The Most Rap Thing About Rap
Why the Drake vs. Kendrick beef is so interesting
The rap beef is arguably the most rap thing about rap. It’s a symbolically charged space anchored deeply within hip-hop’s genetic code—a connection that dates back to the very beginning of the genre and much further.
(Hip Hop, it’s been said, started out in the park, but soundclash culture has permeated the Carribean since at least the ‘60s, and the type of collaborative/competitive dynamics that exemplify battle-rapping have been a hallmark of Afro-Dasporic music in America since Bebop—or Ragtime….)
So after two days of texting about why Drake vs. Kendrick is so interesting, we decided that the world actually did need another take.
And while it may seem that the Stakes Are (Not So) High for Drake and Kendrick, a look under the hood reveals that this was about a lot more than personal insults or verbal one-upmanship. Rather, the two artists represent two competing ideologies and approaches to hip-hop, complete with very different relationships to social media, technology and the music industry itself:
Drake is the shape-shifting, business-savvy modern day Bowie superstar, navigating nearly two decades of success with a Jeff Koons-like “collaborative” approach to his craft. Kendrick is the Bic pen and legal yellow notepad, entrepreneurial-spirited my way out of nothing with determination and talent rap classicist. They couldn’t be more different. They are also—by almost any estimation—the two most popular and influential and beloved rappers of the last 15 years.
So, of course, we had things to say.
But first we dove into a history of rap beefs from The Bridge to Gucci Mane, tracing the changing conventions of verbal conflict and its relationship to both the music industry and the structures of feeling that surround it. Base + Superstructure + Their Interconnections. Then we hit on what Kendrick vs. Drake means at this inflection point in music, their careers, technology and more.
Listen to The Political Economy of Rap Beefs:
Karaoke’s Personal Pop
This past March, Shigeichi Negishi passed away at 100. Negishi has long been credited as the inventor of Karaoke—pulling together consumer electronics, post-work drinking culture, and a love of pop tunes into an era-defining mix.
A deeper dive, however, makes the story more complex (and honestly more interesting). Negishi was actually just one of a handful of simultaneous inventors. Spiral even deeper into the recesses of page 11 of your Google Search and you’ll even find claims that it started in Wales (we’ll explain).
Far from a distinct commercial product, Karaoke might be better understood as the necessary, albeit somewhat-off-key, shadow of the modern music business, albeit one that started as a drunken social lubricant to get a promotion from your boss (we’ll explain that too).
The result is one of the most fascinating elements of our contemporary musical…practice? Industry? Culture?
Karaoke has a way of blurring all those the lines.
After all, what does it mean to imagine yourself a star? Why do we want to perform Katy Perry songs in front of friends and strangers? How has Karaoke’s meaning in American culture changed over time? Where does all this fit into the history of folk music—and what does it mean for our social-media future?
A first pass, and definitely not a final say.
Listen to Karaoke’s Personal Pop:
Department of Actual Music:
Saxon: Hyper obscure trio from Quebec with cool as ice lo-fi 80s punk dub single. Apparently it was entirely composed with a bootleg Apple II made in China? Also, their only release.
Sam: Losing Steve Albini was…a blow. Besides being a total Patron Saint of criticizing the music industry, it was strange that I—and so many people I knew, both IRL and in the parasocial depths of twitter—felt such a totemic connection to this guy that so few of us had met. Not to throw more on the mountain of praise, but one of the remarkable things about his career was its sheer scale. It so easy to find an album you like, from some band you’ve never heard of, check the producer, and…it’s Albini. This is a favorite slice of dollar bin garage rock, listened to on repeat during at least one memorable trip through Western Mass. RIP.
Sam + Saxon