My Radio
I remember when the radio sang the Siren’s song. The first time I fell in love with Hip-Hop.... F%ck that! I’m not going to tell you all when I fell in love with Hip-Hop. Or, why I fell in love with Hip-Hop... However, I will tell you why I still love Hip-Hop...
Ummmgh Ummgh... I have had many experiences in life -- most good, some bad. Throughout all this, Hip-Hop was there for me. It cared for me. It was the ointment for my bruises and the alcohol for my cuts. It scarred my heart like an abusive lover scars the soul of a loved one. It was my truth and it was my lie. It changed while I changed. It was the echo in my rites of passage.... But, one day all of that disappeared!?!
For the first time in my life, I was alive... Resurrected as a transformed person. Then, I was struck by the fact that Hip-Hop was my song during my infancy... Standing as an individual, I realized that Hip-Hop is the lover of the lost human condition. Hip-Hop became a tool for my expression instead of me being it’s tool. Wondering what caused this seismic shift in my heart? It dawned on me that I didn’t love Hip-Hop... I really loved myself and my expression of life was formulated and experienced in Hip-Hop. As a young person, I became the suitor for everything Black. I felt Andre Benjamin’s line, “It is the Black Experience.” It was rebel music. It was rebel art. It was rebel dance. It was rebel culture. I am not a rebel rouser, but rebellion leads to something that I love more than Hip-Hop. And that my friend is change. Change to me is the heroin in my life. As a result, I have always been on the forefront for setting trends. I am not an early adaptor. I am what people must adapt to in order to reach their pinnacle of proverbial “coolness.” It was Hip-Hop that taught me that lesson. Not to dance to the drummer, but vibe to my own beat.
It was the fad of Hip-Hop that I loved... I hoped that one day it would die and birth something even better. I was hoping that it would continually change with the increase of popularity... I was hoping the messages contained in it would be as rich as Shakespeare’s sonnets, James Baldwin’s words or as calculated as Langston Hughes’ poetry or as perfect as the words whispered to me by the muse in darkness.
Currently in a state of delusion and devilment, Hip-Hop is still changing. It is fueled by the desire to survive in a world trekking toward global exploitation. It is the Black experience translated into many languages. It is consumed by people for the same reasons it is created by one people. Hip-Hop poetically is Love’s hidden desire to hate, and Hate’s secret to love. Hip-Hop dies everyday in my heart. With an inevitable urge to rise again. I didn’t fall in love with Hip-Hop because that was the cool thing to do. Nor, did I hate Hip-Hop for not reflecting me. I love Hip-Hop because it is change. It is the lowest common denominator and the highest thought in one. It is confusion in perfected organization.
It is me... And, that is why I still love Hip-Hop... Not, to love myself would be uncivilized. Hip-Hop projects my frequency for everyone to hear.
Cheers,
UL
Friday, November 10, 2006
