The Death of Hip-Hop

            I’ve found that in recent years I have almost completely lost all interest in Hip-Hop. It used to speak to me, my feelings, my emotions. There was hardly anything as therapeutic as blasting a certain artist or song and venting through my iPod, my CD player or (many moons ago) my walkman. Rap music used to be that friend that understood me when no one else did. When Tupac bellowed “Me Against the World” it connected with the soul in a powerful way. When Mos Def and Talib Kweli proclaimed what it meant to be “Black Stars” it gave a sense of pride and healthy militancy. Even when Eminem started delving into his crazy, angry, vindictive rants it connected with people from the “other side of the tracks” as it were.

 

 

          
 

             But what has Hip-Hop done for me lately? What has Hip-Hop done for any of us lately? For the most part, the answer is absolutely nothing. Sure, there are gleams of light here and there, but in general, Hip-Hop has indeed lost its soul. Every song on the radio is replete with sexuality and materialism and nothing else. Beats and production are better than ever, but lyrical content is worse and shallower than ever. And I’m not the only one who feels like this.

            Sales are reflecting this truth. The decline began to take place after the turn of the millennium. Many consider the late 80’s to mid-90’s the “Golden Age” of Hip-Hop because of emphasis on social issues and lyrical versatility. But after the turn of the millennium, the music began to focus more on “bling” than brotherhood; more on posturing than on politics. The numbers show that rap sales have declined 44% since 2000 and have gone from 13% of worldwide sales to 10%. Ironically, this was all prophesied by one of hip-hop’s most eloquent sages and veterans, Nas.

 

            In 2006, Nas released his highly controversial album Hip Hop is Dead. In that year, only 2 rap artists went “platinum” (selling over 1 million albums and a source of great braggadocio within Hip-Hop culture) and 14 went “gold” (selling more than 500,000). The next year, the quality and content of the music continued to decline as did the sales. Nas’ eerily prophetic omen had come true. Hip-Hop had lost its mojo and, in my estimation, still has not gotten it back.

            What does all this mean for the future of this art form? It means that if Hip-Hop is going to survive it must change. The creativity must come back; the lyrical dexterity and poetic genius must return. Artists like Lupe Fiasco, Kendrick Lamar and Wale still hold promise for this next generation. While I agree that Hip-Hop is indeed dead, it must not remain dead. Everything must die in order to return to life in a new and fresh way. Hip-Hop must continue to speak for generations to come. Hopefully it can once again be music that speaks to our minds and our souls.

Shalom