Until recently, I’d stopped listening to rap music. I was pretty young when I realized I took a liking to it, but a lot of the mainstream stuff lacked the substance I was looking for. I always found myself either avoiding it, listening to older rap songs that were somewhat but not too too relevant, or just ignoring the content and listening for flow and background music which, for a music head like me, is only 2/3 of the experience. So, unsatisfactory.
It was actually my introduction to K-Hip-Hop that got me back into listening to rap music. And don’t worry; this isn’t gonna be another K-Hip-Hop post. OR WILL IT?
Most of us can agree that Clinton’s written enough of those for the entire Boylan Blog, but don’t worry, I’ve gotten the seal of approval to continue the legacy. Just not in this post lol.
BUT, K-hip-hop did reawaken my exploration of the worlds of hip-hop/rap music both overseas and here in the U.S., as well as the unique stories rappers feel are important to tell. Then I stumbled upon this:
In this song, Humble the Poet, a Canadian rapper and Youtuber raps about contemporary cyber culture and the affect he sees it having on himself, his current life in L.A., and social justice.
My favorite part about this isn’t necessarily just the lyrics or the subject matter, but how the video pays an aesthetic service to the song as well. Both the song and the music video are fairly light-hearted, and the video uses the elements of L.A. that it criticizes to serve and maintain that light-heartedness. On top of that, the video’s quite innovative, and looks like it could’ve been shot on something as simple as an iPhone. From the far away shots of the funky locations to the snapchat filters, I find that I’m able to not only hear but see Humble’s personal account of a matter he finds relevant, and that’s relevant to all of us.
Humble may not be able to notice palm trees anymore, but he sure is noticing something much more important. He’s using his voice to say something he feels matters. I think that’s what I was looking for more of in rap music, and though I wasn’t finding much of it in the mainstream, it was still out there. And the existence of those voices alone is more than enough for them to matter.
Staying trill,
Nathalie D.
The Junction Journal 