I always feel like I need to apologize for liking gangster rap music. I don’t know why I have that feeling. Well, actually, I think I do know, and it’s a really sad reason. Too many people judge those who listen to three specific types of music: heavy metal, emo, and gangster
rap. They think that people who listen to metal are all secret serial killers, or something like that. And of course anyone who listens to emo is way too emotional (hence, the title of the genre) and needs to get some tough love. While gangster rap lovers are all degenerates who don’t respect women or themselves.
The first rap album I ever listened to was Dr. Dre’s The Chronic, an album that I claim to this day is one of the most cohesive albums ever made. While it uses harsh lyrics, swear words, and disrespectful comments towards women, black people, and others, the “sick beats” are incredible. They ebb and flow with a consistency that is startling from something that isn’t “art rock” or folk music. What Dr. Dre did was create a genre that pays homage to the storytelling technique of epics like Homer’s Iliad, while also being quite fresh a history of the streets and the foibles of humans who admit to their mistakes. It is an honest portrayal of all things “ghetto” and of the fight between East and West that sadly took too many lives, and still continues to do so. When I listen to Dr. Dre, I hear all of that rolled into one, like the theoretical rolling of papers that inspired the title of the work.
Add to that urban anthem the music of 2Pac and Eazy-E, other West coast veterans who recognized the art of the honest, gritty lyric. 2Pac, in his song California Love, explained it best. “I been in the game for ten years makin rap tunes. Ever since honeys was wearin’ Sassoon. Now it’s ’95 and they clock me and watch me. Diamonds shinin lookin’ like I robbed Liberace.” The idea that someone writing something so true to a life that for so long had been vilified, that a person of that ilk could make a living writing down and sharing poems about that life, and get rich off of it, was unheard of. But it wasn’t just about making “bills” in those early days of gangster rap. It was about representin’, about livin’ the life and about representin’. And it still is today, with rappers like The Game and T.I. keeping the tradition very much alive in the 21st century.
What’s even more incredible than the origins, the beats, and the lyrics, is exactly who the audience for this type of music is. You would honestly be surprised, you know, unless you’re one of us, but fans of the genre include everyone from Bill, the homeless guy who sleeps on the grate on the corner of 13th and Market Streets to George Lopez, the comedian. It crosses racial lines and barriers as smoothly as a hot knife moves through butter, even if if involves a secret society in order to get a true idea of the rising fan base. In order to truly tell, look at the charts, look at the album and single sales, the number of downloads, and you can see.
So, I apologize for liking one of the most honest, most intense, most artistic, most beat-heavy forms of poetry set to music ever composed. Please forgive me.
Sam