The History of Hip Hop: The History of Hip Hop, #5

By Eric Reese

"Riding the Beats of the New Decade: The Hip Hop to Trap Voyage"

*** Author of "Rapper's Delight" essay currently archived at the Library of Congress ***
*** Guest speaker of BBC2 Radio "Rapper's Delight 40th Anniversary" by DJ Trevor Nelson - September 2019 ***

Join Eric Reese as he decodes the last decade of hip-hop in "The History of Hip Hop: Volume 5". The 2010s witnessed the genre's relentless surge, exploring new frontiers and cementing its place in the annals of global music.

Trace the journey from the lyrical prowess of Kendrick Lamar's Compton-inspired narratives to the hard-hitting trap anthems of Migos. Follow the emergence of powerful female voices, like Cardi B and Nicki Minaj, who shattered the glass ceiling in a male-dominated industry. Witness the rise of young mavericks, like Tyler, The Creator, who broke the mold with their creative audacity.

Beyond music, Reese expertly weaves the social, political, and cultural shifts that influenced and were shaped by hip-hop. The genre's growing activism, the influence of streaming services, and the advent of "SoundCloud rappers" are all explored in this deep-dive into the 2010s.

This essential guide provides insights on:

• The Streaming Revolution: Impact of Spotify, SoundCloud, and Tidal on hip-hop
• Social Consciousness: The role of hip-hop in movements like Black Lives Matter
• Gender Dynamics: The rise and influence of female artists in the genre
• Innovation & Diversity: The growth of sub-genres and fusion styles
• Hip-Hop Moguls: The entrepreneurial pursuits of artists like Jay-Z and Kanye West
• The Generation Z Influence: The arrival of young artists and their unique impact

"The History of Hip Hop: Volume 5" chronicles a time when hip-hop was not just a genre, but a mirror reflecting society's triumphs, struggles, and evolution. It was a decade that resonated with the rhythmic complexity of trap beats and the lyrical depth of conscious rap.

Experience the last decade of hip-hop in its unfiltered glory and discover the beats that made the world listen. Explore the rhythm of a decade that will resonate in the echoes of hip-hop for years to come.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eric Reese
• Release date: Feb 21, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201007270

Eric Reese

"Every book I write goes into uncharted territories others won't pen."   About me: I'm Eric Reese, born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. I've worked as a community organizer, educator, graphic design, human services and a number of other fields.  I'm the recipient of the first Mayoral Scholarship of Philadelphia (1993), the Philadelphia Federation of Teachers Human Relations Award (1989) and a few other awards and scholarships nationally and globally.  I've always had an interest in writing especially from the old-journal-in-the-morning days as many of my books today reflect my experiences here and abroad.  When I have time for myself, I love traveling, mediating and researching new marketing tactics. One of my weirdest experiences was when I once lived on a top roof in an apartment building in Beirut for a few weeks until I found somewhere to stay during the war in Afghanistan. Every night, I'd listen to BBC radio and hear the chaos while not be detected.  Some say that my lively and energetic character has made me many friends across the world. I really hope so; with many friends come many enemies. In the future, I'd love to own a large home somewhere in a quiet peaceful spacious area where my neighbors are not close but not far. Now I live wherever is called home at the time in hopes of achieving my goal one of these days. You can contact me at [e-mail]

Book preview

THE ‘HIP’ GOT US HERE TODAY

Can you dig it?

What is Hip? a hit song from 1973, had Oakland soul group, Tower of Power posed the issue. The band had a reputation for being wordsmiths, coining terminology like monkeypox to describe listeners who couldn’t start on the right foot. But, like poets before them, they found themselves on shaky ground with the Hip Question, attempting to describe soul, swing, and love. The words folded in on themselves. What is hipness? It is what it is! And hipness isn’t always what it appears to be!

This was a cunning put-on, produced for the benefit of the monkeypox, swaddled in foul horns and a backbeat. Hip is a term that everyone is familiar with.

Or, at the very least, everyone knows what it is when they see it. The Hip is consistent across the population for something subjective by definition. It’s Thelonious Monk’s beatitude at the piano or Lou Reed and the Velvet Underground’s stoic cruelty. They sang songs about drugs and sadomasochism as a projector flashed Andy Warhol’s films on their black turtlenecks. It’s the rat-a-tat tattoo of James Ellroy’s raised pulp fiction, or the flow of Jack Kerouac’s bop prosody or Lenny Bruce’s jazzed-up comedy. Karen O of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs is far too hip for her good. Walt Whitman was hip; Lord Buckley was hip. Miles Davis talked, dressed, played, and stood in a hip way, and Bob Dylan, following in his footsteps, did the same (though both men strayed into injudicious leather in the 1980s). The streets of Brooklyn’s Williamsburg and Los Angeles’ Silver Lake are like a hipster theme park. Dawn Powell or Kim Gordon, bassist in the downtown band Sonic Youth, have a knowing, raised an eyebrow in their gaze—suspicious but not unfriendly.

The Wolof verb hepi (to see) or hipi (to open one’s eyes) is thought to be the source of Hip, according to British linguist David Dalby. The Hip is a term of enlightenment cultivated by slaves from the West African countries of Senegal and the coastal Gambia. Enslaved people also brought the Wolof words dega (to comprehend), which became dig, and jev (to disparage or speak falsely), which became jive.

Hip begins as a subversive intelligence produced by outsiders under the watchful eye of insiders. It was one tool Africans devised to navigate an unfamiliar environment, as well as one legacy they left behind. The white imitation, co-optation, and homage feedback loop began almost immediately.

Hip explores the story of black and white America and the dance of tension and curiosity that ties them from their beginnings. Hip presents an alternate account of centuries of touch and emulation, of back-and-forth, in the past frequently defined by racial conflict. This line of reciprocal impact, which we rarely discuss, is one of the essential, life-giving arteries, not a decorative flourish on national identity. Though the border is often blurred in everyday life—through segregation, job discrimination, and the racial divide in any school cafeteria—it reappears in popular culture, where Americans assemble their imaginations of who they could be.

They have as much in common as their peers from what each would term the ancestral homeland while being born in radically different circumstances and separated by history. Both are classicists and bluesmen, masters of language and disobedient to the laws that would separate them. They all have one thing in common: they’re cool.

Hip embodies an American dream, for better or evil. At its best, it imagines pop culture’s racial flexibility as actual America, the one we aspire to be. As William Burroughs put it, Revolution in America begins in novels and music, then waits for political operators to effect change after the fact. At its worst, Hip glosses over actual divide and unfairness, as if the correct lingo and record collection can overcome the weight of racial history. White hipsters frequently claim the moral high ground by expressing an interest in black culture while offering nothing in return. When Quentin Tarantino uses the term nigger, he’s implying hipster closeness while also implying callous offense. That high ground is elsewhere. Hip Hop can be a self-serving catharsis from white liberal guilt, providing cultural reparations instead of severe reparations. This is white supremacy masquerading as gratitude. Neither of these hip conclusions is powerful enough to override the other. Hip serves two purposes: it is an ennobling force that conceals shame. It depicts a synthesis story during separation, and it is steeped in this paradox. It makes a living out of ambiguity and contradiction. Its flaws are frequently its assets.

Only a tiny percentage of the population is wholly committed to Hip at any one time; for the rest of us, work, school, family, rehab, or the alarm clock get in the way.

Nonetheless, we are all a part of the romance. It has an excellent Q rating. Hip pervades mainstream daily life at the level of language, music, literature, sex, fashion, ego, and commerce. Bill Clinton made a hip campaign appeal during the 1992 presidential campaign, wearing sunglasses and playing sax on The Arsenio Hall Show; Toni Morrison and Chris Rock christened him America’s first black president for his troubles.

(A decade later, Al Sharpton clarified the term, saying, There’s a distinction between being off-white and being black.)

The Hip should want something if it is a form of rebellion—or at least a display of revolution. Its desires are similar to America’s other appetite, which is for autonomy rather than wealth. It’s a commoner’s reach for rich people’s independence, the purest form of which is freedom from financial demands. It’s a leveler, available to both insiders and outsiders. Even if not everyone can, anyone can be hip. The Hip is an instant payoff in a country that does not believe in delayed gratification. You may require years of sacrifice to attain paradise or create a retirement fund, but Hip delivers its fruit immediately