For Myself & Others: VH1 Hip-Hop Honors
By Bomani Jones
Last week, VH1 debuted ‘And You Don’t Stop,’ a five-part documentary series on the first 30 years of hip-hop that served as promotion for Tuesday’s ‘Hip-Hop Honors’ awards show. The series is great; an interesting, revealing, and honest look at the beginning of what has proven to be a cultural revolution.Curious how far hip-hop has come? Consider that VH1, a network conceived as the baby boomers’ alternative to its sister network, MTV, is only a few years removed from removing rap verses from popular R&B records (TLC’s ‘Waterfalls’ is an example). Now, VH1’s playlists include hip-hop, rappers are frequently the subjects of ‘Behind the Music’ episodes, and they’ve taken a week to analyze the rise of hip-hop culture.
Things done changed.
While watching the series, the following five points struck me, each giving reason to take a closer look at how the game was, and is, perceived.
1. Run-DMC was everything they’ve been made to be.But who’s to say viewers wanted to see more than that quarter hour?It appears to have been lost on many why Run-DMC has been deified. Their production now seems antiquated, and the influence of their flow isn’t that easy to spot (the most influential figure in pace and meter has been Rakim), but their brilliance and star power are staggering. ‘And You Don’t Stop’did a fantastic job of showing how impressive Run, D-Mac, and Jay were from top to bottom. In equally striking parts, Run-DMC was lyrically superb, commercially savvy, and ultra-magnetically and charismatically gangster. The prototypical power rapper, Run’s flow was effortlessly intense while DMC was his perfect complement, more chilled-out but nearly as good. Elements of rock — most notably the electric guitar — became a brilliant vehicle used to ride into the ears of listeners that may have found hip-hop too foreign from their tastes (read: white teenagers), and they rode it without selling out. And their visual presence, whether sporting those fire maroon Def Jam sweat suits or their trademark leather blazers and Stetson hats, were the look of the streets at the time, allowing them to exude a credibility that has become lost on most who weren’t around during that era.
They was the synthesis of elements that the new era of emcees and execs yearn to combine in one package. But unlike most rappers on TV today, they pulled it off and seemed natural in the process. That is why many consider Run-DMC to be the greatest rap group of all-time. While that’s up for debate, what’s unquestionable is that they are the most important unit hip-hop has seen, the one that gave a glimpse of how far rap music could go.
VH1 would not have made this series were it not for ‘Walk This Way.’ That point was clearly not lost on producers, who gave Run-DMC more face time than any individual act. It’s a good thing they did, because many have forgotten why they earned that shine.
2. Little is as wonderful as watching a 16-year-old in love with hip-hop.
In this case, that 16-year-old is LL Cool J. Were an emcee divinely carved from granite, it would be that young LL, bounding with energy and charisma and blessed with a voice, flow, and presence that are hard to find. Seeing him the way Russell Simmons introduced him to the world is like watching the clips of LeBron James in high school. The film captures greatness in its embryonic state, and it’s clear L loves every minute on the mic. It feels like an eternity has passed since he couldn’t live without his radio, but watching footage of him bouncing up and down while performing an early version of ‘Rock the Bells’ is enough to make you want to start free-styling in your living room.
Unfortunately, it’s also enough to make you wish he’d never made ‘I Need Love,’ the record that let him know he could make a mint off the sucker-for-love anthems that he’s bombarded the world with for the last few years.
3.Ice-T is way smarter than most give him credit for being.
Before anything else, Ice-T is out to get paid. He is the consummate hustler, but the reason he’s been able to make that money is because his mind is incredibly sharp. His ability to break down nearly every issue in terms that a given audience can understand is a rare talent, and it comes through in his turns on this documentary. It also came through on the mic, a skill he’s neglected for the last decade for the greener — and less stressful — pastures of the screen. Ice is a helluva emcee, even if he’s just talking about rap.
4. Materialism has always been a big part of the game.
Thought those rope chains were just about fashion? They were the flossy precursor to the platinum chain, and that was a cogent point made in ‘And You Don’t Stop.’ One mistake critics of today’s hip-hop — particularly those who yearn for the old days – commit is blaming the currently lackluster state of affairs on an emphasis on money and the trinkets that come with it. The game’s always been full of conspicuous consumption, whether it was reflected by those necklaces, EPMD standing in front of a Benz and a “Beamer” for an album cover, or Big Bank Hank talking about his Lincoln Continental and Cadillac. Hell, his name is Big Bank Hank.
If materialism were going to cripple hip-hop, it would have been Tiny Tim from the get green. The fascination with money is an easy place to point when looking at what’s wrong with hip-hop, but that’s nothing new. That flossing has become a bigger deal is an issue, but correcting that would require looking at why looking “rich” was important in the first place.
5. Too many of us are too forgiving of the genre’s problems.
This includes the makers of this documentary, who lumped its look at Eminem and its discussion of women’s role in hip-hop into its final segment, ‘Hip-Hop America.’ What started as a look at how hip-hop reached areas between the coasts became a hodgepodge of everything they couldn’t squeeze into the chronology of the first four segments. So, after spending about 15 minutes talking about southern hip-hop and 15 minutes on Em (while mentioning little about his being from the Midwest), a few other issues came up, including a discussion on the hell women have as rappers and the misogynist image rap music can’t shake.
It’s unfair to call hip-hop as a whole misogynist because that implies it’s more misogynist than the public en masse, and that hasn’t been proven adequately. However, few commentators offered anything more than cliché defenses for much of what is often inexcusable. Maybe that’s all they could cull from those they interviewed, but if Eminem is worth 15 minutes by himself, issues of gender should have received more attention.
After watching ‘And You Don’t Stop,’ there were more things to consider than those five. The proof that the series was worth five hours — and 30 bucks, if it’s issued on DVD — is that it gives motivation for thought after the credits have run.
And when it comes to hip-hop today, there’s a lot to talk about. The best place from which to start may be the beginning.
October 14, 2004