Body
Rock with
DJ Ivan, DJ B-Mello, DJ KD, UNI-T
Berbati's Pan 231 SW Ankeny St., 248-4579
9 pm Saturday, Jan. 8 $7
"I peeped how radio be tryin' to take control/ tellin'
me to give a little lighter on my lyrics/ but if it ain't
real on the mic I can't feel it..."
--Buckshot Shorty
"You don't wanna play around/ you don't wanna play around/
you don't wanna play around with me..."
--Joe Hooker
Peace and blessings to all eyes reading the
inaugural edition of the only column in Portland
dedicated to the preservation of hip-hop culture. Each week,
readers will receive insights on the Hip-Hop Nation's evolution
from humble beginnings in the South Bronx into the most
pervasive movement on the planet Earth. Of course, there
will be occasions when the critiques infuriate folks, which
is perfectly all right--if you don't feel it, then it ain't
real.
All formalities being said, it's time to get down to business.
One Saturday night, a couple of friends and I dined at
Garbonzo's, discussing the crucial differences between rap
and hip-hop. Our server, a white girl from Alabama whom
I'll call Cindy, jumped in. And, oh, did Cindy have a lot
to say.
Cindy named groups she thought represented hip-hop (De
La Soul, A Tribe Called Quest, Eric B. & Rakim) and
those who fall into the rap category (Snoop Dogg, Hot Boyz).
She accurately classified Jammin' 95.5 as a rap music station,
expressing utter disgust with the hit station's format.
Mainstream radio is the easiest gauge of whether a record
is rap or hip-hop. A rap single must go through the censors.
DMX's thugged-out "Ruff Ryders Anthem," entirely toned down
for a crossover audience, is the prime example. Hip-hop
artists aim their lyrical content at true headz, the brothers
and sisters living the hip-hop lifestyle.
Here's what headz have to say about the subject:
"Hip-hop is more the hardcore B-boys, majority underground
cats tryin' to get on the scene," Rasheed Wallace said in
the locker room one night, after he lit up Minnesota with
23 points and five boards. "Rapping is more commercial,
mainstream. Either way, you're making money."
There are other factors separating the two concepts. Hip-hop
is a culture, encompassing breakdancing, graffiti, deejaying
and emceeing as well as the clothing, slanguage and spirituality
surrounding these arts; rapping is merely an aspect
of the culture. Rappers, usually, are proficient rhyme sayers.
True hip-hop MCs, on the other hand, are not only able to
rhyme, but can also pen pieces elevated beyond ghetto mentality.
"Rap is the low-end term for MCs," says Ethan Machado,
The Oregonian's hip-hop writer. "Rappers get
lumped in with MCs, although they are an inferior version
of MCs."
Some headz look East for the meaning of hip-hop. There
is something innately New York about the music, and (fair
or not) everything is compared to that sound. Even
headz in other sections of the country take this view. Jesse
Peterson, an abstract, snowboarding Portland native, says
"Rap--pick your West Coast band."
Another Portland native and hardcore head, Aaron R., went
further and gave his viewpoint on the local movement. "There's
no hip-hop scene in Portland," Aaron spits with chagrin.
"There's a Baby Huey, brand-new-funk, wet-behind-the-ears
rap clique in the city. They might as well be a book club."
Unfortunately, there is truth to R.'s harsh critique. Home-grown
cats continue to perform to stale DAT tapes. Without a live
DJ pausing the beat and avoiding monotony with a wicky-wicky
on the record, rappers here will remain rappers.
2000 will hopefully bring a fresh change to the game in
Portland. Somebody has to bring the ruckus. Step up and
get your shine on.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Willamette Week | originally
published January 5,
1999
|
