Kyle “Guante” Tran Myhre
Cast:
• Hater Jones, 21, hater
• Professor Uplift, 56, Black Studies professor
• Colin Pennyworth, 27, hipster music journalist
• Stanley Johnson, 19, Eminem fan
• Eddie Kay, 22, hip-hop head
Scene:
Cafeteria at a community college—late afternoon, nearly all of the lunch traffic has passed; Professor Uplift and Colin Pennyworth walk by, glancing over to a lunch table at a freestyle cypher in progress.
Hater Jones: (beatboxing)
Eddie Kay: (rapping, in progress) … you know the spit stay vicious, the kid is, flippin’ by the minute / g’d up like G-Dep spittin’ “let’s get it.”
Stanley Johnson: (rapping) Yeah, let’s get it, you better call the medics / I leave your abdomen sliced open with intestines / fallin’ out, callin’ out all these fake lames / usin’ your appendix as a hand grenade … (sees Uplift and Pennyworth and stops) You wanna join the cypher?
Colin Pennyworth: (laughs) No, no. I was just interviewing the professor here for an article I’m writing about hip hop. He said he sees you three in here almost every day and thinks you might be good interview subjects too.
Eddie Kay: Oh yeah? What’s the article about?
Colin Pennyworth: It’s mostly about the record industry, and how people aren’t really buying CDs anymore. The timely element is that it’ll be published right around the time Eminem’s new album drops, and I’m kind of using that as a lens through which we can—
Hater Jones: (loudly interrupting) Ayo, does the universe really need another article about Eminem?
Professor Uplift: (chuckles)
Colin Pennyworth: Why do you say that?
Stanley Johnson: Because he’s a hater, that’s why.
Hater Jones: Naw, naw. I’m just the only one left who can see that the emperor ain’t got no clothes on. I just see through the shtick. I’m not gonna say he’s not talented, but I am gonna say he started out as overrated and devolved into audio vomit faster than a crappy Yelawolf double-time verse; he’s been coasting ever since “Lose Yourself” dropped. Now he’s all weird voices and melodramatic pop bullshit, and I just cannot fathom why people keep buying his records and writing articles about him.
Stanley Johnson: (rolls eyes) Maybe it’s because he’s the best songwriter in hip hop? Maybe it’s because he writes songs that show his actual emotions and isn’t just talking about bitches and cars and money? Maybe it’s because he’s a flat-out better rapper than anyone else ever? Maybe it’s because the level of thought he puts into—
Professor Uplift: Or maybe it’s because he’s white? Let’s not ignore the elephant in the room here.
Stanley Johnson: So why isn’t Cage world famous? Or Eyedea? Or Asher Roth? Race has nothing to do with it.
Eddie Kay: Whoa there, fam. Of course race has something to do with it. But in his defense, you also can’t deny Em’s pure technical ability. I mean, artists like Pharaohe Monch and Tech N9ne and them have been doing microphone acrobatics for years, but there’s not really anyone out there who sounds like Em, who makes it look so effortless. Even on his later stuff, which I agree has its problems, he’s out-rhyming the devil in there, just mad syllable chains and mind-blowing flow patterns and all that.
Professor Uplift: But you said it yourself—other artists, black artists, have been doing what he does for years. He jumps in with his own amateur take on something someone else built and is propped up as the messiah. He sells a whitewashed version of black culture to white children, and in the process becomes the most celebrated and successful hip-hop artist in history. The Elvis comparison may be an easy one, but it’s only easy because it’s so accurate.
Hater Jones: Exactly. Eminem makes music for white trash pre-teens who think fart jokes are hilarious and drugs are edgy. It’s some lowest-common-denominator shit, and that will always make you famous in America.
Stanley Johnson: (scoffs) Did either of you ever even listen to “Stan,” or “Cleanin’ Out My Closet,” or “Hailie’s Song,” or “Love the Way You Lie,” or—
Hater Jones (interrupting): Oh you mean the song where he got Rihanna to sing a hook about refusing to leave an abusive relationship? Yeah, that’s deep, man.
Stanley Johnson: It is deep. The song is about breaking the cycle, about how hard it is to—
Hater Jones: He’s just chasing clicks, homie. Trying to remain relevant because everybody knows his skills just ain’t there no more. Maybe that’s why he SHOUTS all his LYRICS now—he’s getting desperate, on some “I’M NOT AFRAID”—
Eddie Kay: (laughing) What about you, Mr. Music Writer? What do you think about Eminem?
Colin Pennyworth: I don’t know. I guess for me, it’s about angles. You can always find something to say about him. Yeah, you can write about the novelty of a white rapper, but you can also write about the Dr. Dre cosign, or the shockingly offensive lyrics, or the untouchable skillset, or all the high-profile beefs. For a music writer, he’s really the gift that keeps on giving.
Eddie Kay: And that’s the problem for me. Like I said, I like Em; I think he has crazy talent. But who out there is actually writing about talent? Y’all pick up some narrative or angle and run with it, but no one seems to care about the actual music any more.
Hater Jones: Exactly. It’s funny that Em beefed with Canibus, because if Eminem were black, he’d be Canibus. Another technically proficient weirdo underground rapper. “But he’s white, and Dr. Dre likes him, so here’s your GOAT,” says the media.
Professor Uplift: Here’s your goat?
Eddie Kay: Greatest of All Time. And for the record, I think he’s in the conversation, extracurriculars aside. Just on pure skills alone. Top ten at least, maybe cracking the top five—
Stanley Johnson: Man, he is the conversation. Who else is even on that same plane of existence? You can really name five MCs better than Em?
(all at once):
Eddie Kay: Rakim, Jay, Big L, Big Pun, Nas.
Hater Jones: Jay, Biggie, Pac, KRS, Andre from Outkast.
Professor Uplift: Chuck D, Rakim, Tupac, KRS-One, Nas.
Stanley Johnson: You’re all crazy. Ain’t none of them seeing Em, bar for bar.
Colin Pennyworth: As someone who isn’t as well versed in rap, I’m inclined to agree. Just to my ears, he’s doing something that’s wildly different. Listening to some of these old-school guys these days is like watching a black-and-white TV after visiting the IMAX theater.
Professor Uplift: But there it is. “As someone who isn’t as well-versed in rap.” You’re Mathers’s target audience. He appropriates black culture, performs his rhymes without the polyrhythmic “swing” of his more culturally attuned peers, subverts and ridicules black masculinity, and all but spits on hip hop’s history as a tool of uplift for black and brown peoples, all while—
Eddie Kay: Hey, hey now. A tool of uplift? You ever actually listen to the lyrics to “Rapper’s Delight?” Or any old-school shit beyond “The Message” and “The Breaks?” My dad is from NY and he has a box full of tapes from that era; I’ve listened to them all. Rap used to be about having fun and showing off your skills. Sure, the existence of the art itself may have been implicitly political and may have served as a tool of uplift, but I think it’s a misrepresentation of history to imply that this was all some conscious master plan. In that sense, I think Em is paying homage to the culture’s origins, even if I don’t agree with his sexism or homophobia or shock-for-shock’s-sake lyrics, he’s killing it with the flows. He’s showcasing his talent. He’s having fun making words rhyme, and I respect that.
Hater Jones: But is that enough? I mean, it rips me up inside to admit this, but yeah, the kid can spit. But so can Myka 9. So can Pharaohe. So can Gift of Gab. So can a million other MCs none of us have ever heard of. Em may have talent, but he’s never been famous because of his talent, let’s be honest.
Colin Pennyworth: So why is he so famous?
Hater Jones: Because people like you keep shoving him down our throats instead of writing about any of the million other talented MCs in this country.
Colin Pennyworth: (taken aback) … but, I mean, I’m just giving our readers what they want. He’s famous because people like him—that’s what talent is, right? Making music that people like? It’s not like we’ve picked some nerdy underdog white backpacker super-scientifical MC to get everyone to jump on his bandwagon. It’s not my fault he’s white, and even my black friends think….
Eddie Kay: (interrupting) Okay, okay, we get it, relax. Let me answer your question another way. Let’s think back to when the Slim Shady LP dropped. It was 1999, post–Telecommunications Act, when mainstream hip hop was at its most hedonistically blinged-out and capitalistic and underground hip hop was at its most grimy and challenging. You got Nelly, Ja Rule, DMX, and Jay-Z on one side, and then you got the Roots, Mos Def, Company Flow, and dead prez on the other. And then you turn on the TV and it’s the video for “My Name Is.” And this shit just didn’t make any sense. It didn’t really belong anywhere. This wasn’t just a white guy rapping. It wasn’t just a white guy rapping well. It wasn’t just a white guy rapping well with Dr. Dre in his video. That song was weird. To this day, “My Name Is” is a weird-ass song that doesn’t sound like anything else out there. It got play on alternative rock stations—
Professor Uplift: (coughing) WHITENESS!
Eddie Kay: Yeah, you’re right, but it’s not just about whiteness. In the same way that it’s not just about talent. Either of those things may be the main ingredient in a given context, but you can’t make chili with nothing but beans. That song—and that album—blew up because of its novelty. And I mean novelty not like a gimmick, like “look at this whiteboy with the funny voice rapping about crazy shit,” but as in something novel, something new and different and, for a lot of people, refreshing. And yeah, he can spit too, which doesn’t hurt.
Hater Jones: It just doesn’t seem fair to me that he gets so much attention for being quote-unquote “novel.” Like I said, lots of rappers are talented. And lots of rappers are novel. These days, lots of rappers are white. Maybe it’s because he’s all three, I don’t know; right place at the right time with the right skin tone kind of thing. It’s still some bullshit. I get that he has some talent, but how people can just look right past his godawful beat selection, laughably wack singing hooks, emo-ass lyrics, tough-guy posturing, and all that misogyny and homophobia.
Professor Uplift: You know, I hate to be the old man saying the same thing over and over, but that’s textbook white privilege. In this culture, white celebrities are readily forgiven for all but the worst offenses. We look the other way. A white athlete, musician, actor or politician can do everything wrong and still succeed. The world is set up for them to succeed. Mathers may be talented, I don’t know. I don’t think he is at all. But like Mr. Jones pointed out—that talent has its limits, yet public praise for it seemingly does not.
Stanley Johnson: But he’s the best rapper ever! That’s basically an objective fact!
Eddie Kay: (laughing) Objective? How is that an objective fact?
Stanley Johnson: Look. It’s math. You can break down any MC into some combination of flows, content, songwriting, voice, and relevance. You guys do it all the time. It’s why Boots Riley is objectively better than Waka Flocka. Waka may be more relevant, but loses out in all the other categories.
Hater Jones: I mean, voice would be a tossup.
Stanley Johnson: Sure, whatever. But when you look at Eminem, he gets a ten out of ten in all five categories. He’s an omega-level MC. The only one, too. You just can’t argue with that.
Professor Uplift: Dear boy, I think I could argue with that. Your categories themselves are subjective, and furthermore, it seems to me that one category missing from your framework is cultural foundation. Is it not true that artists, especially artists representing—indeed embodying—the white supremacist-capitalist-hetero-patriarchy, should be held accountable to the culture from which they purloin their very livelihoods?
Stanley Johnson: (thinks for a moment) You just don’t like him because he’s white! You teach a class on hip hop and you don’t even listen to any hip hop after 1995!
Professor Uplift: And you only like him because he is white! You weren’t even born in 1995 and know nothing about the culture’s history!
Hater Jones: (to Pennyworth) See what it’s like to try to have a critical conversation about this dude?
Eddie Kay: (laughs) And that’s key, y’all. I feel like most people aren’t interesting in having any kind of critical conversation. It’s either Em is the GOAT and beyond reproach or Em is an overrated culture vulture. But hip hop has never been that simple. He’s both. He’s neither. On some Zen shit, you have to hold both realities in your mind at the same time. If you want to really talk about Eminem—or hip hop in general for that matter—you have to grapple with complexities, you have to engage in the kind of dialogue that maybe doesn’t fit into a one-line thesis statement, or a 300-word album review, or a punch line. Instead of asking pointless, abstract questions like “Do white people belong in hip hop?” let’s ask “What is the responsibility of white people in hip hop to the culture?” Instead of asking “Is Eminem the best ever?” let’s have more conversations about hip-hop aesthetics and what makes someone “good” or “bad.” Instead of writing another pretentious-ass sociology paper with a long-ass title bifurcated by a colon, let’s try to, I don’t know, actually listen to the music, go to some local rap shows, and develop a real relationship with the culture. In the end, I don’t even care about Eminem; but if he can be a gateway for people to start to really understand hip hop as the vibrant, growing, beautiful culture that it is, let’s have that conversation. Let’s keep it moving.
Colin Pennyworth: … Right. Sooooo, back to my article, what do you guys think about Macklemore?
Hater Jones, Stanley Johnson, Eddie Kay: (simultaneously) We gotta get to class.