“LOUDER THAN A BOMB”: It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back in ‘09 by Jen McLaughlin

More hip hop contemplation from our newest contributor.

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Public Enemy serves as evidence as hard as the asphalt of the Long Island streets in ‘86 for the pervasion of hip-hop in today’s culture, as well as the music’s ability to transcend time, race, economic and political standing.  And what could serve as a better example than their breakout album It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back?  Exhibit A: Public Domain’s “Operation Blade,” an eight-and-a-half minute techno odyssey that hit European dance charts hard in 2000.  This song features, and is constructed around, a sample taken from the beginning of Public Enemy’s “Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos,” when Flav introduces the group to the audience and kicks it off to Chuck D with the line, “Bass for your face, London!”  This is not, perhaps, the most obvious example of Public Enemy’s influence on music in the new millennium, as their sounds are used as samples for numerous hip-hop songs; however, this instance of Public Enemy’s leaking, or, rather, bursting through the mainstream and flooding into such varied genres of music is probably just what they were going for.

It’s a well-known fact that Public Enemy has a lot to say on the political front.  Whether Chuck D is addressing the issue of white oppression, the apparently unnoticed hardships of the streets (perpetuated not only by that white power, but even by the brothers themselves; check “Night of the Living Baseheads”: “Shame on a brother when he dealin’…From a corner from a brother to keep another below”) or even the question of the legality of utilizing samples for tracks, Public Enemy is gonna make sure that their message gets across.  To everyone.  With its solid drum beats, Chuck D’s unmistakable voice, velvety-smooth yet rough enough to hit your ears and leave ‘em ringing, Flav’s hyping yells, and often strident samples (“Rebel Without A Pause”…’nuff said), Nation of Millions refuses to be ignored.  Lyrics and messages aside, this album is LOUD.  Public Enemy knew just what they were doing—people are forced to hear them, even if they don’t want to listen.

Apparently, the media didn’t want Public Enemy to rock the populous, as Chuck D points out with, “Radio/Suckers never play me/On the mix, just O.K. me.”  Luckily, the boys of PE found a way to reach people regardless by using a crazy variety of samples to bolster their rhymes.  This album stands as a true synthesis of great music, brought together to create even more great music.  Even if an upper-middle class white kid in 2009 picks up this CD, he’s gonna be able to find something on it to relate to or recognize musically.  Maybe this kid won’t understand or know about the politically charged aspects of Public Enemy’s music, but Nation of Millions is socially conscious enough to know how to reach out in other ways.  It then promotes understanding and knowledge after the initial dive into this hardcore political hip-hop.  It’s important to see this and tip your hat to PE for pulling it off.

The genius of Public Enemy’s use of so many samples—such as “Angel of Death” by Slayer, “(You Gotta) Fight for Your Right (to Party)” by the Beastie Boys, and “Funky Drummer” by James Brown—is that every sample used not only comes together in a perfectly cohesive sound, but also stands to bolster the messages in every song. Twenty years down the road, Public Enemy’s music still appears on its own and in samples for newer songs.  It’s clearly influenced the use of samples in hip-hop and other types of music on a larger scale.  In 2009, we’ve seen the mash-up generation steadily gaining steam (think Girl Talk, Super Mash Bros., N.A.S.A.), undoubtedly sparked by Nation’s ability to mishmash hip-hop with metal, rock, funk, and even speeches and quotes.  PE’s Nation of Millions, with its library of samples that rivals those of most club DJs these days, paved the way for artists who know what beats get people moving and listening.  The most important part is that they taught us to do this together by using things that speak to people from any walk of life.  Then they drop the bombs.

"Fucking Crazy: The Best Rapper Alive is White" by Jen McLaughlin

MZ is proud to present our first submission from somebody besides Joey. Introducing Jen McLaughlin...

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I recently talked with a mixed-race friend of mine.  We shot the shit, classes came up and I told him about Hip-Hop Journalism.  He then proceeded to tell me that he had taken a similar class—and had chosen to write his final paper on “why white suburban kids love hip-hop.”  Fitting the bill of his subject so precisely made me feel a bit vulnerable.  I voiced this to a fellow white hip-hop lover at lunch recently, to which the waspy Texan quickly responded, “The same reason we love Mafia movies.”

I have to admit I see his point.  I identify as an (Irish-)Italian.  Some of my distant cousins and uncles are indeed mobsters, but I don’t see Mafia movies as my own direct culture.  I’m not running drugs, bookie operations, or giving people the cement shoes.  I’m the generic white girl just trying to get by in school to a soundtrack of face-melting metal, indie prog-rock, and hip-hop music I can’t live without.

Still, I can’t help but question what right I have to listen to, to love hip-hop.  Middle-class, white, college kid.  I suppose the rights I have to hip-hop are the same as those I claim to metal: I feel its anger and it soothes my own (though they may stem from very different sources), and I simply love the music.  The beats.  The way the words pour out over the samples with such ease, the sneering, rolling cleverness that makes you wish you had the authority, the words, the wit to pull it off yourself.  I find solace in my favorite rapper—my music collection currently sports about 800 songs rapped, featuring, or produced by him—who just so happens to be white as well.

Eminem was voted the best rapper alive by a poll run in Vibe magazine in 2008.  

He hadn’t released any major albums since 2004’s Encore, and was certainly not in the spotlight as much as the biggest music slut out there, Lil’ Wayne, or Jay-Z, the on-again off-again rap retiree.  So how did Em pull it off?  What is it about him that keeps his fans patiently waiting for the next track he’ll explode on?

Let’s take into account that he’s white.  He put it all on the table with “White America,” letting everyone know that the blue-eyed, blonde white kids were eating his shit up because he “looked like them,” but not necessarily because they had similar upbringings.  Though white is considered a majority in America, I doubt that the white kids were ballot-stuffing the Vibe poll.  It’s simply not that kind of publication.  I have to trust that the audience would be more balanced because the hip-hop audience itself is so widespread.

Eminem’s greatness stems from the simple fact that the dude is a genius.  Upon asking a buddy of mine what he thought of Em, he replied, “…he’s funny,” and shrugged.  Sure, he’s funny.  He loves irony.  He loves causing a scene and shocking people with his songs because that’s what his whole career has been about.  Let’s face it, the odds weren’t with him from the beginning: a bleached-blonde white kid trying to make it in the rap game.  He knew it, he knew he could make it, and he wanted to say a big “fuck you” to the haters.  His newer stuff is hot (The Eminem Show is still one of my favorite albums), but take a minute to listen to his old shit, his freestyles.  The latter is the ultimate testament to his talent.

How the hell can a high school dropout come up with this stuff off the top of his head?  The vocabulary, the style and flow, the metaphors, Eminem has it all.  It doesn’t matter that he’s white.  He’s proven that with his success and the respect he’s gained from his Black rapping counterparts.  Em has completely broken every rap barrier.  So the next time you hear Lil’ Wayne, or anyone else, claim he’s the “best rapper alive,” think of Eminem, whose fans gave him the title he’d never claim for himself.  Yeah, he’ll diss the guys who give him shit, but take his response to the award: “I don't think that there is any one rapper that is simply the best [though].  Everyone who was in consideration and many others are the best at certain things, and at what they do.”  Slim Shady?  A modest, talented genius?

I’m in love.