Strange Days

After his shows this weekend, DJ Stylus posted what I think is an important and incisive blog post about the atmosphere in the different audiences, and what it means for how attitudes about--and ownership of--hip-hop are changing:


I was reminded that when it comes to hip-hop these days, most people have no idea what the fuck they’re talking about.
Not exactly breaking news, I know.
When I was younger and wore hip-hop like a shield of identity, I’d be quick to check you on hip-hop dogma, then I’d strike a b-boy pose. Now that I’m getting older, I’ve started to feel like something was wrong with me. Like I’m the fuddy-duddy who refuses to change with the times. Talking to folks, reading these websites and being in the DJ booth trenches with my comrades are making me realize it’s not me.... 
You don’t have to have the same experience in order to love hip-hop. You don’t have to spend 20 years and tens of thousands of dollars collecting records. You don’t have make a pilgrimage to the Bronx or perfect a six-step. I understand being zealous about hip-hop. The difference between my experience and the what I’m seeing today is the lack of humility about what you DON’T know. 
For instance. I love jazz. I started learning about it in high school. I’ve been to a lot of shows and collected a lot of music. I’ve even performed with jazz musicians. But I’d never critique an expert jazz musician without knowing what I was talking about backwards and forwards. So out of all the assholes that regularly give us grief in the DJ booth, why are the most rabid ones almost always on some hip-hop related bullshit?
Now, I cop to having been in the audience that was "more diverse, significantly younger, and only really moved by the same hits that everyone knows," although I was making a fool of myself bopping around in the corner by the speakers, trying to avoid running into a crowd of Asian kids and getting in the way of the break dancers, no matter whether I recognized the song or not.  Stylus's post, and my own reaction, reminded me of the great line in Bull Durham when Kevin Costner, as the experienced veteran, tells Tim Robbins, as the cocky rookie, "You gotta play this game with fear and arrogance."  My approach to hip-hop has always been the reverse of that: I come to the genre out of great love and bearing the weight of great humility.  I am willing to like almost anything.  The only things I'd claim to  truly know well are Cee-Lo and OutKast's ouvre's, and Eminem's.  I have a LOT of lyrics memorized, but that's only because I have a head for words, no matter what form they come in.  I'm not so great at recognizing samples.  But I will dance to anything.

And ultimately, I think that's really what our reactions to music should be about.  Does it make you want to dance in public, to overcome your fear of awkwardness and aloneness so you can move?  Does it push you faster on the treadmill or the trail?  Does it make you look up as you walk down an entirely familiar street and see things differently?  I'm fine with letting musicians themselves be as esoteric and professional as they want.  But I judge music largely by how it makes me feel.  Which is part of the reason I'm not really a music critic.  But I also just think music needs to be about joy, whether communal or personal, not about showing off--especially when you've got nothing to show.