I saw a video from the Black Eyed Peas today on VH-1 Soul. I actually watched the whole thing. Now, please understand that I am by no means a Black Eyed Peas fan. I’m not talking about the current iteration of the group. I’m not talking about the Wonder if I take you home, My humps, my humps my lovely lady lumps. I’m talkin’ ‘bout the Fergie-less, raw, Los Angeles Hip Hop group that didn’t dress in ridiculous costumes and sing popcorn lyrics. I’m talkin’ ‘bout Joints and Jams. What I’m talkin’ ‘bout, y’all, is HIP HOP. I remember the first hip hop show I ever saw. I think i was about 12, and I saw UTFO, the Real Roxanne, and Rockmaster Scott and the Dynamic 3 (the 3 is for 3 words: one hit wonder). Hip hop was break dancing. It was poetic. It was creative. It was HOT!
It pains me that mainstream media and radio (translated: clear channel, aka the evil empire) continue to call the current Black Eyed Peas Hip Hop. These guys actually were signed by Ruthless Records back in the day. Yeah, THAT Ruthless Records. Eazy-E's Ruthless Records. Not that the old Black Eyed Peas were the standard by which all hip hop groups were measured. They weren’t exactly Boogie Down Productions or A Tribe Called Quest, and definitely weren’t Wu Tang or Public Enemy. They had a nice little flow. They had a good lookin' sistah singin' their hooks, with a smooth sultry voice. I guess sista-girl (Kim Hill) was a little too ethnic for their move to the mainstream. They even ditched their live band.
The good thing about hip-hop was always that it had a voice and like the different slangs and dialects, that voice had something a little different to say depending on what part of the country it came from. There was a different sound. Hip hop in LA had a party feel. Miami had its bass. New York was definitely coming from a position of being the birthplace of hip hop, the trend setters...the inner city, the concrete jungle.
Then everybody went and got gangsta, which was cool, because for some, that was their reality. The establishment got worried. Tax dollars were spent on banning some performances, or preventing radio play. Parental advisories were put on the CD covers. Even the little Studio Gangstas were being put on the most wanted list. It was never quite clear though if the fear was that suburban America was becoming ghetto-fied or that too many guys from the ghetto were getting rich and the Puff Daddy’s of the World were infiltrating the country club. And they brought the Thunder! There were task forces. Congressional hearings. The FBI was after NWA. I mean, really. Jay-Z said it quite plainly:
First black in the suburbs, you’d think I had xtc, perkoset and plus sherm …thought back to the block, never saw a cop when I was out there, they never came out there, and out there I was slingin crack to live, I’m only slingin’ rap to your kids..you don’t want your little ones actin like this…little joey got his doo rag on drivin down the street blastin’ Tupac songs (THUG LIFE, BAAAABY!),…HELL YEAH! …you don’t like that do ya…you f&%@d up the hood…right back to you
Clearly, something had to be done. Too bad they didn't continue down the path of taking legal action, and maybe pushing the art deeper underground. No, what happened was much worse.
Unfortunately, somewhere along the way somebody decided to flip the script. It was probably like that scene from the Godfather when all of the 5 families got together to call a truce. “I believe this drug business is going to destroy us,” pleaded Brando’s Don Corleone. “I wanna control it, keep it as a business…keep it respectable…keep it with the dark people…keep it away from schools and children. Keep it among the coloreds, they’re animals anyway,” one of the other Dons explained. Instead of banning the music, they relaxed the restrictions and let anything and everything on the radio.
It's getting late again. Stay tuned tomorrow as I go for day #2 on this soap box, and give my 2 or maybe 3 cents on how R&B was ruined too.
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