"Let's talk about time travelin', rhyme javelin, somethin' mind unravelin'..."

What up hip hop heads! I have a small confession. When I started writing these blogs, I simply wanted to talk hip-hop with those who felt as passionately for the craft as I did. I started to put unnecessary pressure on myself to “cater to my audience” because this is strictly a hip-hop blog so we gotta talk strictly hip-hop, right?

Yes this is a hip-hop blog, but I can't sit here and lie to you – I'm just now getting back into the realm of hip-hop music because for a while, I was sick of it. Sick of rap music. Sick of the images and stereotypes. All rap started to sound the same to me – from the topics to the beats. It was boring and predictable. It became so commercialized, it was more about the total package than the total product. It wasn't the same genre I fell in love with in the mid-late 90s. So, in search of something that could quench my musical thirst, I started looking outside of hip-hop and R&B (because let's face it, Rhythm and Blues is lost too!). I bugged family, my girlfriend and friends alike to put me onto something new. Anything but rap. What I was introduced to was the wonderful world of indie rock music.

If hip-hop is my first love, you can call indie rock my “bad bitch on the side” (bitch used in a good way, let's not get sensitive). This was everything I was looking for...poetic lyricism, diverse subject matter, raw emotion and gut feelings, melodies easy to digest and sing along to - but not of kindergarten simplicity....and most of all – a rebellious nature that would attract any young spirit looking for substance.

My search began with John Mayer, who of course, is not an independent artist – but did open the door for many singers who followed after him: Jason Mraz, Gavin DeGraw, Jack Johnson and Marc Broussard, to name a few.  

This then lead me to groups like Kings of Leon, Paramore, 30 Seconds to Mars, One Republic, Angels and Airwaves, Breaking Benjamin, A Change of Pace, Honor Society and Ben Folds (shout out to Salle and Kasey). All of these artists delivered their messages with as much passion as the hip-hop/r&b/soul artists I grew up listening to. Caleb Followill from Kings of Leon has so much soul and raspyness to his voice, you would swear he was inspired by Otis Redding. When I heard Marc Broussard's “Home” for the first time, I thought it was a black dude who was influenced by Donny Hathaway. The dude is dope! 
 

Although listening to these artists gave me a renewed sense of assurance that real music wasn't dead, I was still feeling conflicted with just what this would mean for me and my marriage with hip-hop. Is it me? Have we grown apart? Have I changed? These were difficult terms to come to grips with. It's like our facebook relationship status was “complicated”.

I'm also an artist and producer so it was evident how much indie rock was starting to influence me and my style. Sampling is the basis of my whole creative process...I went from sampling 70s soul artists like Main Ingredient, Barry White, and Curtis Mayfield to finding anything with a crazy guitar riff just because that was what I was feeling at the time. This lead me to bands like Journey, Boston, Styx, Reo Speedwagon, Fleetwood Mac, Jethro Tull and Dream Theater. Of course I understand that clearing these samples is next to impossible - but it opened up my imagination, creatively. It gave me more to sink my teeth into. Mainstream rap had me reading at a 5th grade level, and I had stumbled upon Shakespeare.

And just as I was about to call it quits with hip-hop, I came across a little album called As Cruel As School Children by a group called Gym Class Heroes. What set them apart was that while they were a rock band, at heart: a lead guitarist, a bassist, a drummer and lead vocalist in addition to alternative/rock-style beats - their lead vocalist Travis McCoy (who is also a singer) rapped throughout the entire project. Lyrically, his skill is questionable at times – hip-hop purists might not dig him - but to me, he had enough personality and charisma to make up for his lack of technique. I liked him the same way I liked Missy Elliot. It was refreshing to hear rap over a different style of beat. It was equally as refreshing to hear a different story told. After all it's not what you say, but how you say it.   

This made me realize my problem with rap in the first place - I needed a different story. Don't get it twisted, I love a good “rags to riches” tale - that is hip-hop in its purist form: turning nothing into something. But there comes a time when another story has to be told in addition to. We're not all thugs. We're not all swagged out. We're not all pro-black. We're not all gangsta. We're not all icy. Not that there's anything wrong with these archetypes, but I was tired of listening to rap's version of Scarface over and over again. At some point you gotta throw in a comedy. Or a documentary. Or science fiction. Or an action. Anything! You can't play Scarface...then Goodfellas...then Casino...then Godfather Part I...then Godfather Part II...and so forth. It gets old.  Key word here is: balance. 

I say all this to say – maybe rap can take notes from indie rock in that sense. Let's try to expand our subject matter. Or at least if you're gonna talk about something cliché, deliver it in a way that hasn't been done before. Jay-Z's Reasonable Doubt is not a classic because of its concept. Reasonable Doubt is a classic because of the way he delivered this concept. It was intelligent. It was humorous. It had double meanings. It was dynamic. It was witty. It was entertaining. Let's study our craft correctly.  The only way we can take hip-hop further is if we stop being afraid to take hip-hop further. Dare to be different. Is that too much to ask for?