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All right, I admit it. Branding ourselves as "Your Source for the Minneapolis Hip-Hop Scene" borders on pretentious. If you disagree, you're probably being too kind. Nevermind the fact that we just launched publicly and are at the headwaters of an aggressive campaign of generating relevant, original content and pulling in readers. That's not what I'm talking about.
The pretentious part is in the wording: what one person considers hip-hop probably differs from the next person's interpretation. Defining it in terms of musical style is a little easier, but when you're trying to define an entire scene, it's a slippery slope.
One of the themes I would like to focus on with this publication is the ever-changing face of hip-hop culture. How do you take an accurate portrait of an ever-changing face? You can't. You have to take many, many portraits, over a period of time, across a wide range of examples, to even come close. In social science, they might call this ethnography or anthropology. That said, our city's scene really demonstrates the growing diversity of what used to be viewed as a very rigidly defined culture.
These days, "indieground," "underground," "Whatever-you-wanna-call-it" rap in America is anything but rigid. You've got main-vein rappers like Brother Ali or Murs, who more or less stick to a recognizable rap sound. You've got folks like P.O.S., who comes from a punk rock background that you can definitely pick up in his style. You've got the Anticon label, whose entire catalog of artists create such a wide spectrum of sounds it's hard to call them anything but, well, Anticon. You've got Saul Williams, whose roots are in spoken-word and slam poetry. You've got Carnage and Eyedea, who play with rock bands in addition to being MCs. You've got the Cryphaholics, who are really just all about the party element... and on and on and on until your head spins.
Artists are breaking boundaries and crossing over so much now, the term "hip-hop" has really become a subjective (and dare I say obsolete?) label. Is Mos Def hip-hop? Of course. If Mos Def does a song with a drum 'n' bass artist, is that hip-hop? You tell me. How about Bob Dylan's "Subterranean Homesick Blues"? Or John Lennon's "Give Piece a Chance"? They incorporate some of the lyrical elements, if not the socio-political themes, of rap music.
Some of you may be drafting hateful letters now that I called Bob Dylan rap and insinuated the term "hip-hop" is meangingless. Hold up. That's not what I'm saying. And the last thing I would do is try to recommend a new term or label to describe it, because that would go against the point I am trying to make.
What I'm saying is the more we try to stick a label or classification on something, the more we limit our understanding of, and exposure to, what's really out there. By "we" I don't mean just this publication, or the mass media in general. I mean everybody.
Humans invented language to help us communicate and understand our world and each other. But there is a point when language exceeds its capacity to help and actually starts hindering our perceptual abilities. (Ever try thinking without words?) Perhaps the greatest example of this is when we try to categorize artistic, personal expression. Why do it? Categorization is for the sciences. Art is completely relative.
So call it whatever you want to call it. Just don't assume everyone else knows what you're talking about. And as for the opening premise of this rant, why we brand ourselves as "Your Source for the Minneapolis Hip-Hop Scene"... well, we're going out on a limb here by using the parts of language and categorization that are still relevant. Undoubtedly, there will be times when readers think we're not giving something enough attention, or we're giving too much attention to something else. You may have come here expecting to find something you didn't, or found something you didn't expect to find. But I'll bet none of you came here looking to download Toby Keith songs.
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by Roe Pressley | 
