Marketing street culture; bringing hip-hop style to the mainstream

American Demographics, Nov, 1996 by Marc Spiegler

Wimsatt, the Chicago hip-hop writer, sees the white parts of the "hip-hop nation" as a series of concentric attitudinal rings. At the center lie those who actually know blacks and study the intricacies of hip-hop's culture. "These people tend to consider themselves the racial exception," says Wimsatt. "They have a very regimented idea of what's cool and what's not."

Next is a group that has peripheral contact with the culture through friends or relatives, but doesn't actively seek "true hip-hopper" status. They go to shows, but don't rap, spray-paint, or breakdance. "After that, you have people who play hip-hop between other types of music," Wimsatt says. "They're sort of free-floating fans." Most white suburban teens probably fall into this category, listening to accessible acts such as Tribe called Quest and De La Soul.

Finally, the people in the outermost circle are those Wimsatt documented in a controversial 1993 article for hip-hop's Source magazine. Touring America, he met rural "wiggers" who avoided cities, thought blacks complained too much about their societal lot, and spouted phrases such as, "We wear a lot of pro-black clothes." To Wimsatt, such kids "are pure consumers--they're really into rap, but don't know much, so they're easily manipulated."

UNLOCKING THE DOOR

As hip-hop has made its mark on the mainstream, all but the most gullible fans have spotted a flurry of laughable bids to capitalize on the trend. Anybody with a drum machine and a rhyming dictionary, it seemed, could be presented as a true hip-hopper. "The history of semi-insiders trying to exploit hip-hop is an incredible comedy of errors," Wimsatt says. "I've seen so many commercials with some sort of hip-hop theme that are just transparent. You can almost see the creatives looking around the office and saying, 'Hmm... who do we know who's black and has a teenage cousin? Maybe that cousin raps...'" If you're trying to reach the hip-hop crowd, he says, take the time to find and hire legitimate hip-hop players. Good places to start tracking down insiders include record stores, music venues, and recording studies. National magazines such as Vibe, RapPages, and The Source may also mention local players on their pages.

Sprite evidently did its homework. For a series of NBA-game commercials, Coca-Cola Company (makers of Sprite) hired two of hip-hop's legendary "MCs," wordsmiths KRS-One and MC Shan. Even better, they had them face off in the sort of extemporaneous "freestyle battle" seen as any rapper's truest test of verbal skills and mental agility. The spot was roundly acclaimed, both inside and outside the rap world.

In the clothing arena, it's the same game. Mainstream designers such as Hilfiger and Lauren have scored. But smaller "underground" lines can also flourish in both city and suburb, says Misdom of Sputnik. "Even in places like [Minnesota's] Mall of America, you'll see kids who cress 'hip-hop' wearing grass-roots brands like Mecca, Boss Jeans, and Phat Farm," she says. "They are embracing these brands because they are seen as 'true.'"