“If hip hop is
about the
people, and
hip hop won’t
get better until
the people
get better, then
how do people
get l)etter?”
-jVIos Def
gressive, substantive hard-edged
drum-n-bass acts. And, as its title
suggests, this record fits both Mos
Def’s reputation for social and
musical clairvoyance and the
Rawkus Records “raw cuts” bill.
As the third track on the album,
“Love,” tells us, Mos was born
December 11, 1973 and spent the
first ten years of his life in New
York City’s Roosevelt Housing
Projects in Queens before moving
to Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn.
“Love” offers a poignant picture of
the young Mos, whose family
name is Dante Beze, as a little boy
discovering his passion on New
York’s first-ever rap program on
Kiss FM: “I listened to the Rap
Attack and held the radio close.” It
also gives us a glimpse into this
artist’s ethereal reverence for both
family and music. “My folks said
they was in love when they made
me/ I took the love they made me
with to make rhymes and beats.”
The anthem and album that fol
low are historic, poetic and devout
vigils on life and blackness that
bypass the crass materialism, vio
lence, misogyny and excessive
vanity of much of today’s main
stream hip hop. Mos’s sensibility
builds on the racial and social jus
tice themes championed on the
earlier Kweli-”Black Star,” collab
oration, one which was noted by
critics for its Marcus Garveyesque
quality. But “Black on Both Sides”
adds to its critique of America’s
persistent neglect and/or persecu
tion of inner city blacks medita
tions on how life might improve
for this segment of society.
“If hip hop is about the people,
and hip hop won’t get better until
the people get better,” Mos says on
the introductory track, “then how
do people get better?
People get better when
they start to under
stand that they are
valuable. And they not
valuable because they
got a whole lotta
money or because
somebody think they
sexy, but they valuable
because been created
by God.” This shot of
‘positivity’ is not only
a manifestation of
Mos’s dedication to
Islam, but is also a
direct challenge to the
prevailing themes of
today’s mainstream hip
hop.
But this is not to
say that Mos is about
rainbows and happy
times. Far from it.
“Black on Both Sides”
is infinitely aware of
the struggle of black
people in America. In
the song “Rock N
Roll,” the artist traces his musical
inheritance to the songs sung by
his ancestors: “My grandmomma
was raised on a reservation/ My
great-grandmomma was from a
plantation/ They sang songs for
inspiration/ The sang songs for
relaxation/ They sang songs to take
their minds off that f—ed up situ
ation.”
Apart from putting hip hop in
line with old the folk spirituals
sung by Native Americans and
African-American slaves, “Rock
and Roll” makes the controversial
case that all rock and ron - Elvis
Presley and the Rolling Stones
included — is derived from the
music of “those folks whose backs
got broke/ Who fell down inside
the gun smoke/ (Black people!)
Chains on they ankles and feet.” It
also implies that absolutely NO
music by whites “has soul.”
James Brown go plenty of soul
James Brown like to rock and roll
He can do all that sh-fo’ sho’
That Elvis Presley could never know
Kenny G ain’t got no souullll
John Coltrane is rock and roll
You may dig on the Rolling Stones
But they could never rock
like Nina Simone
That Kenny G “ain’t got no
soul” is indubitable. But some
might contest Mos’s divisive com
mentary about race and rock and
roll music. Even if he’s right, it’s
December 1999
14