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Slap-Boxing With Jesus

Hipster-Hop: The New Backpack Rap

This weekend I flipped through my collection of music and came across an album and a mixtape I’ve not listened to in some time: Redman’s Muddy Waters and Clipse’s We Got It For Cheap, Vol. 2. Going back to these joints I couldn’t help but remember when these artists were at the top of their respective games: Redman’s intoxicated, frat-boy demeanor and Pusha T and Malice’s intricately complex coke raps were the stuff of rap purists’ wet dreams. Being an East Coast hip-hop loving anomaly living on the West Coast I automatically assumed I was the only hump that didn’t solely listen to the likes of Kausion and motherfucking Mr. Short Khop, and I'd never find like-minded peoples around my neck of the woods.

In actuality, I'd stumble across a group of peoples that actually did share my sentiments. Unfortunately a good majority of them belong to the so-called hipster crowd, an audience I more or less don’t understand what the deal is. According to its Wiki hipsters are nothing more than elitist, quasi-homosexual schlubs that listen to “alternative” musical genres and front like they’re better than everybody else. Hmm... If I didn’t know any better, you’d think it was describing me... nah. I like Biggie Smalls, sneakers and pussy too much to ever fall into that category.

Then again, I could also say that I once fell into its predecessor way the fuck back when I was barely passing junior college: the alleged “backpack” crowd back when DMX, Ja Rule and Jay-Z were the original Murder Inc [1]. When Rawkus Records had their magical run between 1997 and 2001, I could clearly recall when there were oodles of funny style tree bark chewers proclaiming that Mos Def, Talib Kweli, Company Flow and Pharoahe Monch were the second coming of the Native Tongues family (which in itself was the forefather to the hipster music genre). Eventually being a genuine fan of them took a backseat to associating their music with coolness, and every Blue Ribbon-guzzling, Air Max-wearing, meatcutter jeans rocker were on their proverbial nuts.

They actually fooled the TIs as well, even convincing MCA to sign a distribution deal with Rawkus, which would have been an ideal set up for both artist and label Israeli to cake up lovely. However the one thing missing from the equation was the fact that backpackers don’t buy records to begin with, either out of claiming to go “against the grain” and not support the curly-muttonchop aesthetics of said Israelis, or just being plain broke from copping all those ugly-ass Nike Blazers at Urban Outfitters [2]. Long story short Rawkus crashed and burned worse than Cory Lidle, Mos Def has ditched rap for movie guap, Pharoahe Monch sold about 8 copies of his last album (and I actually bought one too!) and Mad Skillz has been limited to long-played out yearly “Rap Up” tunes. Fast-forward to now where the Clipse sold about 8 copies of their last album (and I actually bought one too!) and Redman couldn’t even break wind much less break 200,000 copies of Red Gone Wild. Coincidence? I highly doubt that.

If today’s music weren’t so god(dess)-awful, I’d blame the hipsters for single-handedly destroying rap music as a whole. In my eyes they’re akin to leeches, sucking the financial life and career longevity out of rappers, then unflinchingly moving on to the next act to mooch from. Shit, they’ve already gotten their claws in the likes of Ghostface Killah and Lupe Fiasco. Good thing they don't like West Coast music nowadays; after what they did to Dilated Peoples and Xzibit, I'd be a little concerned for... um... Blu & Exile or something.

[1] What’s funny is that when they were together they were all accomplished, top-selling acts, and now that they’re apart they couldn’t sell out their mother to the cops. Sad, really.

[2] That’s got to be the most contradictory thing I’ve ever seen. For real folks, tall Israelis aren’t just running this rap shit; they’re running this world shit. Deal with it already.

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