Stuck on Repeat

In light of the current debate surrounding Chance the Rapper’s performance at the College the idea of artistic freedom in conjunction with hip-hop has arisen in a big way. By telling Chance he cannot perform a certain song or say a certain word on our campus, are we not then limiting the very artistic freedom by which we pride ourselves, or is the censorship of Chance necessary in order to create a safe environment for all?

These “banned” songs and lyrics can instantly be streamed on Spotify or listened to on Youtube (you do not even have to log-in to prove you are 18). The material is already out there waiting for the world to listen to it, yet there is not a lot of dialogue in the general online discourse surrounding Chance that addresses his offensive lyrics. More than saying something about Chance, I think that this says something about hip-hop as a musical genre. For some reason hip-hop seems to be the baby brother in the music industry that gets away with everything.

Do not get me wrong; I love hip-hop. From the day I bought my first Eminem album to the time I saw Kanye perform for all of Seattle when I was 14, I have always loved hip-hop. Yet, a lot of the hip-hop I listen to does not necessarily spit rhymes full of respect for women or allow for success to be viewed outside of the realm of bitches and billfolds. Rap’s social message continues to perpetuate the heteronormative culture, with little room for artists or songs that do not fit this ideological mold.

We applaud Jay Z for having a smoking-hot wife and being one-half of the wealthiest couple in music industry, and yet his lyrics still contain violent and derogatory language. If Arcade Fire writes a lyric that says, “Fool me twice that’s my bad I can’t even blame her for that/Enough to make me wanna murder,” (Jay Z, “Holy Grail”) the music blogs would explode with an in-depth analysis of what message they’re trying to get across. However, when written by Jay Z, a lyric like this gets bumped at full volume in cars of twenty-somethings around the country without the blink of an eyelash.

As of late, the rap industry has become little by little more accepting.  Frank Ocean became the first out-of-the-closet rapper to win a Grammy. A$AP Rocky appeared on the cover of Complex magazine with his gay fashion-designer friend Jeremy Scott. Yet, some of the greatest rappers to come out of the last decade have not been scolded for their homophobic remarks. Rappers like 50 Cent, Ja Rule, T.I., and Tyler, the Creator have all either written homophobic lyrics or made homophobic comments, and in light of their fame (and swag), have gotten away with it.

So, if Chance the Rapper grew up listening to these rappers that for years got away with snide anti-gay remarks or the occasional misogynistic lyric — and we will assume he did because he is only 20, then he grew up thinking that in rap music this is okay. Hip-hop is a posse culture. Rappers have their ever-changing cast of characters behind them that is their crew. Artists take turns doing verses on each other’s tracks and the respect you need as a rapper to become successful is hard-fought.

So, here lies the problem. Rappers strive to get credit from other rappers to boost their career and often this credit is through offensive, yet catchy lyrics and a crazy flow. While few artists, like Macklemore, have made valiant efforts to subvert the social harm of their predecessors, the truth remains that our standards for social messages and violent language drop significantly when we talk about rap. Yes, rappers should have their artistic freedom, but we, as their listeners, should also hold them more accountable for their words.