Rap session - Letters - Letter to the Editor

BY THE THIRD INSTALLMENT ON THE HIP-Hop Economy in BLACK ENTERPRISE, I just knew that you'd be addressing the social and political implications of rap culture along with some of the adherents of the positive messages that are being presented. From its beginnings in Brooklyn and the Bronx back in the early 1970s, hip-hop culture has always been about resistance and social change. Early flows by the Sugarhill gang, Kurtis Blow, and Melle Mel were infused with inspiration and soul. Later rhymes from Chuck D and Public Enemy, KRS-1, and even the early N.W.A. addressed a harsh urban reality from a revolutionary, "we ain't havin' it" perspective.

As a business story, the struggle for control in the industry between the artists, the entrepreneurs, the financiers, and the corporations is interesting. But what is fascinating about hip-hop is the product itself and what it represents. As the different players struggle for control of the money, they also fight over the content of the message. To a great extent crass commercialization has won out and the music has fallen to its lowest common denominator.

At the same time, the true artistry remains embodied in the work presented by Jill Scott, the Fugees, Erykah Badu, D'Angelo, and others. These messages harken back to the voices of Gil Scott-Heron, Nina Simone and Curtis Mayfield. Where is the story on the emerging companies such as Hidden Beach Recordings, run by the talented visionary Steve McKeever? With a focus on artistic integrity, and an avoidance of the blatant excesses of an industry overburdened with sky-high fixed costs, Hidden Beach manages to present a model of what a sensible, meaningful soulful music company can be.

Spike [Lee] asked the tough questions in Bamboozled: Does mainstream acceptance depend on the stereotypical white definition of blackness? Must African American culture remain mired in images of promiscuity and criminality for white consumption?

In closing, I wonder how some of the artists and entertainment executives will feel when their precious little sons and daughters become the shorties that they so carelessly sing about and promote. I've been on Lennox, and Woodward, and Crenshaw, and State and Division. These songs and the life they portray ain't so damn pretty out'chere, y'all.

Stephen W. Jones Blessman Chicago, Illinois blessmans@yahoo.com

I JUST READ THE THIRD INSTALLMENT OF the Hip-Hop Economy series ["Music Masters," August 2002]. It was rather inspiring and led [me] to read the previous two installments [in the May and July 2002 issues]. I was shocked to turn to the Letters section of the August issue and see people being very judgmental and shortsighted about the artists covered and [critical of] BE for putting Damon Dash and Jay-Z on its cover.

Personally, I'm proud of the brothers making it happen and giving opportunities to those who would otherwise have none. I wonder how many urban youths are employed by those few people who have the audacity to say they will no longer read BE because of a picture on the cover. As a 25-year-old black woman pursuing a master's degree in business, who grew up struggling and relating to what these artists are talking about, I am proud that you did the article and [I am] encouraged that a magazine as prestigious as BE did not abandon young [people], but took notice of the positive things they are contributing. And don't worry, I'm sure the readers you have lost will be replaced by readers who are more respectful and perceptive of the total vision of BE.

LaLonnie N. Travenia Washington, D.C. jneoux@hotmail.com