How ATL Hustled to Become the Capital of HipHop
emynd
830 Posts
Interesting article but I don't know how much I agree with it. I agree with the notion that part of the reason the ATL sound has become so commercially successful is because of it's versatility. But, while Outkast was and probably always will be a significant part of what helped bring Atlanta to prominence, and while I agree with the notion that nearly everything that's come out of Atlanta since them is in some significant way dependent on them, I think I'd argue that the story is significantly more complex than that. Doesn't stuff like snap and crunk music have much more to do with the early Atlanta Bass stuff (in which Lil Jon and JD's So So Def were obviously a part of and obviously has much more in common with Miami Bass than traditional Kool G Rap rap?) than anything to do with Outkast? Additionally, isn't the dark stuff and "Crunk" deeply influenced by the type of stuff going on in Memphis with 3 6 who, in many ways, pre-date Outkast? And isn't the Outkast aesthetic one that is much more "traditional" and or "real schitt"(in the NY sense of the word) than stuff like TI and Jeezy? Outkast has admitted to being very influenced by Hieroglyphics, which in it's own way is really weird, right? Southern rappers being influenced by a group of kids from East Oakland who themselves based their own sound on the east coast tradition, sounding a heck of a lot more like east coast rappers than Too Short and E-40.I dunno. Dude just sounds like he likes Outkast a whole lot.Any thoughts from real life Atlantians (Faux) or southern rap scholars (Harvey, noz, and yes, even deej)?-efrom the Faderhttp://www.thefader.com/features/2007/12/20/fader-50-atlanta-rapBOTTOM OF THE MAPHow Atlanta hustled up to become the capital of hip-hopStory Chris RyanPhotography Jonathan Mannion and Jason NocitoIn the cinematography documentary Visions of Light, some master lenscrafter (I think the dude who shot ET) posits that the introduction of sound to motion pictures in the 1920s set the artistic evolution of filmmaking back decades. When the camera was forced to adhere to the limits and needs of microphones, it could no longer go anywhere and do anything. People were listening. The same thing happens to music scenes and musical communities, especially in hip-hop. The intrusion of outside forces, even those with the best intentions, inevitably derails the natural progress. People are listening.Even with ink spilled and attention paid, the Bay and Houston never blew the way they were supposed to. Despite their rich histories and bright futures, hyphy and thizz and screw were bottled and sold as the sound of now. When they didn???t redraw any maps overnight, their moment passed.Atlanta, the capital of black America, was the first city to really pull hip-hop???s gaze from New York and Los Angeles and refocus the nation on the South and its sister cities like St Louis and New Orleans. Yet unlike these other cities, Atlanta achieved permanence???taking over with the span of its influence. Over the last seven years, no other place has simultaneously run the charts, the streets, the blogs, the barbershops, the nightclubs, the bedrooms, the boardrooms and the message boards. Like Motown before it, Atlanta, as an idea, is music???s shining city on the hill. ATL???s genius lies in potluck inclusiveness. It is an all-encompassing, full-service, pop Magic City/Magic Kingdom. It houses both super producers and ProTools amateurs. It???s got prom queens, trappers, girl groups and dance troupes. There are producers-turned-label-heads, DJs-turned-rappers, rappers-turned-hustlers, hustlers-turned-go-gettas. Fundamentally, Atlanta is about multiplicity and self-dependence. Rather than wait for major labels on the coasts to contextualize their southern culture, Atlanta developed a shadow-industry infrastructure that could support artists without the help of the conglomerates. Rather than let A&Rs dictate what constituted a club song, Atlanta created a more democratic???albeit sexualized???way of doing things. If the strippers at the Blue Flame (F42) or Club Blaze felt your track, then you had something. If not, it was back to the lab. In the process, ATL has fostered some of the decade???s definitive styles???from the energy drink of crunk to the sheen of Jazze Pha???s Pop & B (F22) to the utilitarian minimalism of snap. There???s no one sound that defines the city, not the way handclaps and basslines did for Motown???s Detroit, or echo did for Studio One???s Kingston. For the past 15 years, Atlanta???s reigning sound has been a relay race where the baton is sometimes passed, sometimes ganked and sometimes tossed into the air like the bone in 2001, floating down to Earth in the form of ???Do Yo Dance.??? You can hear Lil Jon in Toomp (F38) or Collipark in K-Rab, and you can also hear Jazze Pha listening to all of ???em and spitting it back out for happy hour at Applebee???s. Styles come and styles go and the amount of candles on Jermaine Dupri???s birthday cake stays the same, but nobody has ever branded the city the way Dre did LA or Preem did NY. At this point ???Atlanta??? is as much Mannie Fresh (F34) and Polow da Don (F45) as anyone else. It ain???t where ya from, its where ya studio???s at.The origins of Atlanta???s rise are difficult to pinpoint, but they probably began with Outkast (F05 and F18). By the time Andre Benjamin and Antwan Patton named their 1996 sophomore album ATLiens, they had already helped build Atlanta into hip-hop???s port of call. Along with their production team, Organzied Noize, and fellow travelers Goodie Mob, Benjamin and Patton formed the Dungeon Family, a southern answer to NYC???s Native Tongues. ATLiens was about stretching beyond the zones???Atlanta???s distinct neighborhoods, determined by which police precinct patrols them???into a universe of zooted funk, as envisioned by forefathers Sly Stone and George Clinton. It connected Atlanta, and hip-hop, to a musical tradition beyond the borders of time. Outkast was earnest and cynical, funny and somber, interstellar and street-level. Nearly all the Atlanta music that has been written since???from novelty tracks to trap house funeral marches???comes from them, a band that was anything to all people.Atlanta???s current rock stars TI and Young Jeezy (F40) follow this duality. Both recognize the powerful results that come from adopting a persona that is half drug dealing superhero/half flawed everyman. In the same way that Outkast walked the line between keeping it real and keeping it cosmic, TI and Jeezy truck in self-mythology with the same deft touch as they do self-awareness. Their depictions of Atlanta drug culture propose that it???s unlike any other place in the world, and at the same time, just like any street corner in America. They are both untouchable and tangible.When the dark reality of trap music became almost too much handle, as the monolithic beats of Toomp and Shawty Red threatened to block out the sun, Atlanta???s youth turned the chants of their concrete schoolyards with their embrace of snap music. Usually how-to dance tracks strike me as closet fascist propaganda aimed at those who can???t move with the intention of making them think they???re Johnny Gill, when in fact they???re just another brick in the wall doing the Macarena. But snap music is really about not giving a shit whether you learn all the moves, whether you lean with it when you???re supposed to be rocking with it. It???s more or less descended from the intimate club productions of Collipark, but it???s become far more than two creepy dudes talking about grudge Frickin' in hushed tones: snap strips rap down to its engine and wheels. And when it is on its shit???like Maceo???s (F33) ???Nextel Chirp,??? a slow-to-boil anthem about walkie-drug-talkie etiquette???snap takes that primary palette and goes Technicolor.As the music of Atlanta has continued to evolve and devolve and re-evolve into countless firestarters, somehow the city???s story always returns to Outkast. Last year Andre 3000 marked his return to rapping by jumping on a remix to UNK???s ???Walk It Out,??? which, at the time, was the latest ATL street classic to transform into a national hit. For the hundredth time, as he busted on rappers for the size of their enormous white tees and chastised them to make their mothers proud, Andre???s lyrics served as a challenge to rappers in the city and everywhere else: step your game up.But I really understood the legacy of Atlanta in 2005 at the Knitting Factory in New York during a CMJ showcase for Big Boi???s Purple Ribbon (F32) label. In many ways it was like any other rap show. When it actually started???2:30 AM or something???it was almost a pleasant surprise to a crowd who had already made its peace with the likelihood that Big Boi had found something better to do. And like a lot of rap shows, the sound was spotty, the songs were truncated and the hypemen were plentiful. But unlike any show I???ve ever been to, this one included one blessed 20-minute stretch of Outkast classics presented, rather than performed, by one half of the group. Without Andre 3000 it was like Southernplayalistickaraoke. But all the bullshit ceased when the beat for ???Elevators??? dropped. Big Boi didn???t sing it, he sang along. He knew what all of us knew???window to the wall, trap to the blog???that this was a folk song. Everybody who has ever breathed tainted air has tried to find a spot off in that light, a
light off in that spot???we loved that song. Forever we love Atlanta. We stay listening.
Comments
I could just quote this over and over but ill post some more thoughts later
Good rebuttal. I have no idea what your point is...
Only redeeming quality of article.
What a lazy waste of space and time. It reads like some dude in NY whipping together a bunch of commonly known facts and a bunch of flowery writing into a frothy cup of bs a couple hours before his deadline. Interview someone, dammit. Provide some information that we don't already know. That part about the 2005 CMJ conference? What does that have to do with Atlanta at all? Ooh, elevators is a folk song. It should be a tired cliche by now that music writers always call "x" folk music when they want to sound deep. Such a dead giveaway that this is some recent liberal arts bachelor hacking his way through the NY urban lifestyle magazine circuit.
Most hip hop writing still sucks in 07.
There's three other essays / photo galleries applying the same concept to other musical scenes that have been important to the magazine through the years: the island diaspora (reggae/reggaeton/offshoots), "new york rock," and the hollertronix axis of evil.
http://thefader.com/features/2007/12/17/fader-50-island-feature
http://thefader.com/features/2007/11/21/fader-50-new-york-rock
http://thefader.com/features/2007/12/3/fader-50-new-club
AMEN to that!!!
2 Live Crew and the Geto Boys put Southern rap firmly on the map.
2 Live Crew and the Geto Boys put Southern rap firmly on the map.
2 Live Crew and the Geto Boys put Southern rap firmly on the map.
2 Live Crew and the Geto Boys put Southern rap firmly on the map.
2 Live Crew and the Geto Boys put Southern rap firmly on the map.
2 Live Crew and the Geto Boys put Southern rap firmly on the map.
2 Live Crew and the Geto Boys put Southern rap firmly on the map.
2 Live Crew and the Geto Boys put Southern rap firmly on the map.
2 Live Crew and the Geto Boys put Southern rap firmly on the map.
2 Live Crew and the Geto Boys put Southern rap firmly on the map.
2 Live Crew and the Geto Boys put Southern rap firmly on the map.
2 Live Crew and the Geto Boys put Southern rap firmly on the map.
2 Live Crew and the Geto Boys put Southern rap firmly on the map.
2 Live Crew and the Geto Boys put Southern rap firmly on the map.
2 Live Crew and the Geto Boys put Southern rap firmly on the map.
2 Live Crew and the Geto Boys put Southern rap firmly on the map.
2 Live Crew and the Geto Boys put Southern rap firmly on the map.
2 Live Crew and the Geto Boys put Southern rap firmly on the map.
2 Live Crew and the Geto Boys put Southern rap firmly on the map.
2 Live Crew and the Geto Boys put Southern rap firmly on the map.
Right from jump, dude's article title borrows from Lil Wayne...a rapper from New Orleans.
"Intrusion"??? "Derails"???
The Bay blew back in '88 by way of Too $hort...long before hyphy ever came about. And Houston blew in '91 by way of the Geto Boys...before DJ Screw started releasing grey tapes.
But as far as the latest generations of Bay and Houston musics becoming momentarily trendy within the past few years...I'm tired of fools portraying what has in fact gone down as a fleeting spike in sales as a failure rather than an added bonus.
Not sure why the successes of No Limit, Cash Money, and Nelly would owe anything to Atlanta.
That paragraph could've been applied to the Bay and Houston before it ever could have applied to Atlanta.
Isn't Jazze Pha from Memphis? And what dude is pointing out as Atlanta's strength can also be pointed out as their weakness...which is that Atlanta is like a clearinghouse of styles already developed in other cities. There are far too many great artists in Atlanta to label them all biters, but if the shoe fits...
I love Outkast to the fullest, but have never understood the tendency to credit them for being so influential on the sound of the South. As others have already mentioned, Three 6 Mafia deserves that distinction if any one group does.
Apparently the writer has never heard of "double consciousness" which is hardly a novel thing by now.
Snap music in many cases is instructional dance music. Okay, I think we knew that already.
More overemphasis on someone criticizing the scene. I mean, Andre's latest guest verses have been awesome...but I highly doubt that many are buying smaller sized t-shirts because of them.
From the "trap to the blog", where everything in rap gets subordinated to the genius of Bob Dylan...wonderful.