Rap Appreciation

Since finally allowing myself to admit that ‘professional writer’ is the career path I intend to pursue, I’ve often wondered about exactly what influences me the most, what inspires me. That might seem like an odd thing to speculate on, since inspiration and influence are often regarded as fairly direct stimuli, but I think that when you’re in a creative mindset you’re not necessarily directly aware of what reactants are causing your brain to spark. Everyone approaches the creative process in different ways, they have their own tricks and methods, some people like to write out numerous drafts, make intricately detailed plans and character profiles and there are myriad recommendations out there for ways to combat writer’s block.

Poetry is a completely different affair, when ideas come similar things happen but I find that even when I feel like I’m forcing it, if I hone in on a central idea or concept, the words come to me very quickly and very naturally. That’s why when I’m considering my sources of inspiration in the context of my poems, my mind always turns to rap. Last year a poet I was quite fond of named Seamus Heaney passed away and Radio 4 played the entirety of his version of Beowulf as a means of paying tribute (being read by him personally). Something struck me about the reading that always nags at me when I hear things like that, the reading was very cold and very monotonous to the extent to which it made it feel as if the poem had more merit as a reading piece; and this is one of the most ancient and famous tales in human history.

There certainly appears to be a very viable rift between poetry as a form of literature and as a kind of performance art, yet the two stand comfortably side-by-side, I went to a reading about 7 years ago that featured both the booming, bombastic wonder of people like John Agard and the washed-out, humorless drawl of Carol-Anne Duffy on the same stage within minutes of each other. The latter approach is all well and given that I rarely read my own work and tend to opt for the cold reading approach when I do, I’m kind of obliged to tolerate it but as far as I’m concerned the most pure, hot, near-perfect poetry serves as a sort of missing link between storytelling and music. This is where rap comes in, as far as I’m concerned the vast majority of the prominent poets out there in the world today are emcees.

I can imagine that statement warranting a lot of scoffing in some circles, for how popular it is, rap is still maligned as crass, unrefined and very far south of intellectual by many. ‘Many’ don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about. Given my adoration of the English language and the ways it can be crafted and shaped into wonderful, evocative and entrancing shades and shapes it might surprise some people to learn that I’m a massive fan of hip-hop, gangster rap and even grime. I’m as enthusiastic about the lyrical aptitude of Shakespeare, Kerouac, Dickens and Joyce as I am about KRS-One, Doom, Biggie Smalls, Lupe Fiasco, Immortal Technique, Aesop Rock and many others. The natural progression from Poetry Slams to Rap Battles is easy to map but even with that in mind, many people sanction certain (seemingly) more erudite members of the hip-hop world into a category that centres the Venn Diagram and leave the rest on the outside. People like Sage Francis and Saul Williams will always be subject to more high-brow consideration because they’ve actually written poetry as well as music, but I think that rap is worthy of that consideration almost without exception.

A while back there was a wonderful documentary helmed by Stephen Fry called ‘Planet Word’ which explored the breadth of language in all its versatility through many different contexts, such as swearing and naming. One of the episodes was focused on storytelling and examined literature and poetry in great detail. Towards the end of the episode music was touched upon and Sir Christopher Ricks of Boston University spent a while waxing lyrical about Bob Dylan and his ability as a writer. Ricks argued that Dylan deserved to be considered as talented a writer as the great authors and poets of the world and his work merited just as much study and scrutiny. He may have had a point but with this in mind I felt a bitter pang of disappointment that there wasn’t even a vague nod to rap music. There is as much power, innovation and imagination in that world as there is in the world of novels and poetry.

This is well accepted by many and it’s high time that Ricks and his ilk really took the time to study and dissect the deeper reaches of that world and that culture, because I can guarantee they’d find a goldmine of bona fide genius looking back at them. Stories began as performances, poets still perform their work and rappers perform theirs in transfixing, energetic ways that have created one of the youngest and most prominent cultural facets the world has to offer. Unfortunately it’s often shunned as a mere tawdry by-product of a violent, prejudiced, criminal world that deserves no recognition. As popular as rap is, it’s nowhere near as sacred as it should be and the fact that so much of it emanates from parts of the world where people have next to nothing and exist in an environment fraught with threat is anything but detrimental.

I’ll grant you that there is a great deal of rap out there that’s not doing itself any favours – the collective intellect of the world is probably being damaged by the crap that Lil’ Wayne and his entourage are doling out and as much as I love Kendrick Lamar and Eminem and appreciate that they are enormously talented performers, there’s a point when rapping about your own grandeur and little else or making wildly ignorant homophobic statements and then trying to appear self aware by talking about controversy (or comparing yourself to Elvis) just doesn’t gel anymore. They are the exception though, not the rule and bar lowering pretenders and cultural faux pas can devalue the power that rap has. You can’t understate the soulful honesty of ‘One Mic’ (Nas), the parable-like whimsy of ‘No Regrets’ (Aesop Rock), the spine chilling darkness of ‘Dance with the Devil’ (Immortal Technique), the visceral imagery of ‘Duel of the Iron Mic’ (GZA) or the amusing, inventive back and forth of ‘Let Me Watch’ (Viktor Vaughn). These are only a few examples and believe me I could riffle through more all day, but unfortunately I would probably starve and that wouldn’t be convenient.

Things are moving in the right direction to some degree: Neil Degrasse Tyson’s ‘Star Talk’ recently hosted GZA as a guest interviewee and he talked about having brought a new educational movement to inner-city schools in which rap is used as a conduit to teach kids about science. Allegedly, the results have been very promising and I’m not surprised; another teacher who appeared in that episode mentioned that one of his kids who would write verses about more typical subjects daily asked for a week’s extension on his deadline to write one about water because he needed that much time to study up on it so he had enough material to work from. That in and of itself is something I find extremely encouraging, rap is lyricism and lyricism is literature, which by definition is art. Rap has the potential to be the most potent marriage of passion, art and education in the world today and it’s been a source of inspiration for me just as much as any book or poem, I hope that in time more people will come to recognise that fact.