They Not Like Us: Hip Hop's Accreditation (Part 2)

Just so we're clear: this isn't about Drake. This isn't about Kendrick. This is about the headlines, the vloggers, the experts, and the discussion that continues to circulate within Elon's galaxy, in Mark's metaverse, on Beyonce's internet. This #TheyNotLikeUs conversation, as I understand it to be, is fundamentally about hip hop music.

Preserving hip hop culture. Respecting hip hop culture. Protecting hip hop culture. Gatekeeping, and raising standards. Policing authenticity. Identifying and eliminating wastemen. Elevating leaders. Keeping it Black, and keeping it real. This isn't about these two individuals--although they have ignited and amplified the conversation--it's about the longevity of hip hop.

The blessing about hip hop is, is that many of us can actually remember the early days. It's a relatively young phenomenon, with living legends to verify and authenticate the origin stories and details. The history is still quite tangible. We were there, even if in proxy. We experienced it in real time. We consumed it excessively. We exalted it abundantly. We made it grow, we supported it along the way, we amplified it boldly, and we lived it proudly.

For many of us, hip hop is not a theoretical construct or a virtual novelty. It was life. [Insert photo of me in the 90's wearing a hip hop style "2 Black 2 Together" cartoon t-shirt, jean overalls with one strap down, three pairs of coloured socks, 8-hole pseudo-Doc Martin black boots, and a Mary J. Blige-style bandanna over my permed hair. With ringlets. Big gold earrings. And sunglasses. In the suburbs of Ajax, Ontario, listening to hip hop cassettes on my Sony Walkman.] Even at my big age, it is still a part of my life.

I can remember my dad's 45 of "Rapper's Delight." I remember the day my older God-brother played a new song "Just a Friend" from Biz Markie, and how my sister and I thought he was exceptionally cool for having the inside scoop. I remember my uncle in The Bronx keeping up with hip hop culture, and ensuring that he saved and passed on his editions of RightOn! and WordUp! and Ebony and Jet magazines so that his Canadian nieces could also know what was going on.

Many of "us" (even the Canadians) remember what real hip hop felt like, because we were there. Even if we weren't living in The Bronx, we were connected. Even if we didn't grow up in the United States of America, the east coast, west coast, down south, or otherwise...we had a link. In the UK. In Canada. South America. Africa. Wherever Black people existed...we remember, because hip hop was "us" too.

We cheered watching the BET and Source Awards. We felt pride seeing brothers like Jay and Diddy rise in business and reach iconic status. We wore Phat Farm/Baby Phat. We supported the careers and the momentum of the hip hop culture and industry wholeheartedly. From across the African Diaspora, "we" were hip hop too.

In fact. Everyone eventually fell in love with hip hop. The Asians and Latinx. White and Indigenous communities. Everyone eventually found commonality with the messages. The bravado. The struggle. The fan fare. The lyricism. The dancing. The mixing and mastering. The art. The celebration. The DJing, and fashions. The storytelling. The realness. The joy. The community. On some level, I think music lovers of all nationalities found connection within this powerful genre. It was--and still is--a trendsetter across borders. THE trendsetter.

Now that the Juneteenth and Fourth of July celebrations and communications of "They Not Like Us" have been successfully executed, circulated, celebrated, and dissected, I can see that the hip hop pride messaging is steady and righteous, and folks are standing firm in their declarations. Still boldly punking Aubrey for being a wack "Canadian Jewish Guy" who had the audacity to expertly hijack hip hop personas and awards like a refined Oscar-winning thespian in proud moments of structured deception.

But this is not about Drake. East Coast. West Coat. Bloods n Crips. America. Africa. White. Black. The Jamaicans (somehow we're always in the mix, I swear) ...this is about Hip Hop. The artform.

Coincidentally, Kendrick/Drake aside, I have been unfollowing pop culture and hip hop-centric accounts and pundits like a m-effer these days. Dare I say: the boldness and arrogance/ignorance is tapping epic heights, that even Dwight Howard couldn't reach.

Reflecting on the accounts that were most raising my blood pressure, I realized: some of these were THE quintessential hip hop outlets back in my day. I realized, there's a lot more going on in the culture...beef aside. 

I do believe hip hop needs an internal assessment. Like an accreditation process, where a select board of experts reevaluates the structures and systems and channels for their efficacy, and then provides recommendations for saving the institution.

No cap: I believe this year of truth that is 2024 requires a deep hip hop SOS. 

In order to assess the state of hip hop, "we" collectively must decide a few things. Who are the top hip hop journalists, who "the culture" agrees have the best perspectives, musical pedigree, legitimate experience, and earned respect? Once these experts are established, then, what level does "the culture" gatekeep and regulate their reports, discussions, and declarations? Who decides what gets published, and where? 

Google and Complex Magazine believe top experts and influencers include: DJ Vlad. Elliott Wilson. Sway Calloway. Joe Budden. Wait...big up our Canadian Nardwuar for making all the lists! Angie Martinez. Charlamagne. Big Boy. Funkmaster Flex. Peter Rosenberg. Ebro. Angela Yee. DJ Akademiks. N.O.R.E. Jason Lee. Van Lathan. Adam22. Kai Cenat...to name a few.

The leaders in publishing and broadcasting hip hop journalism over the years? XXL, The Source, VIBE? The Breakfast Club? BET? MTV? What [other] outlets are the most prolific, and do their current metrics reflect that? What is the variation like, across generations? What sources of measurement do "we" respect? Followers/subscribers? Views? Likes? Shares? Longevity? Awards? Sales? Celebrity? Time pieces? Grills? Shape/body? Business acumen? Invitations to Michael Rubin's Fourth of July All White party in the Hamptons?

Do radio personalities still hold the same weight in guiding and shaping hip hop culture? Has this power translated now to YouTubers and TikTokers?

Who inevitably is responsible for gatekeeping and monitoring the voices, perspectives, streams, and impact of hip hop culture on its audience? Who gets to determine what audience/streams matter, and what generation has the most influence on the direction of the culture? Which perspective holds the most weight?

So many questions, beyond Kendrick and Drake. And I get. I really do. I overstand why folks are irritated by Drake, and feel that he has built an entire counterfeit career on the soul and backs of an African American culture of which he was not geographically born into. Genetically, yes. Geographically, not even. As an actor, Canadian, bi-racial fellow, and yute from Forest Hill with purchased connects.

For the record: I was listening to Drizzy in my car just today out of habit. "One Dance" still goes hard. "Sticky" is still a certified bop.

I get it. Birth right. And then I saw this image, and thought of a few other examples. I thought about the moves made and lifestyles of the rich and famous and the literal descendants of hip hop pioneers. Do we include this in discussions about the various iterations of hip hop inclusion and performative culture?

Asking for a friend. A friend who used to watch and genuinely enjoy Daddy's Girls on TV.

I know. My real-world conversations are limited. My online interactions are niche. My understanding of hip hop is textbook, at best. I tend to have a pop-culture lens when viewing the world...I observe many activities through the eyes of [social] media, peppered with on-the-ground encounters and mega events. As an eager daily observer, nonetheless, I am highly interested in where this conversation goes. It matters to me.

Since I'm going there--drawing cards, and pointing fingers--I have so many more questions!

Who do we elect as the President/Prime Minister of hip hop, who gets to select and monitor the rules of order, processes of sustainability, and leaders of various sectors? From the conversations as of late, I feel like Kendrick is getting this crown?

Is he that guy? For the culture...for the moment, for the generation? Is Kdot the voice of the people? The Chosen One? I don't ask these questions to be facetious, I ask because I am also frustrated with the direction hip hop is headed. I am irked by the bootie shaking and bling showcasing, the Meg and Red and Ice and the shady rooms and tabloid nature of it all.

I'm concerned that even the greatest and most intelligent and notorious of hip hop leaders have been compromised by power, money, rituals, and other brand legalities. Mixup and politics. I'm concerned that a lot of what we have essentially grown up on and believed to be "true" and/or "real" ...is really just a corporate charade. An act, like Jimmy in the wheelchair on Degrassi Street. Epic theatre, with million-dollar insignias.

I am concerned for our youth: Black, white, and all the hues in between. 

Now that we've unanimously decided there is a definitive "us" and "them" ...I'd like to see what happens next. What [non-violent] force is taken to ensure that "someone like Drake" doesn't infiltrate the community and upset everyone to this level again? For years, with audacity. What voices are amplified, and which ones are silenced?

Are we as hip hop fans from around the globe qualified enough to determine what side of the line we reside on? Us? Them? Do we reserve these decisions for the highest institutions of academia, elite lyricists, or neighbourhood hierarchies?

If you have answers to any of said questions above, from your informed perspective...or if you would like to guide me to references, articles, voices, or school me on a side of the discussion that I may be oblivious to as a result of my limited Jamaican-Canadian livity and lens...please advise.

Until then...here are two recently published (2024) books from George the Poet and QuestLove that I have lined up to help me assess and interpret the bigger picture. As always, I'm open to (and happily welcome) any conversation or feedback on the topic, in the spirit of collective understanding and growth. (And because sometimes it's exhausting and heartbreaking to look at the international issues, wars, genocides, and the related faulty politics...)

I kinda need hip hop to work out, because it's been the root of so much joy and inspiration and an abundance of good vibes in my life. Millions of lives! Better we investigate and fix it, than assassinate it ourselves, you know?

Thanks for reading this :)

If you are so inclined, I invite you to take a look at my young adult novel about a teenage Canadian girl learning to navigate and build a streaming community of like-minded peers, as they challenge their Caribbean cultural heritage and related beliefs. It's called Dancehall Rebel, and it's available on Amazon.