|
I love hip-hop. It’s been my inspiration, my medicine and
my escape (‘cuz a brotha can’t afford a vacation). It’s been
there since I was old enough to remember—in my brother’s
crates and piecebooks, on the sidewalks and on the radio.
It’s shaped how I express myself, how I walk, and how I
became the person I am today. However, I gotta tell you—it’s
not what I live and breathe, it’s not what’s gonna raise my
unborn children and it’s not what shapes my daily decisions.
I say this not to try to discredit the accomplishments,
influence and fierce innovation that hip-hop represents. I
say this because I hate to see hip-hop so deified that the
thing that was so fun and rewarding to me and countless
others becomes church. See, I was never raised with
religion—I inherited an allergy to organized religion from
my mother. She always stressed an individual approach:
spirituality rather than dogma. I didn’t get it then, but I
certainly do now. I mention this because so many cats these
days are positively Catholic about hip-hop—and personally,
that shit just turns me the fuck off. I don’t truck with
cult members or evangelists, and I don’t need to be saved.
Of course you should know your history and respect the
founders; but hip-hop ain’t gonna raise my kids, just like
jazz didn’t raise my father’s.
The Cult of Hip-Hop breeds purists—and what the fuck do
purists know anyway? Jazz purists condemned trumpeter Donald
Byrd’s ‘70s genre-bending (and best-selling) albums like
“BlackByrd” and “Places and Spaces”—which today are revered
by crate diggers worldwide. Rock purists called punk
unlistenable noise; yet the Ramones, Clash and Sex Pistols
influenced everything that came after them. While some stuff
may not be your cup of Cris, at least recognize its validity
and keep it moving. We all have our individual tastes, but I
don’t think any one person, movement, music or faith has all
the right answers. In ‘98, as far as I was concerned, Mase
was just as relevant as Company Flow.
I contend that hip-hop is not just what it started with,
but that it incorporates everything around it, flips it and
makes it fresher. Enshrining it and living in the past makes
it static, frozen, dead, suitable for museum walls; shunning
its chameleonic nature kills what makes it so vital and raw
in the first place. I guess I believe hip-hop is not a
temple; it is all of us. By the same token, I believe God is
not the Church; God is us. I don’t think we should belong to
a Cult of Hip-Hop; I think hip-hop is a cult of us—all our
virtues, all our faults and foibles, and all the pop culture
flotsam that’s floated up on the banks of our collective
consciousness. So, when you hip-hop police question if I’m
hip-hop, know this—Goddamn right, motherfucker!
|
