iVlos Def
Black on Both Sides
By Colleen Kenny
At any hour of the day, in
virtually any region of
America, you can steer
through a sea of mil
quetoast radio pop and land upon a
catchy drum-roll baseline laced
with a juicy loop from Billy
Preston, Bela Fleck or any of many
from a host of seventies funk-soul
classics. But beware your company
before you deign to call it “hip-
hop.” As any purist will tell you,
the stuff you’re finding on the
dial...the Sean “Puffy” Combs...the
Master P...Mase...Juvenile — the
chart-toppers - is largely short on
cogitation, tall on glimmer and
gloss and is processed for the
quick consumption of the uncriti
cal masses.
To hear the real hip hop, the
purist says, you must open your
ears and your mind to the rap
underground. It's not easy to find.
It is not out bouncing on a
Saturday night at the clubs, nor is
it what makes people nod their
heads while driving in the car. To
find it, you have to seek it out. To
hear it, you have to LISTEN, not
just hear it. it is three hundred
years in the making, and its heart
cannot be bound between the
grooves of a twelve-inch, it moves.
And, if you do manage to hear it,
don't expect too much. After all,
it’s just music. Says Brooklyn-hail-
ing genre Goliath Mos Def:
Hip hop will simply amaze you
Craze you, pay you
Do whatever you say do
But Black, it can't save you
Last month, Rawkus Records
released Mos Def's first full-blown
solo etTort, “Black on Both Sides.”
Before that, Mos's stufTwas either
aligned with the lyrical musings of
Talib Kweli on the March 1999
release “Black Star,” or it was
found only on singles in subter
ranean vinyl shops by the afore
mentioned purists. Rawkus is
known for its dedication to pro-
To hear the real hip hop,
ypu'must open your ears
and your mind to the rap
undei^round. ^
13
Black Ink