News Analysis India

Tag: Hip-hop

  • Chance the Rapper will discuss his career and the impact of hip-hop at an Apple store in Chicago

    By Associated Press

    LOS ANGELES: Chance the Rapper will take Apple store customers in Chicago on his hip-hop journey as part of an audio series celebrating the genre’s 50th anniversary.

    Chance the Rapper will discuss becoming a rap star at the Apple Michigan Avenue location in his hometown, the technology company announced Monday. He’ll make the appearance at the retail store Wednesday during an event hosted by Today at Apple, which offers free in-store educational sessions for devices and programs.

    The Grammy winner expects to discuss the impact hip-hop had on his life, including his venture as an independent artist and the 10th anniversary of his critically acclaimed “Acid Rap” mixtape. He will have a conversation with Ebro Darden, global editorial head of hip-hop and R&B at Apple Music.

    Chance the Rapper said he wants to celebrate a rap culture that “empowered a generation and gave voice to the voiceless.”

    Throughout August and September, Today at Apple will host several events with artists from across the genre featuring rappers, producers and DJs. The sessions are inspired by Apple Music’s Hip-Hop DNA, a 20-episode audio series.

    Other sessions will include conversations with rappers Rapsody, Lola Brooke and LaRussell along with producers Just Blaze and Harry Fraud. Other sessions will touch on racial equity and a live digital art competition.

    The events will be held in Apple store locations in New York, Chicago and San Francisco.

    “We can’t wait to welcome customers and music lovers to learn about the creative process of these incredible artists,” said Tracey Hannelly, Apple’s senior director of retail engagement and marketing.

    LOS ANGELES: Chance the Rapper will take Apple store customers in Chicago on his hip-hop journey as part of an audio series celebrating the genre’s 50th anniversary.

    Chance the Rapper will discuss becoming a rap star at the Apple Michigan Avenue location in his hometown, the technology company announced Monday. He’ll make the appearance at the retail store Wednesday during an event hosted by Today at Apple, which offers free in-store educational sessions for devices and programs.

    The Grammy winner expects to discuss the impact hip-hop had on his life, including his venture as an independent artist and the 10th anniversary of his critically acclaimed “Acid Rap” mixtape. He will have a conversation with Ebro Darden, global editorial head of hip-hop and R&B at Apple Music.googletag.cmd.push(function() {googletag.display(‘div-gpt-ad-8052921-2’); });

    Chance the Rapper said he wants to celebrate a rap culture that “empowered a generation and gave voice to the voiceless.”

    Throughout August and September, Today at Apple will host several events with artists from across the genre featuring rappers, producers and DJs. The sessions are inspired by Apple Music’s Hip-Hop DNA, a 20-episode audio series.

    Other sessions will include conversations with rappers Rapsody, Lola Brooke and LaRussell along with producers Just Blaze and Harry Fraud. Other sessions will touch on racial equity and a live digital art competition.

    The events will be held in Apple store locations in New York, Chicago and San Francisco.

    “We can’t wait to welcome customers and music lovers to learn about the creative process of these incredible artists,” said Tracey Hannelly, Apple’s senior director of retail engagement and marketing.

  • Nas, Run-DMC, Snoop helm marathon birthday party for hip-hop

    NEW YORK: Thousands of people partied deep into the night Friday as part of an all-star Bronx bash celebrating 50 years of hip-hop, featuring trailblazers including Run-DMC, Nas, Lauryn Hill, and Snoop Dogg.

    The pops were on lock and the joy absolute at a packed Yankee Stadium, where New Yorkers and tourists alike commemorated five decades of the music, whose vast influence irrevocably shook the culture.

    “I didn’t know how monumental it was gonna be growing up,” said Kiesha Astwood, 50, who, like hip-hop, was born in 1973 on Sedgwick Avenue in the Bronx.

    It was there that DJ Kool Herc’s younger sister Cindy threw a back-to-school party in the rec room of a high-rise apartment building, and the DJ spun the same record twice, into the first documented breakbeat.

    “It’s very invigorating,” Astwood told AFP moments after Kool Herc received accolades for his role in birthing the genre. “Here we are 50 years later.”

    None other than Run-DMC — one of hip-hop’s most influential acts — headlined the evening, playing hits including the beloved “It’s Tricky,” which had the arena crowd screaming along despite the post-1:00 a.m. start time.

    Prior to that performance Nas, the mammoth concert’s ringleader, played a string of songs off his seminal album “Illmatic,” including “The World Is Yours” and “N.Y. State of Mind.”

    The crowd roared when the New York icon closed his set by inviting fellow legend Lauryn Hill onstage to sing the track they collaborated on “If I Ruled the World (Imagine That)” as well as her own smash single “Doo Wop (That Thing)” and her rendition of “Killing Me Softly,” that she originally performed as part of The Fugees.

    That was preceded by none other than Snoop Dogg, who also played fan favorites including “The Next Episode,” “Nuthin’ But A ‘G’ Thang” and “Gin And Juice.”

    The 51-year-old G-funk pioneer wore heart-shaped glasses and lit up onstage, as is his custom, vibing to his own legend as remarkably agile pole dancers harmonized alongside.

    Lil Wayne was also among the performers smoking weed, whose scent hung heavy in the summer air.

    The trap artist from Louisiana was a showstopper as he bounded across the stage, giving hit after hit including “A Milli” and “Lollipop” before thanking his adoring fans and walking off to Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You.”

    Antoine Crossley had traveled all the way from Chicago to catch the history-spanning show, which began with hip-hop’s founding fathers, including Melle Mel and Scorpio along with Grandmaster Caz.

    “I think hip-hop is something that really has brought a voice to people that originally didn’t have a voice,” he told AFP as he filed into the stadium.

    “It speaks to me. I think growing up, it was something that was always special to me. So we were willing to make that trip and make it happen.”

    ‘Our bloodline’

    The marathon concert was the crown jewel of celebrations that have reverberated throughout the city to commemorate the 50th anniversary.

    Clocking in at more than eight hours long, it also included performances from The Sugarhill Gang, members of the Wu-Tang Clan, and Ice Cube.

    For some critics and fans, pinpointing a date to mark the development of a style of music — which was rumbling well before August 11, 1973 — seems arbitrary.

    But perhaps no type of music has deserved a reason to celebrate more.

    Hip-hop was for decades maligned, ignored, and censored by the industry it eventually shaped in profound ways, in a country where rappers have churned out massive pop hits and heavily impacted everything from music to fashion, language to dance.

    The quintessentially Black American art form has traveled from block parties in the Bronx to every corner of the globe; these days, most countries host a regional hip-hop scene of their own.

    Speaking near the concessions, Julio Casado, 42, said “I love to travel, and I kind of have a competition with hip-hop.”

    “I try to visit places where hip-hop hasn’t been to yet. But the reality is, hip-hop has been all over, and hip-hop’s actually got me beat.”

    Everyone from children to grandparents danced, cheered, and illuminated the 46,000-capacity baseball venue with their phones.

    But there was no shortage of jokes referencing that fans were aging right along with hip-hop itself.

    “Everyone sitting is over thirty, we got some knees hurting out there,” joked one emcee.

    The fans who had the endurance to stay to the end got to see Nas bring Kool Herc back onstage for another round of thanks: “This is our love, our bloodline,” Nas said.

    “I’m fifty years old with hip-hop this year,” Nas said. “Hip-hop was born for you and me, and this is where we are supposed to be.”

    “In N-Y-C.”

  • Hip-hop and justice: Culture carries the spirit of protest, 50 years and counting

    By Associated Press

    NEW YORK: In the early days of hip-hop, plugging turntables into a light post and converting an outdoor basketball court into a discotheque may have seemed like a simple invitation to party.

    A closer look scene revealed the truth: Hip-hop was a response to social and economic injustice in disregarded neighborhoods, a showcase of joy, ingenuity and innovation despite a lack of wealth and resources.

    The music emanating from the DJ’s equipment might tell partiers to “move your feet,” and in the very next set, tell them to “fight the power.”

    Hip-hop has been an integral part of social and racial justice movements. It’s also been scrutinized by law enforcement and political groups because of their belief that hip-hop and its artists’ encourage violent criminality.

    Whether a warning, a demand or an affirmation, hip-hop culture and, especially, rap music have been mediums for holding the powerful accountable, for delivering lyrical indictments against systemic injustice. Hip-hop can champion the underserved and reclaim space, like tagged walls or impromptu breakdancing battles on a transit platform.

    Because it can threaten the concentration of power, certain forces have demonized the culture, said Willie “Prophet” Stiggers, co-founder and chair of the Black Music Action Coalition, a group of artists, lawyers, managers and producers unified against systemic racism in the music industry and in society.

    “Of course they want to weaponize it,” Stigger said. “The narrative can’t be that this genius cultural expression, that is the greatest cultural force that we have globally, grew out of a disenfranchised people.”

    Many trace hip-hop’s birth to a back-to-school party at a Bronx apartment building 50 years ago this month. And since its birth, emceeing, beatboxing, deejaying, and graffiti have done much more than entertain legions of fans around the world and generate billions of dollars in commerce – hip-hop’s four elements carry the spirit of resistance and free expression as a comfort to the afflicted and affliction to those who are too comfortable.

    __“Got to give us what we want/Gotta give us what we need/Our freedom of speech is freedom or death/We got to fight the powers that be!” – Public Enemy, “Fight the Power,” 1990

    __Social and religious conservatives of all stripes have long seen hip-hop as a threat to so-called traditional values, peace and order – but their attempts at stifling the culture have only propelled it to worldwide acclaim and grown its influence over public debates and democracy.

    However, racial justice activists and free speech advocates see the ongoing persecution of rappers as a proxy war primarily waged against Black and Latino men who are the early pioneers of the culture. And for hip-hop artists who live under repressive regimes throughout the world, “dropping bars” to air one’s grievances against the government can mean time behind bars or worse.

    “Black history is under attack, Black culture is under attack, rap music is under attack,” said US Rep. Hank Johnson, a Democratic sponsor of federal legislation that would protect artists from having their lyrics and creative expression used against them in court.

    The Georgia congressman spoke in support of the legislation to the thousands who attended a Rolling Loud hip-hop music festival in Miami late last month. Johnson and fellow Democrat Rep. Jamaal Bowman of New York sponsored the Restoring Artistic Protection Act, or RAP Act, to ensure that lyrics aren’t the only evidence supporting a criminal case. Similar legislation in a handful of states would require prosecutors to prove a defendant’s lyrics aren’t figurative, exaggeration or out-right fictional.

    A study by University of Georgia law professor Andrea Dennis, who co-authored the 2019 book “Rap on Trial: Race, Lyrics and Guilt in America,” found roughly 500 criminal trial cases dating to the late 1980s in which rap lyrics were successfully used as evidence. Dennis and other advocates believe the cases, brought against mostly Black defendants, have led to unjust incarceration.

    Some have pointed to the criminal street gang conspiracy case, brought under Georgia’s criminal racketeering law, against Atlanta rapper Young Thug and over two dozen purported affiliates of the rapper’s Young Stoner Life record label. In 2022, Fulton County prosecutors included lyrics from the rapper, referencing drugs and violence, as evidence of an “overt act in furtherance of a (gang) conspiracy.”

    Young Thug, whose legal name is Jeffrey Williams, co-wrote the Childish Gambino hit “This is America,” which is a commentary on violence and systemic racism in the US The song made history in 2019 as the first hip-hop track to win the song of the year Grammy – and it was parodied by global artists to speak to corruption and injustice in Nigeria, Malaysia and Australia.

    __“Cops give a damn about a negro/Pull the trigger, kill a n——-, he’s a hero.” – Tupac, “Changes,” 1992

    __As hip-hop and rap music grew into a force in American culture, its pioneers used it as a medium to speak to their personal realities. In 1982, in the song “The Message,” Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five decried stark poverty and disinvestment that seemed especially concentrated in Black communities. A decade later, Tupac Shakur railed against police brutality in the song “Changes.”

    In 2016, following the fatal police shootings of Philando Castile and Alton Sterling, rap music and protest were almost inextricably linked. It was rare then to attend a demonstration and not hear Kendrick Lamar’s 2015 song “Alright,” a celebration of triumph over adversity in the face of systemic oppression and injustice.

    “All Black creative expression is political because Black life is political,” said Timothy Welbeck, the director of the Center for Anti-Racism at Temple University in Philadelphia.

    Welbeck, who is also an independent rap artist and teaches courses on hip-hop in Temple’s Africology and African American Studies Department, said rap music’s accessibility is what makes the genre so popular and so impactful.

    “It makes sense that social movements would gravitate towards hip-hop, as a culture and rap music as a medium of expression,” he said. “And it also makes sense that rappers would position themselves in these movements, in part, because rappers are coming out of the communities that are experiencing the need to protest.”

    In an Associated Press interview earlier this year, Chuck D of Public Enemy said he sees hip-hop as a catalyst for the Black Lives Matter movement.

    “(BLM is) a collective where people felt the same way,” he said. “It spoke politically to the injustice regarding George Floyd and was a spark that connected around the world. Hip-hop has done the same thing. Hip-hop ties human beings for their similarities and knocks the differences to the side. It’s a movement.”

    Following worldwide protests over Floyd’s 2020 murder by police in Minneapolis, his brother Terrence Floyd joined an effort to fuse rap, gospel and spirituals on an album of protest songs. A former church drummer, Floyd said he wanted to use the music to affect change in his brother’s name.

    __“I’m at the preacher’s door/My knees gettin’ weak and my gun might blow/But we gon’ be alright.” – Kendrick Lamar, “Alright,” 2015

    __And then there’s hip-hop’s global influence on protest, resistance and political dissent. From the Arab Spring and the Palestinian freedom fight to feminism and class struggles, rap music is a popular medium for calls to action, as well as call-outs of despots and colonizers.

    Rap music videos produced by artists in African, Europe, Asia and South America often include beatboxers, breakdancers, graffiti and other elements of hip-hop.

    In 2016, on a visit to Vietnam during a historic tour of Asia, former President Barack Obama answered questions about human rights and free expression across the continent. One question came from Suboi, a female rapper known as Vietnam’s “Queen of Hip-Hop” who said she struggled against the Vietnamese stereotype that rap music isn’t a proper expression for Asian women.

    “Let’s be honest, sometimes art is dangerous and that’s why governments sometimes get nervous about art,” Obama said. “But one of the things that I truly believe is that if you try to suppress the arts, then I think you’re suppressing the deepest dreams and aspirations of a people.”

    Civil rights leader Rev. Al Sharpton, who turned 18 as hip-hop really took off out of his native New York, said rap music fueled the movement that has shaped much of his public life. At age 68, he believes hip-hop culture tilled the ground for the election of the first Black American president in 2008.

    “I didn’t come out of the ‘We Shall Overcome’ generation,” Sharpton said. “I came out of Fight the Power, Public Enemy.”

    He added: “Hip-hop took the chains off us and said, ‘No, we’re gonna say it our way, anyway.’ … It was that freedom. It was that raw, non-watered down kind of expression. We understood that rage and anger, even though we expressed it in different ways.”

    NEW YORK: In the early days of hip-hop, plugging turntables into a light post and converting an outdoor basketball court into a discotheque may have seemed like a simple invitation to party.

    A closer look scene revealed the truth: Hip-hop was a response to social and economic injustice in disregarded neighborhoods, a showcase of joy, ingenuity and innovation despite a lack of wealth and resources.

    The music emanating from the DJ’s equipment might tell partiers to “move your feet,” and in the very next set, tell them to “fight the power.”googletag.cmd.push(function() {googletag.display(‘div-gpt-ad-8052921-2’); });

    Hip-hop has been an integral part of social and racial justice movements. It’s also been scrutinized by law enforcement and political groups because of their belief that hip-hop and its artists’ encourage violent criminality.

    Whether a warning, a demand or an affirmation, hip-hop culture and, especially, rap music have been mediums for holding the powerful accountable, for delivering lyrical indictments against systemic injustice. Hip-hop can champion the underserved and reclaim space, like tagged walls or impromptu breakdancing battles on a transit platform.

    Because it can threaten the concentration of power, certain forces have demonized the culture, said Willie “Prophet” Stiggers, co-founder and chair of the Black Music Action Coalition, a group of artists, lawyers, managers and producers unified against systemic racism in the music industry and in society.

    “Of course they want to weaponize it,” Stigger said. “The narrative can’t be that this genius cultural expression, that is the greatest cultural force that we have globally, grew out of a disenfranchised people.”

    Many trace hip-hop’s birth to a back-to-school party at a Bronx apartment building 50 years ago this month. And since its birth, emceeing, beatboxing, deejaying, and graffiti have done much more than entertain legions of fans around the world and generate billions of dollars in commerce – hip-hop’s four elements carry the spirit of resistance and free expression as a comfort to the afflicted and affliction to those who are too comfortable.

    __
    “Got to give us what we want/Gotta give us what we need/Our freedom of speech is freedom or death/We got to fight the powers that be!” – Public Enemy, “Fight the Power,” 1990

    __
    Social and religious conservatives of all stripes have long seen hip-hop as a threat to so-called traditional values, peace and order – but their attempts at stifling the culture have only propelled it to worldwide acclaim and grown its influence over public debates and democracy.

    However, racial justice activists and free speech advocates see the ongoing persecution of rappers as a proxy war primarily waged against Black and Latino men who are the early pioneers of the culture. And for hip-hop artists who live under repressive regimes throughout the world, “dropping bars” to air one’s grievances against the government can mean time behind bars or worse.

    “Black history is under attack, Black culture is under attack, rap music is under attack,” said US Rep. Hank Johnson, a Democratic sponsor of federal legislation that would protect artists from having their lyrics and creative expression used against them in court.

    The Georgia congressman spoke in support of the legislation to the thousands who attended a Rolling Loud hip-hop music festival in Miami late last month. Johnson and fellow Democrat Rep. Jamaal Bowman of New York sponsored the Restoring Artistic Protection Act, or RAP Act, to ensure that lyrics aren’t the only evidence supporting a criminal case. Similar legislation in a handful of states would require prosecutors to prove a defendant’s lyrics aren’t figurative, exaggeration or out-right fictional.

    A study by University of Georgia law professor Andrea Dennis, who co-authored the 2019 book “Rap on Trial: Race, Lyrics and Guilt in America,” found roughly 500 criminal trial cases dating to the late 1980s in which rap lyrics were successfully used as evidence. Dennis and other advocates believe the cases, brought against mostly Black defendants, have led to unjust incarceration.

    Some have pointed to the criminal street gang conspiracy case, brought under Georgia’s criminal racketeering law, against Atlanta rapper Young Thug and over two dozen purported affiliates of the rapper’s Young Stoner Life record label. In 2022, Fulton County prosecutors included lyrics from the rapper, referencing drugs and violence, as evidence of an “overt act in furtherance of a (gang) conspiracy.”

    Young Thug, whose legal name is Jeffrey Williams, co-wrote the Childish Gambino hit “This is America,” which is a commentary on violence and systemic racism in the US The song made history in 2019 as the first hip-hop track to win the song of the year Grammy – and it was parodied by global artists to speak to corruption and injustice in Nigeria, Malaysia and Australia.

    __
    “Cops give a damn about a negro/Pull the trigger, kill a n——-, he’s a hero.” – Tupac, “Changes,” 1992

    __
    As hip-hop and rap music grew into a force in American culture, its pioneers used it as a medium to speak to their personal realities. In 1982, in the song “The Message,” Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five decried stark poverty and disinvestment that seemed especially concentrated in Black communities. A decade later, Tupac Shakur railed against police brutality in the song “Changes.”

    In 2016, following the fatal police shootings of Philando Castile and Alton Sterling, rap music and protest were almost inextricably linked. It was rare then to attend a demonstration and not hear Kendrick Lamar’s 2015 song “Alright,” a celebration of triumph over adversity in the face of systemic oppression and injustice.

    “All Black creative expression is political because Black life is political,” said Timothy Welbeck, the director of the Center for Anti-Racism at Temple University in Philadelphia.

    Welbeck, who is also an independent rap artist and teaches courses on hip-hop in Temple’s Africology and African American Studies Department, said rap music’s accessibility is what makes the genre so popular and so impactful.

    “It makes sense that social movements would gravitate towards hip-hop, as a culture and rap music as a medium of expression,” he said. “And it also makes sense that rappers would position themselves in these movements, in part, because rappers are coming out of the communities that are experiencing the need to protest.”

    In an Associated Press interview earlier this year, Chuck D of Public Enemy said he sees hip-hop as a catalyst for the Black Lives Matter movement.

    “(BLM is) a collective where people felt the same way,” he said. “It spoke politically to the injustice regarding George Floyd and was a spark that connected around the world. Hip-hop has done the same thing. Hip-hop ties human beings for their similarities and knocks the differences to the side. It’s a movement.”

    Following worldwide protests over Floyd’s 2020 murder by police in Minneapolis, his brother Terrence Floyd joined an effort to fuse rap, gospel and spirituals on an album of protest songs. A former church drummer, Floyd said he wanted to use the music to affect change in his brother’s name.

    __
    “I’m at the preacher’s door/My knees gettin’ weak and my gun might blow/But we gon’ be alright.” – Kendrick Lamar, “Alright,” 2015

    __
    And then there’s hip-hop’s global influence on protest, resistance and political dissent. From the Arab Spring and the Palestinian freedom fight to feminism and class struggles, rap music is a popular medium for calls to action, as well as call-outs of despots and colonizers.

    Rap music videos produced by artists in African, Europe, Asia and South America often include beatboxers, breakdancers, graffiti and other elements of hip-hop.

    In 2016, on a visit to Vietnam during a historic tour of Asia, former President Barack Obama answered questions about human rights and free expression across the continent. One question came from Suboi, a female rapper known as Vietnam’s “Queen of Hip-Hop” who said she struggled against the Vietnamese stereotype that rap music isn’t a proper expression for Asian women.

    “Let’s be honest, sometimes art is dangerous and that’s why governments sometimes get nervous about art,” Obama said. “But one of the things that I truly believe is that if you try to suppress the arts, then I think you’re suppressing the deepest dreams and aspirations of a people.”

    Civil rights leader Rev. Al Sharpton, who turned 18 as hip-hop really took off out of his native New York, said rap music fueled the movement that has shaped much of his public life. At age 68, he believes hip-hop culture tilled the ground for the election of the first Black American president in 2008.

    “I didn’t come out of the ‘We Shall Overcome’ generation,” Sharpton said. “I came out of Fight the Power, Public Enemy.”

    He added: “Hip-hop took the chains off us and said, ‘No, we’re gonna say it our way, anyway.’ … It was that freedom. It was that raw, non-watered down kind of expression. We understood that rage and anger, even though we expressed it in different ways.”

  • Hip-hop was born in the Bronx amid poverty, despair and 50 years later, there’s pride, still hard times

    By Associated Press

    BRONX, NEW YORK: Before it was a global movement, it was simply an expression of life and struggle: a culture that was synonymous with hardship and suffering, but also grit, resilience and creativity.

    Hip-hop rose from the ashes of a borough ablaze with poverty, urban decay and gang violence. It was music that “had the sound of a city in collapse, but also had an air of defiance,” said Mark Naison, history professor at Fordham University in the Bronx. Block parties and the various elements of hip-hop served as an outlet for creativity and an escape from the hardships of daily life.

    The four foundational elements of hip-hop — DJing or turntablism, MCing or rapping, B-boying or break dancing and graffiti “writing” — emerged from the Bronx as a “cultural response to a community that was institutionally abandoned,” said Rodrigo Venegas, also known as “Rodstarz” of the hip-hop duo Rebel Diaz, made up of two Chilean brothers in the Bronx.

    “You want to cut our art programs? We’re going to turn the whole city into a canvas. You want to cut our music programs? We’re going to turn turntables into instruments. You want to silence our communities? Then we’re going to grab these microphones and use our voices,” Venegas said.

    Subway cars heading into Manhattan were covered in graffiti in the 70s and 80s, after young “writers” tagged their names and messages from top to bottom. At a time when New York City politicians disparaged the Bronx and deemed it unworthy of investment, it was a way for teenagers and young adults to express themselves and take control of their narrative.

    “It was a way to feel like we mattered,” said Lloyd Murphy, who tagged his name as “Topaz1.” “We saw New York City and the trains going by as a billboard to put your name on and say, ‘I’m somebody.’”

    Hip-hop eventually expanded across New York City, then to different parts of the country and the world. But as artists and hip-hop giants mark the 50th anniversary of a multi-billion dollar global industry this month, the original birthplace of the movement remains the poorest section of New York City. The Bronx has yet to capitalize off of the culture it created in any significant way.

    At the time of hip-hop’s inception, the Bronx had the highest poverty rate of not just New York City, but of all 62 counties in New York state. Fifty years later, it holds that same status.

    “I do find it ironic that one of the richest parts of American culture comes from a place that is still one of the poorest parts of our country,” said Majora Carter, an urban revitalization strategist and founder of The Boogie Down Grind, a cafe in the South Bronx that has images of old hip-hop party flyers from the 70s and 80s lining the walls and classic hip-hop jams playing over the speakers. Carter, 56, grew up just blocks away from where the cafe now sits in Hunts Point and lived the realities of urban blight. Her brother was killed in gang violence and she saw her neighborhood fall prey to drugs, prostitution and violent crime throughout her childhood.

    The earliest hip-hop culture was a reflection of those difficult realities in the South Bronx.

    “Poverty was the flavor of the day,” said Murphy, who also grew up in the South Bronx in the 1960s. He remembers multiple families crammed into public housing units, sometimes up to 15 people living in a two or three-bedroom apartment, sharing the space with rats and roaches and dealing with negligent landlords.

    New York City as a whole was facing bankruptcy in the 70s, and the Bronx, which was already suffering from disinvestment, redlining, resident displacement and white and middle-class flight, descended into urban decay. Privately-owned housing buildings across the borough went up in flames, often set ablaze by landlords themselves for insurance money. The Bronx was on fire, and Vietnam veterans – often missing limbs, addicted to heroin and other drugs – found themselves returning home to a war zone. Life in the Bronx was bleak, and Murphy said his neighborhood of Fort Apache was infamous for its violent crime.

    “The world was not flowers and butterflies and sunshine, especially if you were living in the Fort Apache section of the South Bronx,” said graffiti writer Edward Jamison, also known as “Staff 161.” In December, 1972, Jamison painted an entire subway car with an image of the Grim Reaper, “because that’s what I knew.”

    Originally, the Fort Apache neighborhood was supported by the Black Panther Party. They worked security and distributed food through programs around the neighborhood. When they left, block crews filled the void. Those turned into street gangs.

    “A block crew was the protector of that block and the street gang was the security for the community, more than the police department,” Murphy said. “We felt forgotten. We felt like we were our own world where we just had to fend for ourselves. And we did.”

    It took the murder of peace keeper “Black Benjie” of the Ghetto Brothers, a gang and music group in the South Bronx, for rival gangs to convene and sign a peace treaty. It was this truce that paved the way for block parties to be held in the Bronx, and for residents from different neighborhoods to attend them freely, without fear of street violence.

    In the wake of that peace treaty, 18-year-old Clive Campbell, also known as DJ Kool Herc, threw a back-to-school party with his younger sister in the recreation room of an apartment building on Sedgwick Avenue one August day in 1973. Herc introduced the attendees to “the break” – extending the musical beat between verses to allow for longer periods of dancing. A musical phenomenon was born.

    “It’s very easy to look at the Bronx during this period in terms of deficits, redlining, disinvestment, white flight, the loss of economic opportunity,” Naison said. “But during those years, the Bronx was also creating more varieties of popular music than any place in the world.”

    For those who call the Bronx home today, it can be an uphill battle to counter the narrative that their neighborhoods are a lost cause.

    “We’re literally trying to give people reasons in our community to feel as though there’s something worthwhile about it – that all of the hype that we hear in the media about how awful these neighborhoods are, that there are actually amazing things going on in them,” Carter said.

    After years of proposals, the Universal Hip-Hop Museum is expected to open its doors in 2025. The hope is that the development, which will include affordable housing and retail space, will make the South Bronx a destination for tourists and New York City residents, and will capitalize off of the legacy of hip-hop.

    But in the poorest section of New York City, some are cautious when it comes to new buildings. The Mott Haven neighborhood, a waterfront enclave located in the South Bronx, has undergone a wave of new development in recent years, and many residents fear gentrification and displacement. In 2021, the poverty rate for the district that includes Mott Haven was about 36%.

    “You have hip-hop museums being built in The Bronx that I view, personally, as concessions to the real estate buyouts that have been happening here,” Venegas said.

    Venegas and his brother grew up in Chicago but formed their musical identities after moving to the Bronx in the early 2000s. They lead workshops and host events at the BronxArtSpace to support the culture of hip-hop in the Bronx as the birthplace of the movement, with a particular emphasis on using it as a tool in struggles against oppression, from the Bronx to around the world.

    “We’re trying to maintain the legacy of hip-hop through liberation,” he said.

    Amid the commemorations and celebrations marking the 50th anniversary of hip-hop, the Bronx basks in a momentary spotlight for its contributions to a global movement. For the early pioneers who shaped and molded an entire culture out of their daily plight, that value can’t be fully measured.

    “These kids had everything taken away from them, and they created something to give their lives direction, meaning, safety, and a sense that their talent meant something,” said Mark Naison. “Big money? Nobody involved in Bronx hip-hop made big money. But they saved lives. They gave lives meaning.”

    BRONX, NEW YORK: Before it was a global movement, it was simply an expression of life and struggle: a culture that was synonymous with hardship and suffering, but also grit, resilience and creativity.

    Hip-hop rose from the ashes of a borough ablaze with poverty, urban decay and gang violence. It was music that “had the sound of a city in collapse, but also had an air of defiance,” said Mark Naison, history professor at Fordham University in the Bronx. Block parties and the various elements of hip-hop served as an outlet for creativity and an escape from the hardships of daily life.

    The four foundational elements of hip-hop — DJing or turntablism, MCing or rapping, B-boying or break dancing and graffiti “writing” — emerged from the Bronx as a “cultural response to a community that was institutionally abandoned,” said Rodrigo Venegas, also known as “Rodstarz” of the hip-hop duo Rebel Diaz, made up of two Chilean brothers in the Bronx.googletag.cmd.push(function() {googletag.display(‘div-gpt-ad-8052921-2’); });

    “You want to cut our art programs? We’re going to turn the whole city into a canvas. You want to cut our music programs? We’re going to turn turntables into instruments. You want to silence our communities? Then we’re going to grab these microphones and use our voices,” Venegas said.

    Subway cars heading into Manhattan were covered in graffiti in the 70s and 80s, after young “writers” tagged their names and messages from top to bottom. At a time when New York City politicians disparaged the Bronx and deemed it unworthy of investment, it was a way for teenagers and young adults to express themselves and take control of their narrative.

    “It was a way to feel like we mattered,” said Lloyd Murphy, who tagged his name as “Topaz1.” “We saw New York City and the trains going by as a billboard to put your name on and say, ‘I’m somebody.’”

    Hip-hop eventually expanded across New York City, then to different parts of the country and the world. But as artists and hip-hop giants mark the 50th anniversary of a multi-billion dollar global industry this month, the original birthplace of the movement remains the poorest section of New York City. The Bronx has yet to capitalize off of the culture it created in any significant way.

    At the time of hip-hop’s inception, the Bronx had the highest poverty rate of not just New York City, but of all 62 counties in New York state. Fifty years later, it holds that same status.

    “I do find it ironic that one of the richest parts of American culture comes from a place that is still one of the poorest parts of our country,” said Majora Carter, an urban revitalization strategist and founder of The Boogie Down Grind, a cafe in the South Bronx that has images of old hip-hop party flyers from the 70s and 80s lining the walls and classic hip-hop jams playing over the speakers. Carter, 56, grew up just blocks away from where the cafe now sits in Hunts Point and lived the realities of urban blight. Her brother was killed in gang violence and she saw her neighborhood fall prey to drugs, prostitution and violent crime throughout her childhood.

    The earliest hip-hop culture was a reflection of those difficult realities in the South Bronx.

    “Poverty was the flavor of the day,” said Murphy, who also grew up in the South Bronx in the 1960s. He remembers multiple families crammed into public housing units, sometimes up to 15 people living in a two or three-bedroom apartment, sharing the space with rats and roaches and dealing with negligent landlords.

    New York City as a whole was facing bankruptcy in the 70s, and the Bronx, which was already suffering from disinvestment, redlining, resident displacement and white and middle-class flight, descended into urban decay. Privately-owned housing buildings across the borough went up in flames, often set ablaze by landlords themselves for insurance money. The Bronx was on fire, and Vietnam veterans – often missing limbs, addicted to heroin and other drugs – found themselves returning home to a war zone. Life in the Bronx was bleak, and Murphy said his neighborhood of Fort Apache was infamous for its violent crime.

    “The world was not flowers and butterflies and sunshine, especially if you were living in the Fort Apache section of the South Bronx,” said graffiti writer Edward Jamison, also known as “Staff 161.” In December, 1972, Jamison painted an entire subway car with an image of the Grim Reaper, “because that’s what I knew.”

    Originally, the Fort Apache neighborhood was supported by the Black Panther Party. They worked security and distributed food through programs around the neighborhood. When they left, block crews filled the void. Those turned into street gangs.

    “A block crew was the protector of that block and the street gang was the security for the community, more than the police department,” Murphy said. “We felt forgotten. We felt like we were our own world where we just had to fend for ourselves. And we did.”

    It took the murder of peace keeper “Black Benjie” of the Ghetto Brothers, a gang and music group in the South Bronx, for rival gangs to convene and sign a peace treaty. It was this truce that paved the way for block parties to be held in the Bronx, and for residents from different neighborhoods to attend them freely, without fear of street violence.

    In the wake of that peace treaty, 18-year-old Clive Campbell, also known as DJ Kool Herc, threw a back-to-school party with his younger sister in the recreation room of an apartment building on Sedgwick Avenue one August day in 1973. Herc introduced the attendees to “the break” – extending the musical beat between verses to allow for longer periods of dancing. A musical phenomenon was born.

    “It’s very easy to look at the Bronx during this period in terms of deficits, redlining, disinvestment, white flight, the loss of economic opportunity,” Naison said. “But during those years, the Bronx was also creating more varieties of popular music than any place in the world.”

    For those who call the Bronx home today, it can be an uphill battle to counter the narrative that their neighborhoods are a lost cause.

    “We’re literally trying to give people reasons in our community to feel as though there’s something worthwhile about it – that all of the hype that we hear in the media about how awful these neighborhoods are, that there are actually amazing things going on in them,” Carter said.

    After years of proposals, the Universal Hip-Hop Museum is expected to open its doors in 2025. The hope is that the development, which will include affordable housing and retail space, will make the South Bronx a destination for tourists and New York City residents, and will capitalize off of the legacy of hip-hop.

    But in the poorest section of New York City, some are cautious when it comes to new buildings. The Mott Haven neighborhood, a waterfront enclave located in the South Bronx, has undergone a wave of new development in recent years, and many residents fear gentrification and displacement. In 2021, the poverty rate for the district that includes Mott Haven was about 36%.

    “You have hip-hop museums being built in The Bronx that I view, personally, as concessions to the real estate buyouts that have been happening here,” Venegas said.

    Venegas and his brother grew up in Chicago but formed their musical identities after moving to the Bronx in the early 2000s. They lead workshops and host events at the BronxArtSpace to support the culture of hip-hop in the Bronx as the birthplace of the movement, with a particular emphasis on using it as a tool in struggles against oppression, from the Bronx to around the world.

    “We’re trying to maintain the legacy of hip-hop through liberation,” he said.

    Amid the commemorations and celebrations marking the 50th anniversary of hip-hop, the Bronx basks in a momentary spotlight for its contributions to a global movement. For the early pioneers who shaped and molded an entire culture out of their daily plight, that value can’t be fully measured.

    “These kids had everything taken away from them, and they created something to give their lives direction, meaning, safety, and a sense that their talent meant something,” said Mark Naison. “Big money? Nobody involved in Bronx hip-hop made big money. But they saved lives. They gave lives meaning.”

  • Queen Latifah, Chuck D and more rap legends on ‘Rapper’s Delight’ and their early hip-hop influences

    By Associated Press

    LOS ANGELES: Remember the first rap song you heard? Some of your favorite rappers and DJs certainly do.

    While hip-hop celebrates 50 years of life, The Associated Press asked some of the genre’s most popular artists to recall their first memory of hearing rap and how the moment resonated with them.

    In interviews with more than two dozen hip-hop legends, Queen Latifah Chuck D, Method Man, E-40 and eight others cited The Sugarhill Gang’s “Rapper’s Delight” as the first rap song they heard. But not all were hooked on the new musical style by that track, and their answers reveal the sense of discovery that marked rap’s early years.

    Hip-hop’s roots are traced to 1973 in the Bronx and it took a few years before rap records emerged — “Rapper’s Delight” was a major catalyst for introducing rap music to a much broader audience.

    Here are the stories of a dozen hip-hop stars who got hooked on the genre around the time “Rapper’s Delight” ruled. In part two, another group of legends and young stars reminisce about connecting with rap by hearing songs by acts like Tupac Shakur, Grandmaster Flash, 2 Live Crew, or Run-D.M.C.

    Chuck D

    As a sophomore at Adelphi University, Chuck D was about to hit the stage to perform over the melody of Chic’s “Good Times” at a party in October 1979.

    At least, that’s what he thought.

    When he stepped behind the microphone, Chuck D heard a different version of the song. It kept going and going for — 15 minutes straight.

    “I get on the mic to rock the house. Then all of a sudden, I hear words behind me as I’m rockin’. I lipsync. The words keep going. (Expletive) are rockin’ for like 20 minutes,” said Chuck D, a member of the rap group Public Enemy who created “ Fight the Power,” one of hip-hop’s most iconic and important anthems.

    “After it’s all over, cats are giving me high pounds like ‘You went on and on to the break of dawn dawg,’” he continued. “Back then, it’s about how long you can rap. I went and turned to the DJ and looked at the red label that said ‘Sugarhill Gang ‘Rapper’s Delight.’ I was like ’Oh, they finally did it.’ They were talking all summer long that rap records were going to happen.”

    He was stunned: I was, like, ’It’s inconceivable. How could a rap be a record?′ I couldn’t see it. Nobody could see it. And then when it happened, boom.”

    Queen Latifah

    For Queen Latifah, “Rapper’s Delight” was the first rap song she and a lot of others heard and memorized where she grew up in Newark, New Jersey. But the biggest record in her world as a kid was Afrika Bambaattaa and the Soul Sonic Force’s 1982 song “ Planet Rock. ”

    While the Oscar-nominated actor can be seen chasing bad guys on CBS’ “The Equalizer,” many forget her roots as a rapper, with hits like “U.N.I.T.Y. and “Just Another Day.”

    “It changed the sound,” she said. “It’s more of a synthesized, 808s, hi-hats. The whole sound of it was different. Some of hip-hop in the original days was live music. It was live bands playing break records. Like ‘Good Times’ was the beat to ‘Rapper’s Delight.’ Some of those records took actual disco records, played the music and rhymed to them.”

    E-40

    While heading to school as a seventh grader in 1979, E-40 heard a new rap tune on a local radio station that normally played R&B and soul music in Northern California.

    It was “Rapper’s Delight,” which interpolated Chic’s hit “Good Times.” That’s when he knew hip-hop was going to be a part of his life forever.

    “I was like ‘Ohh, this is hard. I’m hooked,’” said E-40, who recalled the moment while driving to Franklin Middle School in Vallejo, California. He and fellow rapper B-Legit used to sport the same kind of fedora hats and big gold rope chains Run-D.M.C. performed in.

    “From then on, I loved rap. In 1979, when I first heard The Sugarhill Gang, I wanted to be a rapper. I would play around with it. … We grew up on New York rap. All of us did. We wanted to be hip-hop. We wanted to breakdance. We did it all.

    “But that changed everything after we heard Sugarhill Gang. Next thing you know, you’re hearing Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Kurtis Blow and Roxannne, Roxanne.”

    Lil Jon

    “Rapper’s Delight” was probably the first hip-hop song Lil Jon heard. But he became a “super fan” of the genre as a middle schooler in Atlanta after seeing rap groups the Fat Boys and Whodini. It was his first time seeing professional rappers onstage.

    “I might have been a fan of rap before, but I had never been to a rap concert. I’ve never seen rappers in person,” he said. “Maybe just in the magazines. That turned me into like. … a super fan of hip-hop.”

    The first hip-hop record Lil-Jon bought was Run D.M.C.’s “Sucker M.C.’s (Krush-Groove 1).”

    “I remembered my homeboy that lived in the neighborhood. I had to go through some woods to his house with the album,” he said. “We put the album on at his house. We were going crazy over listening to lyrics and beats.”

    Roxanne Shante

    Roxanne Shante’s first rap experience didn’t come in song form. She was introduced to hip-hop through the late comedian-poet Nipsey Russell.

    “He had the ability to rhyme at any time,” said Shante, a host for SiriusXM’s Rock the Bells Radio. At age 14, she became one of the first female rappers to become popular after her song “Roxanne’s Revenge” and gained more notoriety as a member of the Juice Crew. She also took part in Roxanne Wars, which was a series of hip-hop rivalries in the mid-1980s.

    Shante said “Rapper’s Delight” was the record most parents brought into their home as the “party song.” But in her mind, Russell had just as much of an impact.

    “That would be my first encounter with loving what would become hip-hop,” she continued. “This way of having a certain cadence, this way of being able to do these certain rhymes was just incredible to me. … He was able to freestyle all day, every day. And that’s who I am. That’s what I still do today.”

    Too Short

    It’s 1979. Too Short was around 13 years old. He normally listened to a variety of funk songs ranging from the Ohio Players’ “Love Rollercoaster” and Funkadelic’s “Knee Deep.” Then one day at his father’s house, he heard “Rapper’s Delight” blaring through a stereo system.

    “I was on my funk stuff, then this ‘Rapper’s Delight’ record came out and it was like 15 minutes long,” he recalled. “I’d be at my pop’s house just bumping the loud stereo.”

    As “Rapper’s Delight” gained momentum in 1980, Too Short gravitated more toward beatboxing. That led him to hit up the local record store where he would buy the latest hip-hop album then blasted it on his radio for anyone to hear in Oakland.

    “I had to get a radio with two speakers. That was mandatory,” he said. “I was the guy with the radio who was hitting play going ‘You ain’t never heard that before.’ … I had the whole room, the whole bus jumping.”

    Doug E. Fresh

    Hearing “Rapper’s Delight” for the first time changed the trajectory of Doug E. Fresh’s life.

    “I remember when my sister came home and told me about a guy named D.J. Hollywood, who we considered the first real M.C.,” he said. “She came home and told me about a rap he had. And the rap went, ‘Ding, ding, ding, ding, dong, dong, dong the dang, the dang, dang, dang, the ding dong dong. To the hip hop. …’”

    Fresh then added: “I turned around and said, ‘Teach me that, show me.’ And after that, it’s been me and hip-hop since that point.”

    DJ Kid Capri

    DJ Kid Capri, arguably one of hip-hop’s most famous DJs in the ‘90s, grew up on soul music. His father was a soul singer. His grandfather played the trumpet. And his uncle, Bill Curtis, was the leader of the Fatback Band — which he says made the first hip-hop single “ King Tim III (Personality Jock) ” before “Rapper’s Delight” was released a few months later in 1979.

    Capri’s uncle gave him the opportunity to hear a rap song for the first time.

    “I was right there,” Capri said about the Fatback Band, a funk and disco ensemble who became known for their R&B hits including “(Do the) Spanish Hustle,” “I Like Girls” and “I Found Lovin’.” But it was “King Tim III” that had a strong influence on him — especially since it came from family.

    “The world thinks ‘Rapper’s Delight’ was the first rap record, but it was ‘Personality Jock,’” he said. “My uncle, he’s my family. He’s the one that did it. So, I’ve always been around it. That’s what made me be so infectious in it, because I’ve seen every level to where I’m at right now. I took all those things important to me on stage right now. When you see me on stage, you can see all those things wrapped up in me.”

    Method Man

    Yes, “Rapper’s Delight” was the first-ever rap song Method Man ever heard. But the first hip-hop song that really resonated with him was Run-D.M.C.’s “ Sucker MCs (Krush-Groove 1 ).”

    “I had never heard this record and I thought I was up on everything at the time,” Method Man said of the 1983 song, which proceeded Run-D.M.C.’s first single “It’s Like That” from their self-titled album. He said “Sucker MCs” helped pave a way to usher in a new school of hip-hop artists.

    “We were on a sixth-grade class trip to Long Island, and everybody was singing it word-for-word,” the “Power Book II: Ghost” actor remembered. “They must have played that record 24 times on our class trip.”

    Big Daddy Kane

    Around age 12, Big Daddy Kane might not have remembered all of his homework assignments, but he certainly could recite every lyric to the late Jimmy Spicer’s 1980 song “ Adventures of Super Rhymes,” one of hip-hop’s first songs recorded in a studio.

    Kane heard “Rapper’s Delight” first, but Spicer’s storytelling on the 15-minute song resonated with him the most.

    “When this song came out, just the way Jimmy Spicer was styling on them and telling the story about Dracula and a story about Aladdin, I thought it was real slick,” he said.

    DJ Jazzy Jeff

    DJ Jazzy Jeff always had an affinity for music. But when the “Fresh Prince of Bel-Air” star heard “Rapper’s Delight” for the first time, he felt like the song spoke to him like no other.

    “I think that was the first time I felt like the music was mine,” he said. “Before then, I loved the music, but the music was kind of my older brothers and sisters, and I just liked it because it was theirs. This was the one that somebody made just for me.”

    Jermaine Dupri

    Jermaine Dupri couldn’t have envisioned his successful career without listening to “Rapper’s Delight” around the age of 10.

    “I remember the lyrics of the song. I remember it like it was yesterday,” said Dupri, a rap mogul who was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 2018. “I just started learning the song. I never knew it was going to take me on this journey.”

    LOS ANGELES: Remember the first rap song you heard? Some of your favorite rappers and DJs certainly do.

    While hip-hop celebrates 50 years of life, The Associated Press asked some of the genre’s most popular artists to recall their first memory of hearing rap and how the moment resonated with them.

    In interviews with more than two dozen hip-hop legends, Queen Latifah Chuck D, Method Man, E-40 and eight others cited The Sugarhill Gang’s “Rapper’s Delight” as the first rap song they heard. But not all were hooked on the new musical style by that track, and their answers reveal the sense of discovery that marked rap’s early years.googletag.cmd.push(function() {googletag.display(‘div-gpt-ad-8052921-2’); });

    Hip-hop’s roots are traced to 1973 in the Bronx and it took a few years before rap records emerged — “Rapper’s Delight” was a major catalyst for introducing rap music to a much broader audience.

    Here are the stories of a dozen hip-hop stars who got hooked on the genre around the time “Rapper’s Delight” ruled. In part two, another group of legends and young stars reminisce about connecting with rap by hearing songs by acts like Tupac Shakur, Grandmaster Flash, 2 Live Crew, or Run-D.M.C.

    Chuck D

    As a sophomore at Adelphi University, Chuck D was about to hit the stage to perform over the melody of Chic’s “Good Times” at a party in October 1979.

    At least, that’s what he thought.

    When he stepped behind the microphone, Chuck D heard a different version of the song. It kept going and going for — 15 minutes straight.

    “I get on the mic to rock the house. Then all of a sudden, I hear words behind me as I’m rockin’. I lipsync. The words keep going. (Expletive) are rockin’ for like 20 minutes,” said Chuck D, a member of the rap group Public Enemy who created “ Fight the Power,” one of hip-hop’s most iconic and important anthems.

    “After it’s all over, cats are giving me high pounds like ‘You went on and on to the break of dawn dawg,’” he continued. “Back then, it’s about how long you can rap. I went and turned to the DJ and looked at the red label that said ‘Sugarhill Gang ‘Rapper’s Delight.’ I was like ’Oh, they finally did it.’ They were talking all summer long that rap records were going to happen.”

    He was stunned: I was, like, ’It’s inconceivable. How could a rap be a record?′ I couldn’t see it. Nobody could see it. And then when it happened, boom.”

    Queen Latifah

    For Queen Latifah, “Rapper’s Delight” was the first rap song she and a lot of others heard and memorized where she grew up in Newark, New Jersey. But the biggest record in her world as a kid was Afrika Bambaattaa and the Soul Sonic Force’s 1982 song “ Planet Rock. ”

    While the Oscar-nominated actor can be seen chasing bad guys on CBS’ “The Equalizer,” many forget her roots as a rapper, with hits like “U.N.I.T.Y. and “Just Another Day.”

    “It changed the sound,” she said. “It’s more of a synthesized, 808s, hi-hats. The whole sound of it was different. Some of hip-hop in the original days was live music. It was live bands playing break records. Like ‘Good Times’ was the beat to ‘Rapper’s Delight.’ Some of those records took actual disco records, played the music and rhymed to them.”

    E-40

    While heading to school as a seventh grader in 1979, E-40 heard a new rap tune on a local radio station that normally played R&B and soul music in Northern California.

    It was “Rapper’s Delight,” which interpolated Chic’s hit “Good Times.” That’s when he knew hip-hop was going to be a part of his life forever.

    “I was like ‘Ohh, this is hard. I’m hooked,’” said E-40, who recalled the moment while driving to Franklin Middle School in Vallejo, California. He and fellow rapper B-Legit used to sport the same kind of fedora hats and big gold rope chains Run-D.M.C. performed in.

    “From then on, I loved rap. In 1979, when I first heard The Sugarhill Gang, I wanted to be a rapper. I would play around with it. … We grew up on New York rap. All of us did. We wanted to be hip-hop. We wanted to breakdance. We did it all.

    “But that changed everything after we heard Sugarhill Gang. Next thing you know, you’re hearing Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Kurtis Blow and Roxannne, Roxanne.”

    Lil Jon

    “Rapper’s Delight” was probably the first hip-hop song Lil Jon heard. But he became a “super fan” of the genre as a middle schooler in Atlanta after seeing rap groups the Fat Boys and Whodini. It was his first time seeing professional rappers onstage.

    “I might have been a fan of rap before, but I had never been to a rap concert. I’ve never seen rappers in person,” he said. “Maybe just in the magazines. That turned me into like. … a super fan of hip-hop.”

    The first hip-hop record Lil-Jon bought was Run D.M.C.’s “Sucker M.C.’s (Krush-Groove 1).”

    “I remembered my homeboy that lived in the neighborhood. I had to go through some woods to his house with the album,” he said. “We put the album on at his house. We were going crazy over listening to lyrics and beats.”

    Roxanne Shante

    Roxanne Shante’s first rap experience didn’t come in song form. She was introduced to hip-hop through the late comedian-poet Nipsey Russell.

    “He had the ability to rhyme at any time,” said Shante, a host for SiriusXM’s Rock the Bells Radio. At age 14, she became one of the first female rappers to become popular after her song “Roxanne’s Revenge” and gained more notoriety as a member of the Juice Crew. She also took part in Roxanne Wars, which was a series of hip-hop rivalries in the mid-1980s.

    Shante said “Rapper’s Delight” was the record most parents brought into their home as the “party song.” But in her mind, Russell had just as much of an impact.

    “That would be my first encounter with loving what would become hip-hop,” she continued. “This way of having a certain cadence, this way of being able to do these certain rhymes was just incredible to me. … He was able to freestyle all day, every day. And that’s who I am. That’s what I still do today.”

    Too Short

    It’s 1979. Too Short was around 13 years old. He normally listened to a variety of funk songs ranging from the Ohio Players’ “Love Rollercoaster” and Funkadelic’s “Knee Deep.” Then one day at his father’s house, he heard “Rapper’s Delight” blaring through a stereo system.

    “I was on my funk stuff, then this ‘Rapper’s Delight’ record came out and it was like 15 minutes long,” he recalled. “I’d be at my pop’s house just bumping the loud stereo.”

    As “Rapper’s Delight” gained momentum in 1980, Too Short gravitated more toward beatboxing. That led him to hit up the local record store where he would buy the latest hip-hop album then blasted it on his radio for anyone to hear in Oakland.

    “I had to get a radio with two speakers. That was mandatory,” he said. “I was the guy with the radio who was hitting play going ‘You ain’t never heard that before.’ … I had the whole room, the whole bus jumping.”

    Doug E. Fresh

    Hearing “Rapper’s Delight” for the first time changed the trajectory of Doug E. Fresh’s life.

    “I remember when my sister came home and told me about a guy named D.J. Hollywood, who we considered the first real M.C.,” he said. “She came home and told me about a rap he had. And the rap went, ‘Ding, ding, ding, ding, dong, dong, dong the dang, the dang, dang, dang, the ding dong dong. To the hip hop. …’”

    Fresh then added: “I turned around and said, ‘Teach me that, show me.’ And after that, it’s been me and hip-hop since that point.”

    DJ Kid Capri

    DJ Kid Capri, arguably one of hip-hop’s most famous DJs in the ‘90s, grew up on soul music. His father was a soul singer. His grandfather played the trumpet. And his uncle, Bill Curtis, was the leader of the Fatback Band — which he says made the first hip-hop single “ King Tim III (Personality Jock) ” before “Rapper’s Delight” was released a few months later in 1979.

    Capri’s uncle gave him the opportunity to hear a rap song for the first time.

    “I was right there,” Capri said about the Fatback Band, a funk and disco ensemble who became known for their R&B hits including “(Do the) Spanish Hustle,” “I Like Girls” and “I Found Lovin’.” But it was “King Tim III” that had a strong influence on him — especially since it came from family.

    “The world thinks ‘Rapper’s Delight’ was the first rap record, but it was ‘Personality Jock,’” he said. “My uncle, he’s my family. He’s the one that did it. So, I’ve always been around it. That’s what made me be so infectious in it, because I’ve seen every level to where I’m at right now. I took all those things important to me on stage right now. When you see me on stage, you can see all those things wrapped up in me.”

    Method Man

    Yes, “Rapper’s Delight” was the first-ever rap song Method Man ever heard. But the first hip-hop song that really resonated with him was Run-D.M.C.’s “ Sucker MCs (Krush-Groove 1 ).”

    “I had never heard this record and I thought I was up on everything at the time,” Method Man said of the 1983 song, which proceeded Run-D.M.C.’s first single “It’s Like That” from their self-titled album. He said “Sucker MCs” helped pave a way to usher in a new school of hip-hop artists.

    “We were on a sixth-grade class trip to Long Island, and everybody was singing it word-for-word,” the “Power Book II: Ghost” actor remembered. “They must have played that record 24 times on our class trip.”

    Big Daddy Kane

    Around age 12, Big Daddy Kane might not have remembered all of his homework assignments, but he certainly could recite every lyric to the late Jimmy Spicer’s 1980 song “ Adventures of Super Rhymes,” one of hip-hop’s first songs recorded in a studio.

    Kane heard “Rapper’s Delight” first, but Spicer’s storytelling on the 15-minute song resonated with him the most.

    “When this song came out, just the way Jimmy Spicer was styling on them and telling the story about Dracula and a story about Aladdin, I thought it was real slick,” he said.

    DJ Jazzy Jeff

    DJ Jazzy Jeff always had an affinity for music. But when the “Fresh Prince of Bel-Air” star heard “Rapper’s Delight” for the first time, he felt like the song spoke to him like no other.

    “I think that was the first time I felt like the music was mine,” he said. “Before then, I loved the music, but the music was kind of my older brothers and sisters, and I just liked it because it was theirs. This was the one that somebody made just for me.”

    Jermaine Dupri

    Jermaine Dupri couldn’t have envisioned his successful career without listening to “Rapper’s Delight” around the age of 10.

    “I remember the lyrics of the song. I remember it like it was yesterday,” said Dupri, a rap mogul who was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 2018. “I just started learning the song. I never knew it was going to take me on this journey.”

  • BET Awards show honors Busta Rhymes, hip-hop’s 50 years and pays tribute to Takeoff and Tina Turner

    By Associated Press

    LOS ANGELES: The 2023 BET Awards celebrated 50 years of hip-hop with tributes to the genre’s earliest voices, late legends, and new talent during a show packed with spectacular performances that consistently felt like a party.

    Sunday’s biggest surprise came when Quavo and Offset, the surviving members of Migos, performed “Bad and Boujee” in front of an image of Takeoff, who died in a shooting last December.

    “BET, do it for Take,” the duo shouted near the beginning of their set, as their backdrop switched from the image of a space shuttle to one of Takeoff pointing in the air.

    Throughout the show, whether it was Tupac, Notorious B.I.G., Biz Markie or Pop Smoke, performers and emcee Kid Capri paid homage to late hip-hop stars, often by quickly highlighting a taste of their best-known hits. In a show where few awards were given, Capri and BET kept the emphasis on the music.

    Busta Rhymes took home the night’s biggest honor, the Lifetime Achievement Award, handed to him by Swizz Beatz. The 12-time Grammy Award nominated rapper, producer, and pioneering hip-hop figure is widely regarded as one of the great MCs, with seven Top 10 Billboard Hot 100 hits to his name.

    Diddy, Janet Jackson, Chuck D, Missy Elliot, Pharrell Williams, and Mariah Carey recorded a video tribute to Rhymes.

    “Alright, Imma wear it on my sleeve. I do wanna cry,” Rhymes started his speech, as his eyes started to water. He talked about his six children, being kicked out from his hip-hop group Leaders of the New School, and learning how to rebuild by going into studios, sharing a cigar with whoever was in the studio, and “quickly whipping up a 16 bar verse. … By default, I pioneered the feature,” he said. “A lot of greatness from out people in our culture is by default. Because it’s just a magic we have.”

    An energetic tribute to Rhymes followed — the MC teamed up with Spliff Star for “Ante Up Remix”, “Scenario,” “Look At Me Now”, “I Know What You Want”, before a long list of A-listers jumped in: Scar Lip with “This Is New York”, Coi Leray with “Players,” BIA with “Beach Ball,” among them. Halfway through the performance, Rhymes shifted gears to celebrate dancehall alongside Dexta Daps “Shabba Madda Pot,” Spice, “So Mi Like It,” Skillibeng, “Whap Whap”, and CuttyRanks’ “A Who Seh Me Dun (Wait Deh Man).”

    Throughout the show, old school hip-hop heroes and modern stars mixed it up onstage, performing tracks celebrating rap’s most influential cities and innovation. For Miami, Trick Daddy and Trina rocked through “Nann” and Uncle Luke took on “I Wanna Rock (Doo Doo Brown).” For Atlanta, Jeezy ripped through “They Know”, T.I. hit “24’s,” and Master P did “No Limit Soldiers” into “Make ’Em Say Ugh.” And for hip-hop’s reggae influence, Jamaica’s Doug E. Fresh and Lil ’Vicious did an acapella version of “Freaks,” Mad Lion performed “Take It Easy,” and PATRA nailed “Romantic Call.”

    Capri spun some of Tupac’s “Hail Marry” to tease a crash course on West Coast rap: Warren G’s “Regulate,” Yo-Yo’s “You Can’t Play With My Yo-Yo,” Tyga’s “Rack City”, and E-40’s “Tell Me When To Go.”

    An ode to trap started with Capri spinning the late Pop Smoke’s “Dior”, before Chief Keef nailed “Faneto” and Ying Yang Twins did “Wait (The Whisper Song.”)

    Audience members, danced, sang along (and a few hopped up on stage) while Capri and MC Lyte keep the hostless show moving. It was a mostly hiccup-free show — save for a hitch during Patti LaBelle’s performance and the show running nearly four hours — particularly noteworthy for an event scheduled in the midst of the ongoing Hollywood writers’ strike.

    LaBelle honored the Tina Turner with a performance of the late singer’s hit “The Best,” telling the audience at one point she couldn’t see the words. “I’m trying, y’all!” she said before powering into the chorus.

    A masked Lil Uzi Vert opened the show at Los Angeles’ Microsoft Theater before it jumped into a quick history lesson. Capri walked the audience through a medley of the earliest days of New York City ’80s rap culture featuring The Sugarhill Gang’s “Rapper’s Delight,” MC LYTE’s “Cha Cha Cha”, D-NICE’s “Call ME D-Nice” and Big Daddy Kane’s “Raw,” into a partial cover of “Just A Friend,” an homage to the late great Biz Markie.

    “I would not be in this business on the stage tonight if it wasn’t for one person,” Big Daddy Kane said introducing the song. “Rest in peace.” He invited audience members to sing along to the song’s infectious chorus.

    ALSO READ | BET Awards: Stars use stage to strongly criticize Roe v. Wade ruling

    The coveted best new artist award went to Coco Jones, in a category that featured only female performers.

    “For all of my black girls, we do have to fight a little harder to get what we deserve,” she said in her acceptance speech. “But don’t stop fighting even when it doesn’t make sense. And you’re not sure how you’re going to get out of those circumstances. Keep pushing because we are deserving of great things.”

    It was followed by a supermarket-themed performance of AP’s pick for club song of the summer, Latto’s “Put It On Da Floor Again,” sans featured artist Cardi B but no less catchy. It ended with a text tribute: “RIP Shawty Lo,” a screen read.

    Teyana “Spike Tey” Taylor won video director of the year, which was accepted by her mom Nikki Taylor – like a true matriarch, she interrupted the show to videocall her daughter and let her have the moment.

    At the end of his acceptance speech, Rhymes urged the hip-hop community to “stop this narrative that we don’t love each other,” urging veteran musicians and newcomers alike to embrace one another.

    It was the perfect mirror for the night: New York rapper Ice Spice ran through abridged versions of “Munch (Feelin’ U),” “Princess Diana” and “In Ha Mood”; Glorilla brought “Lick Or Sum” to the BET stage, and Kali powered through her TikTok hit, “Area Codes.”

    In the audience, generations of hip-hop heavy-hitters cheered.

    LOS ANGELES: The 2023 BET Awards celebrated 50 years of hip-hop with tributes to the genre’s earliest voices, late legends, and new talent during a show packed with spectacular performances that consistently felt like a party.

    Sunday’s biggest surprise came when Quavo and Offset, the surviving members of Migos, performed “Bad and Boujee” in front of an image of Takeoff, who died in a shooting last December.

    “BET, do it for Take,” the duo shouted near the beginning of their set, as their backdrop switched from the image of a space shuttle to one of Takeoff pointing in the air.googletag.cmd.push(function() {googletag.display(‘div-gpt-ad-8052921-2’); });

    Throughout the show, whether it was Tupac, Notorious B.I.G., Biz Markie or Pop Smoke, performers and emcee Kid Capri paid homage to late hip-hop stars, often by quickly highlighting a taste of their best-known hits. In a show where few awards were given, Capri and BET kept the emphasis on the music.

    Busta Rhymes took home the night’s biggest honor, the Lifetime Achievement Award, handed to him by Swizz Beatz. The 12-time Grammy Award nominated rapper, producer, and pioneering hip-hop figure is widely regarded as one of the great MCs, with seven Top 10 Billboard Hot 100 hits to his name.

    Diddy, Janet Jackson, Chuck D, Missy Elliot, Pharrell Williams, and Mariah Carey recorded a video tribute to Rhymes.

    “Alright, Imma wear it on my sleeve. I do wanna cry,” Rhymes started his speech, as his eyes started to water. He talked about his six children, being kicked out from his hip-hop group Leaders of the New School, and learning how to rebuild by going into studios, sharing a cigar with whoever was in the studio, and “quickly whipping up a 16 bar verse. … By default, I pioneered the feature,” he said. “A lot of greatness from out people in our culture is by default. Because it’s just a magic we have.”

    An energetic tribute to Rhymes followed — the MC teamed up with Spliff Star for “Ante Up Remix”, “Scenario,” “Look At Me Now”, “I Know What You Want”, before a long list of A-listers jumped in: Scar Lip with “This Is New York”, Coi Leray with “Players,” BIA with “Beach Ball,” among them. Halfway through the performance, Rhymes shifted gears to celebrate dancehall alongside Dexta Daps “Shabba Madda Pot,” Spice, “So Mi Like It,” Skillibeng, “Whap Whap”, and CuttyRanks’ “A Who Seh Me Dun (Wait Deh Man).”

    Throughout the show, old school hip-hop heroes and modern stars mixed it up onstage, performing tracks celebrating rap’s most influential cities and innovation. For Miami, Trick Daddy and Trina rocked through “Nann” and Uncle Luke took on “I Wanna Rock (Doo Doo Brown).” For Atlanta, Jeezy ripped through “They Know”, T.I. hit “24’s,” and Master P did “No Limit Soldiers” into “Make ’Em Say Ugh.” And for hip-hop’s reggae influence, Jamaica’s Doug E. Fresh and Lil ’Vicious did an acapella version of “Freaks,” Mad Lion performed “Take It Easy,” and PATRA nailed “Romantic Call.”

    Capri spun some of Tupac’s “Hail Marry” to tease a crash course on West Coast rap: Warren G’s “Regulate,” Yo-Yo’s “You Can’t Play With My Yo-Yo,” Tyga’s “Rack City”, and E-40’s “Tell Me When To Go.”

    An ode to trap started with Capri spinning the late Pop Smoke’s “Dior”, before Chief Keef nailed “Faneto” and Ying Yang Twins did “Wait (The Whisper Song.”)

    Audience members, danced, sang along (and a few hopped up on stage) while Capri and MC Lyte keep the hostless show moving. It was a mostly hiccup-free show — save for a hitch during Patti LaBelle’s performance and the show running nearly four hours — particularly noteworthy for an event scheduled in the midst of the ongoing Hollywood writers’ strike.

    LaBelle honored the Tina Turner with a performance of the late singer’s hit “The Best,” telling the audience at one point she couldn’t see the words. “I’m trying, y’all!” she said before powering into the chorus.

    A masked Lil Uzi Vert opened the show at Los Angeles’ Microsoft Theater before it jumped into a quick history lesson. Capri walked the audience through a medley of the earliest days of New York City ’80s rap culture featuring The Sugarhill Gang’s “Rapper’s Delight,” MC LYTE’s “Cha Cha Cha”, D-NICE’s “Call ME D-Nice” and Big Daddy Kane’s “Raw,” into a partial cover of “Just A Friend,” an homage to the late great Biz Markie.

    “I would not be in this business on the stage tonight if it wasn’t for one person,” Big Daddy Kane said introducing the song. “Rest in peace.” He invited audience members to sing along to the song’s infectious chorus.

    ALSO READ | BET Awards: Stars use stage to strongly criticize Roe v. Wade ruling

    The coveted best new artist award went to Coco Jones, in a category that featured only female performers.

    “For all of my black girls, we do have to fight a little harder to get what we deserve,” she said in her acceptance speech. “But don’t stop fighting even when it doesn’t make sense. And you’re not sure how you’re going to get out of those circumstances. Keep pushing because we are deserving of great things.”

    It was followed by a supermarket-themed performance of AP’s pick for club song of the summer, Latto’s “Put It On Da Floor Again,” sans featured artist Cardi B but no less catchy. It ended with a text tribute: “RIP Shawty Lo,” a screen read.

    Teyana “Spike Tey” Taylor won video director of the year, which was accepted by her mom Nikki Taylor – like a true matriarch, she interrupted the show to videocall her daughter and let her have the moment.

    At the end of his acceptance speech, Rhymes urged the hip-hop community to “stop this narrative that we don’t love each other,” urging veteran musicians and newcomers alike to embrace one another.

    It was the perfect mirror for the night: New York rapper Ice Spice ran through abridged versions of “Munch (Feelin’ U),” “Princess Diana” and “In Ha Mood”; Glorilla brought “Lick Or Sum” to the BET stage, and Kali powered through her TikTok hit, “Area Codes.”

    In the audience, generations of hip-hop heavy-hitters cheered.

  • Ahead of the BET Awards, a look back at how the work helped hip-hop grow and thrive

    By Associated Press

    LOS ANGELES: “Rap City.” “106 & Park.” And even, “Uncut.”

    From innovative to provocative, BET has played a crucial role in creating several influential programs that helped spread hip-hop to millions of homes across the globe. Other than its rival show “Yo! MTV Raps,” the network known as Black Entertainment Television took up the mantle — despite some reluctance — to showcase a misunderstood rap culture decades before it became today’s most popular music genre.

    For many, BET became a safe place for those within hip-hop to express their artistry, although not without criticism. Through it all, the network has been a mainstay for established and emerging rap artists.

    It will all come together during the BET Awards on Sunday. Show officials plan to celebrate the genre’s 50th anniversary during the telecast dubbed as a “non-stop Hip-Hop Party.” It also comes at a pivotal time for the network, which will be soon be sold. Several Black entrepreneurs and celebrities, including Tyler Perry, media executive Byron Allen and rapper-entrepreneur Diddy, are interested in purchasing the network.

    The new owner will acquire an important cultural fixture, one whose success was partially built on how it elevated hip-hop.

    “BET was a big platform for hip-hop and urban music overall,” said E-40. His song “Tired of Being Stepped On” with the rap group The Click appeared on BET’s “Video Soul,” which was created in 1981 at a time when MTV refused to play videos by most African Americans. The rapper recalled how guest host Jamie Foxx dissed The Click’s song but the comedian’s critical words didn’t faze him. He felt his group gained important exposure to promote their “unorthodox” West Coast rap style.

    “The network really stepped up. We needed that,” said E-40, who also made a few appearances on another BET show called “Rap City,” which featured hip-hop music videos, interviews and freestyles booth sessions with big names including Jay-Z, Lil Wayne and MC Lyte. The show, which highlighted popular and up-and-coming rappers, became the longest-running hip-hop TV show in history.

    E-40 credited BET founder Robert Johnson for giving hip-hop a chance. Johnson built the brand into the leading TV network for Black Americans in hopes of creating content geared toward jazz, comedy and gospel. But at the time, he and other founders were unsure about featuring a rap show, believing the genre would be short lived.

    Rival MTV’s “Yo! MTV Raps,” however, showed that hip-hop had staying power.

    “After kind of a brief initial hesitancy, the founders of BET really understood how hip-hop was transforming culture overall and specifically Black entertainment,” said Scott M. Mills, BET’s president and CEO.

    “They rapidly embraced hip-hop as part of the mission of BET,” he said. “You went from BET having shows with no hip-hop artists or music to artists and music starting to trickle through shows to this full evolution of creating dedicated shows, celebrating hip-hop music, artists and culture.”

    BET’s decision to embrace hip-hop literally paid off: Johnson and his then-wife, Sheila, sold the network to Viacom in 2000 for $3 billion — which made them the nation’s first Black billionaires. He remained CEO until 2006.

    After the sale, BET continued to beef up its content with reality shows and the network’s flagship program “106 & Park,” a weekday show that started in 2000 and lasted for more than a decade. The show thrived with a video countdown, interviews and performances. A year later, the network started the BET Awards then the BET Hip-Hop Awards.

    For Lil Jon, he certainly benefitted from appearing on “106 & Park.” One day, the rapper-producer joined the show’s audience during the time when he had a hard time getting music on BET.

    Lil Jon had no clue “106 & Park” co-host A.J. Calloway would notice him sitting in the crowd before he shouted out his name. The exposure helped him become more recognizable, particularly to the BET brass — who he says initially struggled to grasp the concept of his crunk music, which eventually gained mainstream appeal.

    “We strived to be on ‘Rap City.’ We strived to be on ‘106 & Park,’” Lil Jon said. “A.J. knew who I was, because he would go to the South and host things. He knew the power of my music. … They would show me in the audience throughout the whole show. It was what they call an impression in the advertising world. It was a way for me to be around people at BET. They started to see and get familiar with me, and they wanted to look out for me. BET was just a place where we would get support from our community.”

    Like Lil Jon, other hip-hop artists took advantage of the exposure from BET — which often highlighted positive images of Black people through shows such as “Teen Summit” and “106 & Park.” But in the early-2000s, the network started to take an odd turn as several popular figures — from filmmaker Spike Lee to Public Enemy’s Chuck D — heavily criticized the channel’s content for depicting African Americans in a negative light.

    Many took aim at the now-defunct “BET: Uncut,” a late-night mature program that contained highly sexual content such as Ludacris’ “Booty Poppin” music video. The tipping point came after Nelly’s “Tip Drill” video featured women simulating sex acts with themselves while men grabbed their bodies.

    “Uncut” normally finished airing early Sunday just hours before the network’s faith-based programs began.

    At the time, Big Boi of Outkast was taken aback by some of the raunchy content, calling it “distasteful” and “soft porn.” Other political figures and activists showed their displeasure. Co-founder Sheila Johnson even said in a 2010 interview that she was ashamed of BET, suggesting that no one, including her own children, should watch the channel.

    After the backlash, BET took a new approach. The company researched what their viewers wanted to see and created a lineup of more family-oriented shows such as “Reed Between the Lines” and “Let’s Stay Together.”

    “If you look at it, hip-hop is like a huge family,” said Roxanne Shante. “You’re going to have family members that do things that’s necessarily not my thing.”

    “But who am I to criticize what they go through? It’s a form of expression,” said the “Roxanne’s Revenge” rapper. “I think BET has shown its ability to go with that form of expression. Now, people are expressing themselves in a different way. And now, they cater to a different audience and started to show different programming.”

    Despite controversy, Mills said a symbolic relationship was kept between BET and the hip-hop community. He said the network has a chance to break new artists through the BET Hip-Hop Awards while showcasing the more popular ones at the BET Awards. He shouted out veteran rapper and Oscar-nominated actor Queen Latifah, who recently hosted the NAACP Image Awards this year.

    “When you look at artists today, they’re profoundly talented,” he said. “The evolution of people deciding how they want to show up to the world is something that ultimately, I think we have to embrace. One thing about hip-hop, it’s always changing. We’re in the moment today, and that moment will evolve to whatever comes next.”

    Mills said BET is exploring ways to bring back “106 & Park” as a possible residency live show.

    With a new buyer looking to purchase BET soon, the network’s future focus and how much it emphasizes hip-hop will be closely watched.

    Rapper Too Short said BET should continue to serve the Black community’s needs.

    “’Teen Summit’ was the best show ever,” he said. “Just for kids to sit there and have an intellectual conversation every Saturday morning. That was amazing to see Black kids thinking intelligently and debating with each other and an audience tapping in.

    “I don’t know why anybody doesn’t think that kind of programming is needed right now. I think BET just needs to be the community. Don’t show me an aspect. The whole thing. Be Black entertainment.” 

    LOS ANGELES: “Rap City.” “106 & Park.” And even, “Uncut.”

    From innovative to provocative, BET has played a crucial role in creating several influential programs that helped spread hip-hop to millions of homes across the globe. Other than its rival show “Yo! MTV Raps,” the network known as Black Entertainment Television took up the mantle — despite some reluctance — to showcase a misunderstood rap culture decades before it became today’s most popular music genre.

    For many, BET became a safe place for those within hip-hop to express their artistry, although not without criticism. Through it all, the network has been a mainstay for established and emerging rap artists.googletag.cmd.push(function() {googletag.display(‘div-gpt-ad-8052921-2’); });

    It will all come together during the BET Awards on Sunday. Show officials plan to celebrate the genre’s 50th anniversary during the telecast dubbed as a “non-stop Hip-Hop Party.” It also comes at a pivotal time for the network, which will be soon be sold. Several Black entrepreneurs and celebrities, including Tyler Perry, media executive Byron Allen and rapper-entrepreneur Diddy, are interested in purchasing the network.

    The new owner will acquire an important cultural fixture, one whose success was partially built on how it elevated hip-hop.

    “BET was a big platform for hip-hop and urban music overall,” said E-40. His song “Tired of Being Stepped On” with the rap group The Click appeared on BET’s “Video Soul,” which was created in 1981 at a time when MTV refused to play videos by most African Americans. The rapper recalled how guest host Jamie Foxx dissed The Click’s song but the comedian’s critical words didn’t faze him. He felt his group gained important exposure to promote their “unorthodox” West Coast rap style.

    “The network really stepped up. We needed that,” said E-40, who also made a few appearances on another BET show called “Rap City,” which featured hip-hop music videos, interviews and freestyles booth sessions with big names including Jay-Z, Lil Wayne and MC Lyte. The show, which highlighted popular and up-and-coming rappers, became the longest-running hip-hop TV show in history.

    E-40 credited BET founder Robert Johnson for giving hip-hop a chance. Johnson built the brand into the leading TV network for Black Americans in hopes of creating content geared toward jazz, comedy and gospel. But at the time, he and other founders were unsure about featuring a rap show, believing the genre would be short lived.

    Rival MTV’s “Yo! MTV Raps,” however, showed that hip-hop had staying power.

    “After kind of a brief initial hesitancy, the founders of BET really understood how hip-hop was transforming culture overall and specifically Black entertainment,” said Scott M. Mills, BET’s president and CEO.

    “They rapidly embraced hip-hop as part of the mission of BET,” he said. “You went from BET having shows with no hip-hop artists or music to artists and music starting to trickle through shows to this full evolution of creating dedicated shows, celebrating hip-hop music, artists and culture.”

    BET’s decision to embrace hip-hop literally paid off: Johnson and his then-wife, Sheila, sold the network to Viacom in 2000 for $3 billion — which made them the nation’s first Black billionaires. He remained CEO until 2006.

    After the sale, BET continued to beef up its content with reality shows and the network’s flagship program “106 & Park,” a weekday show that started in 2000 and lasted for more than a decade. The show thrived with a video countdown, interviews and performances. A year later, the network started the BET Awards then the BET Hip-Hop Awards.

    For Lil Jon, he certainly benefitted from appearing on “106 & Park.” One day, the rapper-producer joined the show’s audience during the time when he had a hard time getting music on BET.

    Lil Jon had no clue “106 & Park” co-host A.J. Calloway would notice him sitting in the crowd before he shouted out his name. The exposure helped him become more recognizable, particularly to the BET brass — who he says initially struggled to grasp the concept of his crunk music, which eventually gained mainstream appeal.

    “We strived to be on ‘Rap City.’ We strived to be on ‘106 & Park,’” Lil Jon said. “A.J. knew who I was, because he would go to the South and host things. He knew the power of my music. … They would show me in the audience throughout the whole show. It was what they call an impression in the advertising world. It was a way for me to be around people at BET. They started to see and get familiar with me, and they wanted to look out for me. BET was just a place where we would get support from our community.”

    Like Lil Jon, other hip-hop artists took advantage of the exposure from BET — which often highlighted positive images of Black people through shows such as “Teen Summit” and “106 & Park.” But in the early-2000s, the network started to take an odd turn as several popular figures — from filmmaker Spike Lee to Public Enemy’s Chuck D — heavily criticized the channel’s content for depicting African Americans in a negative light.

    Many took aim at the now-defunct “BET: Uncut,” a late-night mature program that contained highly sexual content such as Ludacris’ “Booty Poppin” music video. The tipping point came after Nelly’s “Tip Drill” video featured women simulating sex acts with themselves while men grabbed their bodies.

    “Uncut” normally finished airing early Sunday just hours before the network’s faith-based programs began.

    At the time, Big Boi of Outkast was taken aback by some of the raunchy content, calling it “distasteful” and “soft porn.” Other political figures and activists showed their displeasure. Co-founder Sheila Johnson even said in a 2010 interview that she was ashamed of BET, suggesting that no one, including her own children, should watch the channel.

    After the backlash, BET took a new approach. The company researched what their viewers wanted to see and created a lineup of more family-oriented shows such as “Reed Between the Lines” and “Let’s Stay Together.”

    “If you look at it, hip-hop is like a huge family,” said Roxanne Shante. “You’re going to have family members that do things that’s necessarily not my thing.”

    “But who am I to criticize what they go through? It’s a form of expression,” said the “Roxanne’s Revenge” rapper. “I think BET has shown its ability to go with that form of expression. Now, people are expressing themselves in a different way. And now, they cater to a different audience and started to show different programming.”

    Despite controversy, Mills said a symbolic relationship was kept between BET and the hip-hop community. He said the network has a chance to break new artists through the BET Hip-Hop Awards while showcasing the more popular ones at the BET Awards. He shouted out veteran rapper and Oscar-nominated actor Queen Latifah, who recently hosted the NAACP Image Awards this year.

    “When you look at artists today, they’re profoundly talented,” he said. “The evolution of people deciding how they want to show up to the world is something that ultimately, I think we have to embrace. One thing about hip-hop, it’s always changing. We’re in the moment today, and that moment will evolve to whatever comes next.”

    Mills said BET is exploring ways to bring back “106 & Park” as a possible residency live show.

    With a new buyer looking to purchase BET soon, the network’s future focus and how much it emphasizes hip-hop will be closely watched.

    Rapper Too Short said BET should continue to serve the Black community’s needs.

    “’Teen Summit’ was the best show ever,” he said. “Just for kids to sit there and have an intellectual conversation every Saturday morning. That was amazing to see Black kids thinking intelligently and debating with each other and an audience tapping in.

    “I don’t know why anybody doesn’t think that kind of programming is needed right now. I think BET just needs to be the community. Don’t show me an aspect. The whole thing. Be Black entertainment.”
     

  • UTFO rapper Kangol Kid dies at 55 after battle with cancer

    By Associated Press

    Kangol Kid, a member of the legendary hip-hop group UTFO, has died after a battle with colon cancer. He was 55.

    The family of Kangol Kid — whose real name is Shaun Shiller Fequiere — said in a statement that he died peacefully around 3 a.m. Saturday at a hospital in Manhasset, New York. He was diagnosed with cancer in February.

    Kid was known for often sporting the popular Kangol headwear and being a member of UTFO, which stands for Untouchable Force Organization.

    The four-member group was known for 1980s hits including “Roxanne, Roxanne” and “Ya Cold Wanna Be With Me.”

    Along with his hip-hop success, Kid became recognized for his efforts against breast cancer through the Mama Luke Foundation. Following his diagnosis, he had spoken publicly about the need for regular screening