKI AND MO ROCK – Pick Up On This
Showing my age with this one. Came out at the end of 1987 on Tuff Groove, whoever they were, and the good news is you can find it on Youtube. Check those drum rolls! That brass! Ooh, I’ve just come over all funny.

4. OVERLORD X – Rough In Hackney
It is, of course, perfectly pleasant in Hackney nowadays, but this makes it sound otherwise. This was when most UK hip-hop tried to sound all fin de siécle and mental by throwing everything but the kitchen sink into the mix, to good effect.

5. DICK LIMERICK ACADEMY – The Wedding Wrist
Given that this is a song about Rikky Wiley being caught wanking in his hotel room during a wedding reception, it’s surprisingly funky.

6. DROP – The Beat Bites
Not going to lie to you: you will never ever hear this song, I’m only including it to show what an exciting obscurant I am. It was a white label (actually, it was blue) scratch mix of stuff from about 1987 and the rumour was that it was The Stereo MCs under another name. And that’s all I know.

7. KRISPY 3 – On Tempo
Absolutely brilliant in its ’94 Re-Lick version, this could have provided Kold Sweat with a bona fide chart hit if only they had the budget to promote it. Irresistible double bass bassline, exuberant lyrics, it’s a rap celebration on record.

8. RUM COMMITTEE – Citizen Pinball
I’m biased because I wrote their press biography, but this is the best track on an already superb album. Bukioe’s opening line – “This town be my pitfall” – is a classic example of less saying more, one of my favourite rap lines ever. And what a title! As a way to describe the ebb and flow of nightlife in a city, it’s unmatchable.

9. JEFFERSON PRICE – What You Sayin’ Though
Right up to date now, Jefferson has absolutely smashed the ball out of the park with this one – it wouldn’t sound out of place on Styles Of Beyond’s first album in terms of intensity and lyrical complexity. He comes from Scarborough, for fuck’s sake.

10. PROFESSOR GREEN – Upper Clapton Dance
You’ve definitely heard this one, but I’m throwing this one in in case the casual reader only associates him with dodgy cover versions and Lily Allen hook-ups. This one is fucking BOSS and the video’s good too. He still had bad teeth when it was made.

—————————————————————————————————————————————-

Pete Cashmore is a journalist and editor-at-large for Nuts Magazine. In recent months he has been a fixture at most Don’t Flop rap battle events and is about to make his bow in the battling arena this April against Don’t Flop blogger Bentlegs (both of whom have never rapped, let alone battled before). Pete is battling in aid of Depression Alliance, a cause close to his heart having suffered from depression himself (something he discusses openly in an excellent piece for the official Don’t Flop Blog).

Chattabox & Samuel Otis – Hard Graft (Mixtape Review)

June 3, 2011

Reviews

1 Comment

Photography by Sean Strong at Shutter Studios

Geographically speaking, the UK underground hip-hop scene has no definitive centre. In fact, it’s probably one of the most dispersed of all music scenes in this small, but highly music-orientated nation of ours. Indeed, owing to underground hip-hop’s niche appeal, the scene is largely comprised of individuals with a specific interest in the art form, but who are often scattered across every conceivable corner of the country. Indeed, the pairing-up of Dialect and Three Kings High member Chattabox from South Shields in the North-East and Samuel Otis of South-West crew Lowercase is testament to the UK’s non-region-specific ethos when it comes to hip-hop. The triumph of a common artistic goal in transcending regional boundaries is at the crux of the duo’s work as they explore infinitely relatable, universal themes in their latest mixtape offering titled ‘Hard Graft’ . This, their much-anticipated follow-up to the ‘Stupid o’clock’ mixtape they put out over a year ago, is a 19-track anthology of tracks bursting full with underground beatmaking and emceeing talent, spanning literally the length and breadth of the UK, whilst also featuring guest verses from underground hip-hop icons Copywrite and Mac Lethal out of the US.

In essence, ‘Hard Graft’ is a talent pool of ambitious, unpretentious hard-core enthusiasts who are all appropriately picked out to best suit the duo’s artistic endeavours. It carries some real underground clout in addition to championing consistently sturdy production values which distinguish it from being yet another D.I.Y. hobbyist release with a cobbled-together feel. With its catchy anthemic hooks and its diverse collection of beats, it’s a robust, non-gimmicky, straight hip-hop package released under the auspices of fiercely independent artist-owned label, Killamari Records.

After listening to ‘Hard Graft’ several times, it seems they’re almost selling themselves short calling this a mixtape; though perhaps a couple of redundancies and filler numbers do mar its overall chemistry and thus preclude it from having the full finesse of an album. Content-wise it also comes up slightly short and this makes for a slightly incoherent aesthetic. Indeed, despite the hard graft theme being very resonant, it could do with greater depth and exploration overall. Still, the music itself is as varied as it is well-conducted — and therein lies the greatest strength of the mixtape overall; its “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” character. With its lack of romanticism and ostentation and its favouring of thick, organic beats which give pathos to the straight-laced candour of the two emcees, the mixtape chisels a no-nonsense countenance that is shot through with genuine emotional undertones which it turn lends it real depth and credibility. At times however, the two emcees could do with expanding their thematic palette in order to break through the stale rap platitudes of which they occasionally fall afoul, though, while the lyrics perhaps aren’t quite as evocative as I’ve heard from Chattabox on previous Dialect tracks , they’re still sure to beat ten shades out of most underground artists owing to their consistently solid multisyllabic craftsmanship. Plus, if you’re an indie rap geek like me, there’s also a nice smattering of alt.rap references thrown in for good measure: “You better up your bass levels / Nayfe the British version of a more disturbed pre-Def Jux Cage Kennylz.”

The overall sonic vibe of Hard Graft is excellent and definitely worthy of multiple replays — not merely for the beats but equally for the vocals. Chattabox’s gravelly but eloquent Geordie enunciation combined with Samuel Otis’ South West inflections and the even more remarkable Wurzel-esque country burrs of his Lowercase cohorts exude a hearty provincial flavour refreshingly distinct from that of countless other hip-hop artists tagged crucially as “urban”. The singing talents of Maverick Sabre on ‘I Just Wanna SIT’ also bestow some beautiful, thickly-layered harmonies into the mix too.

Production-wise, the mixtape kicks off with a heavy track by Butta Verses‘ beatmaker extraordinaire Steesh (originally out of the North West), in which the two emcees extol the virtues of grit and hard graft with real emphasis. Dialect producer Peta Max also features on a few joints, bringing a typically sample-heavy set of instrumentals; in my view however, Bristol-based Sweatbox Studios producer Vee Kay has to be credited with the mixtape’s most stellar analogue production which provides a near-perfect soundbed to the duo’s combination of tongue-in-cheek braggadocio and hard-nosed poetics. Lowercase producer Arthur Needlefluff has done a superb job mixing and mastering, as well as producing the anthemic theme-song sampled ‘Back on the Set’ (one of lighter-hearted feel-good joints on the mixtape).

Overall, it’s a real audible treat that offers a little something different. Plus, it’s available for just £3…

PURCHASE ‘HARD GRAFT’

CHATTABOX TV

Scizzahz – Workaholic

May 29, 2011

Features

1 Comment

Hailing from Hastings but based out of Brighton, UK hip-hop artist Scizzahz is one half of O.S.B’z with Wizard, and also part of Genius Squad alongside Vecks, Herbie Dragons, 184, Enlish and Conflix. With a fair few releases to his name, Big Scizz has been putting in the work consistently for years — both as a producer and an emcee. In the process, he’s collaborated with such high-profile UK luminaries as Dr Syntax, Sonnyjim and Beat Butcha; however that being so, you can’t help but feel it’s high time he garnered greater recognition as a solo artist in the UK hip-hop scene given his ubiquitous influence and stellar work ethic.

‘Workaholic’ is the first single off his soon-to-be-released album ‘I Still Work Harder’ which is due to be Scizzahz’ fourth solo studio album release. The album is entirely self-produced and self-mastered, and features guest spots from Dr Syntax, Sonnyjim, Joey G-Zus, Adam The Rapper, TC as well as voice-over commentary from the venerated Gary Martin (credited among other things as being the voice of The Honey Monster). The album promises to explore a more introspective side to the otherwise blithe and comedic Scizzahz you’ve all seen in Don’t Flop battles, with the single ‘Workaholic’ being a clear statement of his everlasting ambition to make it big in the game despite many years spent in relative underground obscurity.

The main thing about Scizzahz that I think appeals to fans of his is that he doesn’t take himself overly seriously, plus the fact he brings on an every-man aesthetic to his battles and his music whilst still proving to be a genuine hardcore hip-hop enthusiast. His direct, straight-forward approach to rhyming also works well and makes him relatable — plus he’s got some swagger, but isn’t over the top with it.

Be sure to keep tabs on this dude and to cop his album as soon as it’s released.

Website: http://www.myspace.com/scizzahz

O.S.B’z Bandcamp: http://osbz.bandcamp.com/

Genius Squad Bandcamp: http://geniussquad.bandcamp.com/

—An Independent UK Hip-Hop Blog

Written by enthusiasts, for enthusiasts.

Archive

Tag Archives: Hip hop

Widening Hip-Hop’s Regional Subcultures

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Support the Underground

Hip-Hop and Geography

H.L.I. – Omniglyph (EP Review)

Benny Diction – Hard Graft, Arts & Crafts and Hearty Laughs (Album Review)

Am I Too Posh for Hip-Hop?

FUR – “ETHIO”

10 Classic UK Hip Hop Tracks (You May Not Have Heard)

Chattabox & Samuel Otis – Hard Graft (Mixtape Review)

Scizzahz – Workaholic

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