One thing I noticed when I moved over here was a major lack of hip-hop/rap music from the cultural zeitgeist (pardon my German). It didn’t feature on the radios, in the clubs as much, or at pre-drinks. I’m sorry, but I can’t have a pre-drink/house party/flip cup session without hearing Juicy by Notorious B.I.G. It’s not a question of will it be played because it will or I won’t be able to sleep at night.
In Edinburgh, it became apparent that the clubs favoured techno Eurobeats to Jay Z or Biggie. Not to say that they don’t get any airplay, but they are differently not on heavy rotation like back home. My roommates furthered my hypothesis by displaying very little knowledge of even the most well-known rap songs that anyone back home would not only know, but could probably belt out the choruses of. The only hip-hop related songs they knew included British artists in them (ex: Homecoming by Kanye but featuring Chris Martin). Doesn’t count, folks! It wasn’t just them though….I realized that the majority of British youth were equally deprived.
Imagine your teen years without Mase, KRS-One, Q-Tip, Ice Cube or Cam’ron? Or of not knowing Jay-Z, pre-Beyonce years? Of not driving aimlessly around the city blaring Big Pun and 50 Cent (sidebar: do British youth even drive their cars aimlessly like our Canadian car-culture kids do?). Imagine your university years without going to the club and seeing girls dance oh-so-dirtily to Get Low by Lil’ Jon. Or of never being asked to pass the courvoisier by Busta Rhymes? I can’t!!
The thing is, I’m not even a wanksta. In fact, I’m a whiter-than-white product of pool-in-the-backyard suburbia, not the offspring of inner-city-basket-ball-courts-filled-with-drug-dealers. Nor do I listen to this genre to be ironic, although I think that’s always going to be an unavoidable side-effect. I just like the music, I like the beat, I like the groove and it’s what I grew up with. On the radio, in your car, at the bars, on the soundtracks of our favourite movies and TV shows.
I’m not ripping on the Brits for this, at all. In fact, I feel bad for them. I guess maybe they’re too proper or too removed geographically from the hotspots that spawned this music and these artists. Sure, they have Dizzee Rascal and I’ve grown to love his songs in all their catchiness, but they’re distinctly British hip-hop. He’s no Biggie Smalls, but then who is? (*moment of silence, please*).
Rest be assured though, if you’re ever at a house party in London and you hear Juicy, you’re probably at my place. And like it or lump it, you’ll inevitably hear me singing along – as if I can relate to every word of his poverty-stricken-in-Brooklyn, rags-to-riches chronicle – because where I come from, that’s how we do.
