You’re Making Music The Wrong Way

A couple years ago spoken word artist, MC and former CB contributor Kyle “Guante” Myhre wrote a satirical piece in response to the growing predictability of hip hop and rap criticism entitled, “How To Write About Hip Hop.” He explained, “As an artist (one who has gotten a whole lot of great write-ups), this isn’t sour grapes—just some funny stuff I’ve noticed. And as a music writer myself, I’m guilty of some of this too. Again, just some stuff I’ve noticed.” Since then, the lighthearted article has gone a long way to helping check some of my own personal tendencies—something I suppose I still struggle with—but it has since slowly eased its way out of mind. Today’s edition of the daily media wave has provided a pair of examples that reminded me of why Myhre’s words matter however, and furthermore, what the true impact of using your own perspective to grade art can have.

There was quite a bit of chatter this morning as a slew of outlets discussed Odd Future’s performance on last night’s edition of Late Night with Jimmy Fallon: “This is as bold as live TV debuts get.” [Rolling Stone] “They curse, they shout and they’re definitely NSFW. But those who can stomach the sometimes-repellent, but always captivating, lyrics will find one of the most daring, in-your-face, and unpredictable musical acts to come along in a long time.” [some CBS blog] “Gonzo L.A. rappers Odd Future made their network television debut count, as the buzzworthy group busted out an unforgettably unhinged performance.” [Billboard]

What? Y’all ain’t never seen a black man get wild before?

My intent here isn’t to detract from the coolness factor of the performance nor to trounce upon the glowing reaction the group received from both blogs and mainstream music outlets alike. I’d simply like to interject with one of Myhre’s rules: “Pretty much everything even halfway good is a ‘classic’.” Pitchfork added, “With the Roots backing them up, Tyler, the Creator and Hodgy Beats delivered an absolutely insane performance.” It was cool, but was it really “insane”-cool?

That alone is a long discussion which deserves a platform of its own, but at the heart of it is really a sense of personal taste. And who am I to say that someone else shouldn’t have such a staggering reaction to a genuinely unique performance? A few years back I remember receiving some grief from a few friends over a glowing review I wrote for P.O.S’ Never Better—an album that continues to stand as one of the most important hip hop records of the past decade (many will likely argue me to death on that). Where this sort of hype begins to take a turn for the negative is if it is used to detract from other artists; you ain’t shit if you ain’t up on Odd Future right now or if you don’t sound like P.O.S you aren’t doing it right. This becomes a bit questionable when it’s not just fans and bloggerz spoutin’ throwaway opinions though, but when large(r) media outlets start up on that tip. Which leads me to an article that appears in this week’s Nashville Scene: a profile of a different act, just with the same tone.

“With an impressive, innovative debut, Sam & Tre are writing a new chapter in Nashville hip-hop” reads the title of an artist profile of the Nashville hip hop duo Sam & Tre. Having only lived in the city a short amount of time I’ve had (at best) limited contact with the music scene as a whole, let alone the clearly segmented rap and hip hop communities that are largely difficult to gauge as an outsider. That said, the headline is something I’d agree with: purists might call ‘em tight jean hipster rap or an extension of the backpackers that came before them, but the duo’s self-titled debut album is something typically not heard in in the city. From there however the tone shifts dramatically.

“Hey aspiring Nashville hip-hoppers, grab your pen and pad, because we’ve got a little lesson about how to pop off straight out of the gate, courtesy of Sam & Tre—and you’ll want to take notes. See, we know that you, the up-and-coming MC, think you’re God’s gift to the rap game—most do—but we’re going to be frank: You’re not. Bragging about how much money you have and then sending us to a busted-ass MySpace page to get your mixtape isn’t helping your case, either.”

The generalization that emcees have massive, unwarranted egos aside, this immediately poses a statement suggesting that there is a right way and a wrong way to not only project yourself as an artist, but that there are limits on how you can create music. In completely writing someone off because they brag about how tight their game is, doesn’t that also suggest that you should blow off any number of other singer/songwriters for going on and on about lives they clearly have never lived? It’s all storytelling, but as the perception of an emcee is largely associated with the lifestyle they project, to some degree they’re held to higher standards in terms of what they’re allowed to touch on. Nick Cave hasn’t killed people (that we know of), so why can’t MC X rap about swag and makin’ it rain? Because he doesn’t have a fancy MySpace page?

“First and foremost, stop trying to sound like other rappers, or at the very least, try to sound like rappers our mom wouldn’t recognize. Think that new verse you wrote sounds just like Drake, and the hook sounds like it could’ve come from a 50 Cent track? Rip it up and throw it away.”

Artists everywhere create works that are similar to other artists, that’s just the nature of inspiration, really. Projecting your individual perception of how people should create, however, seems a bit misguided. People who like 50 and Drake can’t make music that attempts to show that they like 50 and Drake?

“As an example of the right way to do this, take Tre, the vocal half of Sam & Tre.”

This is where that hypothetical reference to Odd Future could get out of hand; you ain’t shit if you ain’t up on Odd Future right now. Not only does a statement like this straight up suggest that there is a right and wrong way of creating art but it projects that the youngblood from Nashville is doing so in a way that begs replication (which would then go against the previous statement: Think that new verse you wrote sounds just like Tre? Rip it up and throw it away). The article goes on to run through a few examples of lyrical dexterity—which again gets back to personal taste—before eventually falling back in line; this time however, with those same tastes and preferences guiding the way.

“Lesson two: Make your own music and make it sound good. For real, we never ever, ever, ever want to hear another over-compressed streaming MP3 that was recorded in Fruity Loops using keyboard pre-sets. Same goes for looping instrumentals from Top 40 hits and ‘features’ from famous artists that you straight-up jacked from the Internet. And while we’re at it: Stop listening to hip-hop all the time. There’s a whole world of music out there, and hip-hop is at its best when it’s pulling from the whole thing—folks like RZA, Q-Tip and Dre didn’t become legends by sticking to the same songs everybody knows, so it’s no different for you. Don’t tell us you’re ‘hustlin” and then drop some lazy, recycled pop shit.”

If this piece were the result of a personal attack it’d make a lot more sense than it does in its present state: “Yo MC X: fuck you and your over-compressed streaming MP3 that was recorded in Fruity Loops using keyboard pre-sets!” Even then, it’s a bit harsh. The issue here is this sentiment further draws the line in the sand of what is and isn’t acceptable. Sure, “lazy recycled pop shit” is likely to be far less inspiring and enjoyable to listen to than something that at least sounds fresh, but that music has its place, too. Not only that, but Sam & Tre are far from the first to plug glitch into their game and introduce elements of “dubstep and electronica” into hip hop; I’m not calling them out—and I do like most of the album—I just think they’re being labelled inappropriately here.

“Our third and final pro tip: Get yourself a copy of Sam & Tre. Those dudes could probably teach you a thing or two about how to make rap right.”

This is where things are taken to another level, and one that really can’t be felt with the sentiment surrounding Odd Future (at least from where I’m sitting). The rap community in Nashville, regardless of subgenre, is already immensely divided. “What is also hurting us is that everyone wants to be the star. Everyone wants to be Kobe [or] Michael” explained Nashville emcee Mac L in a recent interview. And that’s only going to get worse when there are boundaries put in place to limit what is viewed as good and bad; “how to make rap right.” In a city with as many walls already set up preventing artists from legitimately entering the game—say what you will about how diverse the city’s pool of artists is, clearly the old guard still rules—why go out of your way to set up another boundary: As a publication we are willing to break away and give props to a wide range of genres, but only if they sound, act or look a certain way.

Myhre’s final rule reads, “Someday, write a snarky essay criticizing other writers. Remember, only you know what you’re talking about. Everyone else is a neophyte, a poseur or a fool.” This isn’t lost on me. I mean, what do I know? Really? I don’t have any idea of what sort of perspective the writer is coming from other than what he’s published with the article, and me, personally: I’m just some dude with a blog doing the same. Like every other city in the world Nashville does have a glut of bad MySpace rappers, and maybe it has come to a breaking point where they can no longer be tolerated by some. I will say this however, when an outlet with such authority in a city, as the Scene has in Nashville, begins to make definitive public statements about what is and isn’t “good,” let alone what will and won’t be considered for publication (“Recycling Rick Ross? Well, you can count on being blocked from our news feed”), doing so sends a message to rappers who don’t sound a certain way, essentially saying that they can go ahead and fuck themselves. There’s a big difference in detailing how something isn’t of interest to you and flat out saying that something isn’t “right.” As long as such a perspective prevails it will be hard for any progress to be made in terms of changing the world’s perception of what’s actually rumbling in good ol’ Music City.