Editor’s note: The
views expressed inside this editorial aren’t necessarily the views of
AllHipHop.com or its employees.“Societies never
know it, but the war of an artist with his society is … to make freedom real.”
—James Baldwin
When up against the wall, swing—hard.
Two of the finest from the Hip-Hop
community, Joell Ortiz and Erykah Badu, last month proved that axiom
right—desperate times call for desperate measures. In their unique ways, with
their unique minds, both put down examples of the good a bit of courage mixed
with creativity always creates.
Let’s start with Mr. Ortiz and pick up
Ms. Badu somewhere along.
It was a predicament most are familiar
with. Nothing new to the industry. This time, however, a Rap artist put his
feet to the pedal and pressed on, never looking back. I speak here of Joell
Ortiz’s March 21 Twitter air-out of E1 Music, the label and independent
distributor, over a Pharaoh-like move to prevent his crew signing to Shady.
“[L]ittle known fact-E1 also jamming me
up from doing a major, major deal as part of Slaughterhouse. so they aint
getting FREEAGENT,” he began roaring that morning. “E1 is f**king c**kblocking
us from doing something monumental for our fans and our careers. I dont give a f**k
who gets mad. [It’s] the truth im sick of the behind the scenes politics. [It’s]
time to expose certain bloodsuckers to some light. enough is enough.”
Nothing Ortiz had to say broke new
grounds or blazed trails. For decades, artists have served as handkerchiefs for
snot-nosed label heads. (They even got Hi-Tek)
It’s 2010, so I assume most reading this fall under no illusions that major
record labels actually value Hip-Hop music as an artistic and cultural contribution
to human development. (Recue the laugh track.) There’s big money in it (though not
as much as before), and till this cow is milked dry, Black artists can sleep
tight—they’ll get their crumbs. (Of course they’ll rather ride on chrome 24-inch
wheels and tie silvery chains around their necks than put some pay away for
union dues; but that’s a topic for days ahead.)
Only difference with Ortiz was the
medium used, and the audacity of his posts—the unbridled nature. (We all
remember months back when Soulja Boy grew tired of the “crackers” in his ear,
and let them have it through Twitter. Like most, I laughed—then sighed: he’s much
too young for that kind of pressure. Chris Rock handled his
cracker-moment better.)
But to Ortiz goes the spoils—for capping
right at the midriff of his overlords. “E1 steady telling me I suck cause I
dont make DJ Khaled music,” he went on. “[A]t
the same time they try to block me from eating elsewhere. … Mark my words. E1
holding good brothers up cause of my agreement. its not fair to Slaughterhouse
It’s all bulls**t.”
Before long one of his 32,000 followers
rang E1, and his manager fell into panic mode, trying to leash Ortiz. Didn’t
work out—not with the guy who wrote “Exhibit
H(aiti).” You’re messin’ with the wrong, Borinqueño!
And before long, E1 heads were running
through yellow pages, tearing out the private security section. “Sum labels
forgot about the goons… They’re alive and hungry.. Exec’s #thinkaboutdat,”
cautioned one of Ortiz’s minions. “[D]on’t let them stop you from getting the
shady deal, im with you if you wana start a riot in their building,” another
fired off. “[M]an if they blockin yall from goin to shady we can start a f**kin
protest outside they offices!” yet another proposed. And more and more and more
and more.
I’m sure the next time Ortiz walked into
E1 offices in New York, eyes stalked him like a bearded Arab strolling through
JFK airport with a black box tucked underneath his arm. But I’m also sure
respect—indeed fear—like never before addressed him through the lips of the
suits.
I think Hip-Hop artists—most of which
fair in worse deals than Ortiz—should wise up and begin calling out, individually,
whoever’s boot rests against their heads. You got the power. You got the
influence. And you got the nut-job followership ready to deliver the warning
personally to Pharaoh—let our artists go!
Yippee-ki-yay…!
Then comes Erykah Badu, jolting this
anti-sex, order-obsessed, puritanicalism-pushing society, telling it to drop
the veil. When grown men face
charges
for prancing around naked in their homes, you know insanity is onthe verge. Ms. Badu knows this. So she puts society at the window seat, before
flicking her hat, retiring to the cockpit, and hurling passengers up, thousands
of feet from land—the better to objectively observe reality: that not only is
promiscuity the cousin of puritanicalism, but attempts to police conduct only
further betray this fact. Regulate all you want, she is saying, legislate all
you please—but don’t for a second consider anyone but yourselves fooled. What
did Hafez say? “On the pulpit, at the time of ecstasy, and of the manifestation
of hypocrisy.”
Ms. Badu also had another point to make,
perhaps more sobering: most people don’t think, and believe all they hear and
read unquestioningly; most people are crowd-pleasers—group-thinkers. And if you
dare stand up, have on a strapped MTV vest. George Carlin would be proud. What
did Twain say? “The best of us would rather be popular than right. I found that
out a good while ago.”
Speaking with the Wall Street Journal late last month, Ms. Badu explained
the concept of her—for some reason my puny mind cannot grasp—controversial video, “Window Seat.” She
strolls down Dealey Plaza, in downtown Dallas, and sheds clothes, emotions, and
constraints, to represent “not conforming to what society would expect you to
do.” And so it is that upon reaching destination, the Grassy Knoll, at which that famous president bid farewell in
1963, a gunshot strikes her nude body down, as blood flows out to spell out “Groupthink.”
So can I get a window seat?/ Don’t want nobody next
to me/ I just want a ticket outta town/ A look around and a safe touch down/
Can I get a window seat?/ Don’t want nobody next to me/ I just want a chance to
fly/ A chance to cry/ And a long bye bye/
Right on cue, the puritans descended,
pot and pan in hand, clanging away: Erykah Badu is sullying society,
disrespecting decency. Didn’t she see kids around? What’s wrong with her?
Aren’t there better—less abrasive—ways to send the same message? What good does
this do? Does she really need the attention (and sales)?
But before Ms. Badu, had come Punk duo
Matt and Kim, with their innovative video single “Lessons Learned,” released
last year, in which both strip down on a stroll through Times Square. So the
grounds, as with Joell Ortiz, don’t necessarily open up. Only difference is the
courage and creativity with which her message was delivered. And for that, she
mightily threatens the lot who would prefer we all wore around turtlenecks,
khaki jeans, and thigh-high boots.
Drop the veil, society! Our eyes can see
you clean and clear. You want order, peace, and protection, but bomb at whim
and set foreign villages ablaze at will. You want a prosperous future, but
treat children worse than earth scum. You want piety and morality, but forget
so quickly the sins of the past: sins which women hanged and burnt, naked
Africans examined on auction blocks,
Native Americans driven off the planet, would keep forever at tip of your
consciousness.
Drop the veil, society—and clean the
mirror!
Tolu
Olorunda is a cultural critic whose work regularly appears on
AllHipHop.com, TheDailyVoice.com, and other online journals. He can be reached at: