Hip-Hop Cosa Nostra: This Thing Of Ours

Recently, some friends and I were sitting around shooting the shit about Slaughterhouse.  Since

no one I hang with is part of the online Hip Hop community, it was

actually me shooting the shit all by my lonely as they looked on with

faces crumpled up like used napkins. Then they channeled Woodsy.

“Who?”

One dude did recall Jump Off.  Another, who is in Atlanta by way of Oakland, knew Crooked I.  Well, he knew the name.  When I asked what he thought about Crooked as an emcee, this is what he gave me.

“I’m

from the West and couldn’t tell you the name of one song this dude made

in his career. Was he nice on the mic? Yes. Did he ever make any hits?

No.”  

Now

you know a good portion of us don’t give one rat’s ass about a hit. As

a matter of fact, it’s almost considered lame to limit your self to

those who sell or to follow mainstream at all in some sectors of the

rap internet. So your I-pod is constantly a topic of discussion among

your friends because you aren’t rocking 12 gigs-o-Flo Rida.

“You ain’t got that ‘Right Round’ on here?  You must not be a real Hip-Hop fan.  That’s damn near the only rap song out these days, ain’t it?”

I just smile and change the subject.

Then another friend of mine, who is also a writer, attempted a Hip-Hop piece for the powers that be where his words call home.  He’s

not especially “up” on the happenings of the genre, so he turned

to yours truly to look it over. I told him he needed an all

encompassing “PAUSE!” as his wording was a bit suspect.  It

was a joke; but since he had no idea what I was talking about, he

looked it up. Of course, he emailed me immediately after his Google

search.   

“Some

guy who wears clip on earrings and pink fur came up with no homo? Does

he say that s**t every time he gets dressed? And that dumb shit is

supposed to dictate my style. Get the f**k outta here.”

I’m not sure if I appreciated the tone of his text.  I was just trying to help dude out.  But I did understand his disdain. I mean, I’m a grown ass woman.  How do I explain “PAUSE!” to another grown ass person without sounding ridiculous?   

I really can’t.  

Considering

all of this made me realize how secret society-ish our ecommunity is

and how odd we appear to the outside world. The musical taste is off

the beaten path.  The semantics leave everyone

else scratching their heads and the dedication to all things digital

gives folks the impression that we are anti-social. Well, some of you

really are maladjusted per normal ecollective rule and regulation, but

that’s not Hip-Hop’s fault. But I digress.

 

Do I feel silly sometimes?  Yes, I must admit I do.  Do

I ever release some “only acceptable in the e-crevices of the Hip-Hop

Nation” comments during a business lunch and wish I could reach out and

retrieve those words?  Yes, more than I should.  Do

I get a little peeved when folks suggest, in jest, I must go home, slide

into some oversized clothes, get high and walk the streets aimlessly

hitting licks and smacking the rears of random unknown bitches?  Most

definitely, especially since I’m a girl. But am I going to turn in my

membership card to the Hip Hop union as to alleviate myself of the

above listed issues?   

No.

This thing of ours, this Hip-Hop Cosa Nostra is ingrained.   We

are a microcosm of the larger musical picture with all the

segments needed to create a complete society; if we haven’t already.  With

expression and artistic capabilities limited only by imagination and

technology, the Hip-Hop Nation has transcended recorded music.  It’s

our culture. While no one dwells inside the rap realm only (the average Hip-Hopper’s style swap game is hella fierce) it should give you pride

to know that you can live in their world, but they wouldn’t stand a

chance in yours.

So

as I dust off that membership card and allow my homie to write what

will without a doubt be the most pauseriffic article ever known in the

annals of Hip-Hop journalism, I smile.  And when

the barrage of questions about why my head does not bob when something

a bit too commercial for my taste flows out of the speakers mounts, I

will again change the subject.

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