Hip Hop: The Unifying Factor

Article by Bianca M. White
Photo of Dice Raw by Bianca M. White

The days of the Hiphop emcee, who rhymed simply to maintain his or her lyrical reign, has come and gone—well not completely. With the commodification and exploitation of Hiphop culture by big business over the last decade, the emcee has had to shoulder myriad roles in order to make a living off his or her music.

The emcee—the commodity—has had to become a politician, businessperson, entertainer and the lyrical/visual liaison between the ‘hood that he/she reps and white America—the consumer.

I recently spoke about this situation with Dice Raw, my good friend and world-renowned Philadelphia emcee. We discussed a number of issues that surround Hiphop today compared to twenty-five years ago. The main issue that perplexed him, however, was his perception that his fans were “smarter” than he was.

Dice reminisced about a performance in 1995 at Urban Plaza in New York where he was so shocked to hear the audience recite his lyrics that he forgot the lyrics to his own song. He couldn’t believe that the audience was reciting the lyrics along with him. Dice began to freestyle and the crowd went wild. That night Dice came to understand that he not only appealed to the street audience, but to a multitude of demographics.

Dice described his fan base as predominantly white and male--and educated. He recalled a meeting following a show: “Yeah, we were just chillin’ and these cats rolled up talking ‘bout how dope the shit was, one of the kids was like ‘yo man, I really dig your shit. Ya know I’m goin’ to Harvard in the Fall, will the tour be coming up to Boston?’ And I’m thinkin’ Harvard? They really like this shit?” I told Dice that their expensive academic higher learning was different but not necessarily better than his North Philly ‘hood upbringing. “But those muthafuckas are really smart and shit,” Dice replied.

Understandably Dice was surprised if not startled by these encounters with fans that he deemed “smarter.” Yeah, he was a gifted lyricist and his beats were tight, but his art came from a place that he thought these white boys knew nothing about. Dice came from a small corner of North Philadelphia called Logan, one of the most dangerous areas in the city. Dice knew that many of the ills he faced growing up, poverty in particular, was not only because of his Mom’s low-paying job, but also ultimately because he was Black in America. Did these college students understand that they did have a connection to him? Did they understand that they had privilege he knew nothing about because he was Black?

Now as a professional with a solo album and guest appearances on mix tapes and LPs from Philly to Tokyo under his belt, Dice continues work on his second album. He knows the difference between himself and his fans, and he strives to challenge them with the nature of his complex lyrics—a challenge for them to “play their positions” as components assisting to disassemble a hegemonic system. Dice claims less a sense of obligation to his “real Hip Hop” fans, and more an obligation to Hiphop and himself. The emcee also acknowledges different fans are attracted to his “street image” in favor of his lyrical capabilities.

Ultimately Dice’s experience as a professional emcee has been positive. When he encounters most of his fans, Dice acknowledges their sincerity in understanding his lyrics but not necessarily their empathizing with his experience. Perhaps Hiphop is a somewhat unifying factor for both traditionally privileged and marginalized groups.

However, the question remains: If Dice’s fan base is able to understand where he’s coming from, are they moved to act in order to effect positive societal change? If these “college kids” understand being “locked down in a cell under the ground,” are they willing to acknowledge their privilege in relation to Dice’s marginalization as a Black emcee?

Dice asserts, “When I do a show, there are Blacks, Whites, Asians, Latinos…everybody’s in the audience. Hip Hop is everybody. When Mariah Carey puts Mobb Deep on a remix, that’s a result of Hip Hop. When Brittany Spears goes to Timbaland and the Neptunes to produce her tracks, that’s all a result of Hip Hop. White kids buyin’ Hip Hop is nothin’ new.”

I debated with Dice that other entities such as large music distribution companies were controlling the artist, but Dice maintained, “Ultimately the artist controls the direction of the music, and despite the haters, Hip Hop is at the forefront of the entire industry. We got it locked.”

Contact: Bianca M. White-Filmmaker/Photographer biancawhite@hotmail.com 215.668.7134

Contact: Dice Raw-Hip Hop Artist www.diceraw.com www.okayplayer.com