What Makes an Emcee Dope Full Text

I owe special thanks to my thesis advisor, Professor Ron Eyerman, whose knowledge, enthusiasm, and patience helped keep me on the right track; Professor Ivan Szelenyi for his help during the preliminary stages of my research in 2004; the Harold G. Welch Research Fellowship; NuSonRize and Self-Suffice for the all the time they spent providing feedback and insight as friends and secondary thesis advisors; Beaujangles and Fitzgeezus for confronting issues of authenticity with me; Professor Nicholas Conway for bringing the “Hip-Hop Music and Culture” seminar to Yale and for introducing me to a number of Hiphoppas who’ve since become close friends; iCON for putting me in contact with numerous artists whose interviews have proved invaluable; and all the artists who took the time to let me interview them.

Finally, I would like to express my immense gratitude to the pioneers of Hip-Hop for developing the music and culture and taking it in the directions they did.

This essay uses the emcee (M.C.) as a focal point for discussing authenticity and participation rights in Hip-Hop. A starting point for this discussion is an essay published in the Journal of Communication in 1999 entitled “Authenticity Within Hip-Hop and Other Cultures Threatened with Assimilation.” In it, Kembrew McLeod (1999) describes how he used primary research to identify several dimensions of authenticity in Hiphop that could be used to understand “how a culture in danger of assimilation seeks to preserve its identity” (134-8). Because he used research that was more representative of Hip-Hop culture as a whole,¹ (in that he did not focus disproportionately on commercial representations of Hip-Hop), his study had the potential to make a unique contribution to a field that has struggled to make sense of Hip-Hop authenticity.

Unfortunately, it seems that McLeod approached his research with, and built the foundation of his analysis upon, the assumption that Hip-Hop can be understood within a reductive social and cultural framework: since rap stems from African oral and musical traditions (Rose, 64, 85) and because Hip-Hop is infused with Black, urban aesthetics (Rose, 12), its only authentic participants are of African descent and from the inner city (EN1). Though this conclusion may seem logical, it does not account for Hip-Hop’s cultural and ideological complexity, and is a telling example of why Hip-Hop studies requires more than reductive social and cultural analysis.

Too often, academic writing on Hip-Hop relies heavily on mass media depictions of Hip-Hop or is written by people who are too far removed from the culture. Keeping in mind that Hip-Hop can not only ‘rock your body,’ but also affect your consciousness^,2 I contend that much of the scholarly work on Hip-Hop has failed to account for a crucial ideological current that has been a part of the culture for decades: ‘It ain’t where ya from, it’s where ya at!’³ Through a careful analysis of relevant texts, extensive primary research in the form of artist interviews, and an emphasis on a crucial source of Hip-Hop, I will challenge current modes of interpretation and propose some alternative ways to think about Hip-Hop authenticity.

1. McLeod formed his argument by examining a body of pertinent discourse (Hip-Hop magazines, internet discussion groups, song lyrics, and press releases) selecting the most prominent themes related to authenticity, and then validating them through a series of phone interviews with various Hip-Hop artists (134-8).

2. The idea of affecting one’s consciousness, here, describes a point at which listener and performer connect on a mental, emotional or spiritual level. This idea is inextricably tied to an ideology in Hiphop, a part of which is the ability of an emcee to “connect to a collective rhythm”—a concept articulated by D.C. hip-hop artist, Head-Roc (2005).

3. “It ain’t where ya from, it’s where ya at!” comes from the song “I Know You Got Soul” on Erik B. and Rakim’s classic album, Paid In Full (1987). The phrase has become a Hiphop mantra and has multiple interpretations. The two I will employ may differ from that of other academics. They are as follows: 1. The first interpretation draws on an interview I conducted with DJ Eurok (2005), in which he suggests that the phrase refutes the idea that one must be of a particular background and upbringing to be authentic, and emphasizes instead that the real question is: ‘are you being true to your own experience?’ 2. The second interpretation poses the question: ‘are you in tune to the collective consciousness of Hiphop?’

One important aspect of this essay is my use of relevant terminology. While this may, at first, seem like an insignificant detail, how one should use the terms Hip-Hop and rap, in particular, has been the subject of considerable debate both inside and outside of academic circles, especially with regard to the topic of authenticity. In this discussion, the terms Hip-Hop and Hiphop (note capitalization) refer specifically to culture and ideology, respectively.⁴ The terms rap and hip-hop (note lack of capitalization) are not necessarily interchangeable, and will refer specifically to music that is created and performed by deejays (DJ’s), rappers and emcees. Although my writing will observe the belief that rap is performed and Hiphop is lived,⁵it seems counterproductive to insist on using only the term rap for discussions of music when it has become common to refer to hip-hop as music (EN2). Lastly, instead of changing the spelling of many relevant concepts, I will be using phonetically accurate terms such as emceein’, bboyin’, and rappin’ because I believe they accurately represent the linguistic roots of the culture. Although the authors and artists I will be citing use terms such as those I’ve just discussed in a variety of different ways, I will adhere to the conventions I have just described.

4. There is relative agreement that Hip-Hop/Hiphop (culture) is commonly expressed through a number of elements. While there is some disagreement over how many and which elements should be recognized, there seems to be universal recognition of deejayin’, bboyin’ (commonly referred to, in academic writing and in mass media, as break-dancing), bombin’ or taggin’ (also known as graffiti writing), and emceein’ (commonly confused with rappin’) as the four main artistic expressions of Hiphop culture. In addition, some have recognized consciousness as a fifth element. I contend that this fifth ideological element is one thing that has been missing from academic writing on Hiphop.