Back Dat Azz Up to 1999

In 1999 I had identified as a fan and consumer of hip hop for almost two years. It was a lot of Bad Boy and No Limit, some of it bad, some of it good, and some great. In those days we had to buy plastic discs from stores, and so I own No Way Out, Harlem World, Life After Death, Ghetto D (which I used as research for a report on crack),



Unpredictable, Da Last Don, Da Game Is to Be Sold, Not to Be Told and Top Dogg.

I used Sky's the Limit for a poetry presentation in 7th grade. It was edgy at the time to introduce profanity in the classroom, especially as something as revered as poetry. It was also the most meaningful example of poetry in my own life so completely appropriate.



If pressed I can probably remember a handful of movies I watched and games I played in middle school, but it is hip hop I am constantly drawn back to, at least insofar as Bad Boy and No Limit are hip hop. According to This American Life feature on middle school, what we learn in those ages forms the foundation of who we are as adults. So while Marion Strok can still perform tap dances she learned as a middle schooler, I can recite the 10 Crack Commandments, a manual, a step-by-step booklet, for you to get to get your game on track, not your wig pushed back.

I begin to suspect that something was up with the 1999 release of "Back Dat Azz Up" by Juvenile. The lyrical content wasn't particularly dangerous or exciting, nor did it discuss any of the issues I knew concerned Black Americans like growing up in poverty, dead homies, or the flow of capital within crack production and distribution circles. The song is about asses. Asses are what the video should be about, not the song! Most offensive of all, the song employed a rhyme scheme--or more accurately did not--where each line ended with "yeah." It felt like the rap equivalent of reaching into ones coat and coming back with a middle finger.



Being a life-long hip hop fan is a lot like standing on a trap door: the knowledge that any given week a particularly egregious example of hip hop might hit, and undermine the fan's attraction to the whole genre. For me, Back Dat Azz Up was the first time. The song was such an earache I began to wonder, is it satire? Could this be a caricature of the music I loved?

It's already absurd for any middle class American white to listen to music of political and economic struggle, and so the tonal line is thin between hip hop music which mocks itself and its listener, or affirms its own worth. Allow me to explain this ambitious claim. In most art, the actual audience is usually the intended audience, and the thematic messages are likely to arrive safely. This safety gives the artist room to play with expectations, such as through satire. But when the actual audience is largely across a confusing cultural gap from the intended audience, as is the case with hip hop, playing with expectation becomes a volatile experiment (given that record executives know the majority of hip hop is purchased by young white suburbanites, intended audience probably deserves quote marks). The potential thematic takeaway by the audience may not be the intended one at all. To a degree all art has this same dynamic, and that's what makes it so fun and provoking. But this dynamic also impedes the communication between the sender and receiver, which is why the tonal line is so thin for hip hop.

What is the thematic takeaway of Back Dat Azz Up? The question itself is parody. The answer? Also parody. This is the problem of being a hip hop fan. The only space in which Back Dat Azz Up can be considered art is that Juvenile knew what he was doing. And so, the way a Christian believes in Christ, one must believe Juvenile knew what he was doing in the face of evidence he did not, or else redefine what hip hop is. I think that's what most people do.

In perceiving Back Dat Azz Up's failure I got a sense of how I might be the caricature, not the song; after all, I was listening to it. So in an ironic way, Back Dat Azz Up really redefines the genre. Its critique of the listener delivers the reminder that hip hop doesn't belong to or represent me. I might be a fan, but after Back Dat Azz Up I became a bit more conscientious of my role as a consumer and their roles as artists. What a sobering aural flip-off.

Drake's new album is good. In one of his songs he pays homage to how successful Juvenile's satire was. It feels less like "fuck you" and more like "ooh yeah." Both, somehow, are hip hop. Have a listen:

Being Das Racist: Harder Than We Think?

Here are three recent youtube videos showing the type of performance Das Racist is delivering on their Relax tour. If you love background rappers coming in on the last phrase of the line, each. and. every. line, then you love it. If you love people yelling into the device which amplifies their voice, then you love it. If you love weed so much you're smoking it during the performance, you love it. Don't be jealous reader, You can play from the comfort of your chair! In the following vidoes count the number of visible drinks on stage. Or, if you can count over a hundred, count the number of times lyrics become unintelligible messes from group delivery.







Doing some back-of-envelope calculations, it would seem they were drunk and high as shit. In an interlude between songs D. Brown complained about finishing Lukutis's drink, and in the middle of a song Victor (Kool AD) went backstage to procure another one. Also, Heems eyes looked like this the entire show:
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Throughout the ages, many artists have performed better while under the influence. Does Das Racist perform better under the influence? While I'm not looking for them to do cartwheels through rings of fire or anything, if the performances you just saw were improved by depressants I'm aghast at the thought of them performing during the day not high or drunk.

The least auditorily offensive of those three embeds is the last. I wish I could have gone to a show there instead of the one I did last night at the Branx/Rotture. I also wish last night wasn't the first time I'd been suckered. I went to the same show in April and it sucked too. We've got a saying in Oregon, I'm sure you have it in Williamsberg, goes like "Fool me once, shame on...you. ...Fuck Das Racist at the Branx/Rotture." This is hardly a scientific sample so I'm unsure how to weight the blame between their effortless performances or the improper audio setup. It sounded like "blahalhalowwwwohfaahmfahf ahflomorr woahoahwoahw" for 4 hours.

The music started a half hour late both times, though that's only relevant because it meant I spent an extra half hour standing alone by myself against a wall. For everyone in the underage area it meant more time to pass around the gatorade bottle'o'wonder, and for everyone in the bar area more time to drink PBR ironically. There are three possible explanations for the delays: Das Racist either shows up late to the venue, needs more time to get plastered--like the audience, or they are just being fashionable. All three = dedication.

The most insulting part of the performance was the continual sounding of what I can only call the "dj horn," heard at 1:36 in the following clip. Unbelievably, repeatedly sounding it at 100x amplification at the end of every song was an improvement, because in April an eagle screech was used that hurt even worse. Without any justification, this sonic "fuck you" was used intermittently during the songs as well as at their start and end. This is what my experience felt like.





Perhaps I have shitty cell phone ears. I wish I could have enjoyed any part of the show except for D. Brown's a capella, which is unfortunately about ejaculating in a person's eye. Your mileage may vary. It appears to me that they are reluctant stars riding the hipster train around the country and enjoying the chance to party every night. If so, then why are their lyrics so thoughtful, and why is their first studio release so polished? Relax is catchy and smart, irreverent and insightful. How come their performances are so bad?

I think the joke's on me. "Give us all your money." Is it satire?

God I Love Awkward

This is a perfect example of kids who are probably too studious to belong to the meta-narrative of "I Love College."



This video is clearly a project for school and unless that project was to record a 4 minute music video during a 10 minute break, someone's GPA is taking a hit. Protip: reshoot until at least one person is lip syncing.

I'm not sure how to take this. On one hand it looks like a response to "I Love College," highlighting how far-fetched or unrealistic that lifestyle is for them. Unrealistic because for various ethno-economic reasons, they go to a school that wears uniforms. They probably have parents who require good grades. They may even live at home. They also scatter when girls appear, whereas Asher Roth makes out with them. "I Love College" excludes them because they know that at one dollar(s) a slice they will exhaust their allowance, and that imprudent spending begets debt.

In a sentence, their video says "look at how stupid 'I Love College' looks from prep school." "I wished we taped it because then I would have documentary evidence of being at said party." One of them even brandishes a condom at 2:00. Hah hah son, put the condom away, you'll need that for masturbating. Given that at least 100% more people in this video will graduate college than in Asher Roth's video, it reveals "I Love Collage" to be a juvenile, short-sighted creedo. And they are correct.

On the other hand, this analysis assumes their awkwardness and failure to deliver on even the most pizza-based lyrics is intentional, which is hard to accept. To think any of these kids danced their asses off last night and had this one girl completely naked you would have to be blind. One conspicuous student is wearing a helmet in their school's hallway and that is likely the craziest thing he's ever done; hopefully his parents won't find out.

They seem to be having fun, so maybe they like "I Love College." Bros stick around for their bros to come down the slide, ya know? Given that there's not a single head-bob in sync during the 4 minute video they need the "I Love College" ethic more than anyone. If they do indeed wish they could get the equally awkward girls at their school drunk, then this is not satire, it is an homage. It's a dress-up. It says "hey, look, we could be cool guys, just get drunk and smoke some weed first, please." It says, "I love college, not for it's rigorous engineering program but it's opportunities to play a dexterity based drinking game called beer pong," or "I love drinking debauchery because it has reliable rules like don't pass out with your shoes on and don't have sex if she's too gone. And ladies, I follow such rules."

Who knows, maybe when they go to college they'll uninstall Minecraft and wear sunglasses to house parties. Or perhaps their parents instilled work ethics instead of entitlement. I prefer to imagine they're celebrating not fitting the meta-narrative mold, because that means passing out at 3 will be in the library, and doing it again at 10 will help change the world. We can't be sure. The semiological meaning of various scenes leave me baffled.

Their idea of hazing a freshman (denoted by glasses, which is what nerds look like to kids wearing uniforms) is running up to him and repeatedly patting him down. What are they searching for, weed? Pogs?

There's a scene where they coolly open a locker, and proceed to stomp the living shit out of the notebooks that fall out. What is the object of your hate? Is it the nearness of the locker to the floor and the propensity of books to fall out of it? Or is it the books themselves? If that isn't a strong epistemological vote for "I Love College" then I don't know what is.

I also noticed the hilarious scene on the playground where Asher Roth says "you know what's going down," and visually before us is a slide. Is it satire?

I Love Party by Asher Roth

Pretty sure this is what Plato envisioned when he started the academy:



Asher Roth has never been out of the G8. "I Love College" is a catchy tune we can all relate to, having been induced to debauch our college experience by songs like, "I Love College." Is it just a party anthem, or also a satire of that inescapable cultural narrative therein?

Why D. Willz be actin' silly

If I were to try and attack contemporary popular hip hop it would be for the the gayness with which it celebrates materialism, the brash presentation of male sexuality, the audacious facade of self-esteem with the paradoxical lack of self-reflection, and the complete absence of effort linguistically or poetically.

So if I wrote a parody it might:
1)Show poor conditions from which no one is thinking about yachts, like a farm of (possibly) migrant workers.
2)Make it contain absurd references to sex, although making them any more absurd than they already are would be challenging. Comparisons to food and animals maybe?
3)Show no attempt to use real words or rhyme scheme. Like every line should end in "ey" or "ly."
4)And I'd probably make it about watermelon, because I'm a racist.

Behold:

I did not make this video. But undoubtedly it's everything that's wrong with hip hop rolled into a 3 minute video package. It's catchy, but is it also satire?