Why doesn't hip-hop respect its elders?

• Share on Facebook
• Share on Twitter
• Share via Email
• Copy Link

  Link Copied

Which begs the question of why hip hop legends that helped to create this now-global culture are seldom given the respect or platform they deserve. It’s true that hip hop is youth-oriented and built around battling and besting the next man, and that’s not necessarily a mindset that breeds respect. And as The Guardian noted in its music blog, the urban family structure may influence hip hop’s treatment of its elders:

“Culturally, the lack of a father figure in a majority of ghetto homes also plays a role. Hip-hop manifests this as an obsession with one’s immediate peer group and a dismissal of elders. Knowledge isn’t handed down; what little knowledge there is gets shared by peers. People raised in ‘the streets’ know nothing but ‘the streets.’ The codes and the rules of the streets don’t necessarily allow reverence for elders.”

True enough, but there’s a larger factor in the equation that no one is talking about, and that’s the influence of corporations. It’s no secret that corporations now control mainstream hip hop culture — if it can even be called a culture anymore.

One company — Viacom — owns BET and MTV. One company — Clear Channel — owns the majority of radio stations in the country. One company — Live Nation — produces most of the concerts in the U.S. And since 1988, the major labels have been reduced from six to three.

So the result is a consolidation of control over our music, and a very small number of people deciding what a large number of people will see and hear. Corporations now determine who gets signed, who gets radio spins, who gets national tours and who appears on 106 & Park.

And this, in turn, determines who gets covered by your favorite magazines and blogs, because at this point, hip hop journalism has degenerated from actual reporting and analysis to blindly promoting “hot” artists in an effort to draw readers and boost page views.

Even “indie” promotional outlets like social media and YouTube are heavily influenced by corporations; try watching any video without seeing an ad for Rihanna, Nicki Minaj, 2 Chainz, etc. The result of corporations controlling hip hop is the total degradation of our music and culture. What began as a tool for black progress and a movement with the power to pick up where Civil Rights left off has become a weapon against the very community that created it, with a barrage of images and messages that promote the destruction of self, family and community.

Hip hop’s original tenets of peace, love, unity, fun and knowledge of self are glaringly absent from the corporate rap paradigm, which caters to a young, mostly white audience that would rather see caricatures of black life than hear about the violence exploding in Chicago, or the number of blacks in prison, or the quality of our school systems.

That’s not to say that old school artists were universally positive and new school artists are universally negative. There are still bright spots in the current commercial landscape, like Kanye West and Jay-Z’s “Murder to Excellence,” and classic rap wasn’t all flowers and unicorns. Not every old school song depicted inner-city life as vividly as Grandmaster Flash’s “The Message,” nor did every song advocate for female empowerment like Queen Latifah’s “U.N.I.T.Y.” or denounce drug use like MC Lyte’s “Cappucino.” But even when N.W.A. breathed fire on “F**k tha Police,” they were protesting oppressive conditions in their community, not advocating for them as so much modern-day rap does.

And there was a sense of diversity and authenticity in hip hop before the mid-to-late ‘90s corporate takeover. From Rakim to KRS-One to Ice-T to A Tribe Called Quest, rappers came off as real people expressing real feelings, not studio thugs or characters created in some corporate conference room.

Now that most mainstream rap has been reduced to mass-produced ignorance, most artists sound the same and every mainstream rap song revolves around some combination of drugs, alcohol, violence, crime, misogyny and materialism. You will not hear about the black unemployment rate, but you will hear French Montana and friends rapping about women tiptoeing on Italian marble floors. So it makes sense that old school rappers have no place in the new school corporate paradigm, because these two schools are two worlds at odds, with clashing messages and goals. One promoted survival; the other celebrates death.

Of course many older artists are going to fade in popularity. Of course styles change and new trends take hold. Not every artist can claim the fan base they once had, not every artist will maintain their skill level and not every artist wants to be a part of hip-hop well into middle age; some will simply outgrow the culture and move on to other things. But the virtual erasure of old school hip-hop figures from the new school landscape is not about rusty rappers or fading popularity and new trends. It is a calculated move by corporations that are busy selling ignorance and silencing sources of enlightenment. The corporate rap paradigm profits off of black dysfunction, and old school hip-hop artists merely represent a dent in their profit margin.

Cross-posted at RapRehab.com.

Lauren Carter is a writer and editor, music junkie, hip hop head and healthy living enthusiast based in Boston. Connect with her on Twitter @ByLaurenCarter or visit her blog at www.bylaurencarter.com.