Hobbes
Thursday, January 12th, 2006, 10:57 AM
Anybody in here ever read Ralph Wiley?
http://espn.go.com/page2/s/wiley/021111.html
Some excerpts:
"Or it can be a solo audience of Dr. Dre, who gets demos from all over, with vocal "contenders" literally begging for the famous producer's dispensation of their happiness. Dre understands that rhythm, "beats," are the bottom line of all this social madness -- he picks Marshall Bruce Mathers, aka Eminem, to be his signature artist, his champion, in the wide wake of Tupac Shakur (I'm no real deep expert on hip-hop, but I kind of understand social madness and like music, and am nearly certain I understand lyrics.
Example: There's no comparing Biggie to Tupac, not without intimidation from the Biggie crowd -- all of P.Diddy's underlying tracks are just bites, Herb Albert's "Rise," or Diana Ross' "I'm Coming Out," Biggie's house-music, buttery-Jamaican voice overlaid; Tupac, on the other hand, along with Dr. Dre, formed original beats and tracks, and lyrically, he described an entire universe, not just one inhabited by Cristal, crack and 'hos. Ever heard, "I Ain't Mad At You"? You should. And who hasn't bounced along to the less reflective but joyful "California Love"?)"
"The commodification of hip-hop (or any potentially artistic form, like hoop, say, or film itself) is not new, nor limited to Eminem, or other white performers. Ja Rule, for example, came in the void left by Tupac's death. Anyone who has heard both knows Rule was inspired by Tupac, got in with Jay-Z because of a rasping vocal similarity to Tupac -- even though he does not have the facility or the lyrical ability of Tupac. In that sense, Ja Rule is McDonald's -- he is and will be commercially successful, a lot of people will eat up his stuff, but it is not as nourishing as a home-cooked meal by any stretch; it is pop art, and not the same kind of authentic folk art as, say, a tureen of homemade New Orleans gumbo."
"But the great skill, personified by Eminem in the final frames, closes the show, literally and figuratively. The example of his rapping skill in the movie is tight enough. But check out this lyric from "Cleaning Out My Closet," off "The Eminem Show" CD, which could be seen as a partial anthem for "8 Mile:"
... now I would never diss my own mama just to get recognition take a second to listen fool you think this record is dissing but put yourself in my position just try to envision witnessing your mama popping prescription pills in the kitchen bitching that someone's always going through her purse and s***'s missing going through public housing systems victim of Munchausen's syndrome my whole life I was made to believe I was sick when I wasn't till I grew up now I blew up it makes you sick to your stomach doesn't it wasn't it the reason you made that CD for me, Ma, so you could try to justify the way you treated me, Ma, but guess what you're getting older now and it's cold when you're lonely and Nathan's growing up so quick he's gonna know that you're phony and Hayley's getting so big now you should see her she's beautiful but you'll never see her she won't even be at your funeral! See what hurts me the most you won't admit you was wrong bitch do your song keep telling yourself that you was a mom but how dare you try to take what you didn't help me to get you selfish bitch I hope you f****** burn in hell for this s***! Remember when Ronnie died and you said you wished it was me well guess what I am dead, dead to you as can be ... I'm sorry Mama ... I never meant to hurt you ... I never meant to make you cry but tonight I'm cleaning out my closet ..."
Eminem runs it all down in under 75 seconds, in such a facile way that, in spite of the fingernails-on-blackboard harshness of what he says, I defy you not to yo-yo your head along with him."