for 26 May 1999. Updated every WEEKDAY.

"While things haven't really
progressed to the point
where, say, a really, really
fat white dude could pass
himself off as the crunkest
...."

Excuse me, the word is
crunkiest (crunky, crunkier,
crunkiest).

<gkmonica@
sophocle.imaginet.fr>

Not how I heard it, but I
know the French are far more
obsessive about the English
language than we Americans
are, so I'll take your word
for it.

Huck

Dear Suck!

A recent UK publication
quoted your Web site.
Curiosity got the better of
me and I decided to have a
look. Your bigoted ranting is
great. I get the feeling you
have a lot of pent-up
frustration inside. As for
the cultural dominance of the
States, forget it! Bollocks
to that. Admittedly the
standard of living is higher
in your suburban mall
paradise. Your tolerance of
and constitutional right to
own guns is truly liberal.
With your death penalties,
you're reaping the benefits
of a peaceful, murder-free
society. Your world policing
never backfires and you never
leg it when things get
difficult. Musically, your
search for a white version of
a black phenomenon stems from
a whole history of the music
industry trying to find the
white version of the original
and then blatantly riiping
off the black artists
(Atlantic Records?). Elvis
Presley's success seems to be
the blueprint. Black music
and style is your best
cultural asset, and you do
not realize it.

Is Third World status heading
England's way? I doubt the
colony principle is really
accurate for Europe. But hey,
what do I know? I only come
from Europe. I look forward
to the year 2000, when I'll
get to see a big splurge of
ignorance-fueled lunacy
stemming from your side of
the sea. Please don't get me
wrong. I do not hate America.
I have met many interesting
and enlightened Americans.
But in the face of bigotry
and Shiite nationalism, I must
hiss and piss.

Paul McCormack, Japan
<sprocket3@hotmail.com>

So are you one of those mad
Englishmen I sometimes read
about? I really couldn't get
a handle on what it is you
are trying to say, other than
your recognizing fragments of
a few well-worn anti-American
sentiments. Please, next
time, a little less hissin'
and pissin', a little more
revision, and maybe I'll give
you a real listen.

Blatantly riiping,

Huck

I read your commentary on
white MCs, and I can't
believe you actually think
white MCs played a major role
in hip-hop's development.
As a matter of fact, hip-hop
is black culture, and for
you to think whites had
anything to do with its
development is ridiculous.
The only contribution whites
have brought to hip-hop is
their never-ending interest
in our music. I'm glad you
show interest in our music,
but don't claim white MCs had
anything to do with the
development of hip-hop.

<JDBNIGWES@ yahoo.com>

Not a "major" role, just a
role. And, remember, it was a
white guy who invented the
turntable, so that's one more
contribution to consider.

Huck

For the most part, no one
would argue with white MCs'
contributions to hip-hop as
an art form. I, however,
think it's a bit early to
start grabbing one's dick and
demanding the world express
reverence or gratitude for
said contributions.

You cite Rolling Stone's top
50 list and actually seem
surprised that it's only
sparsely littered with
talent from the paler side
of the spectrum.

Various artists have been
embraced, but not as a result
of the way they represented
themselves within the
industry. That you even
mention Vanilla Ice's name
and suggest hip-hop owes him
is inane. I do understand
that, as with most things in
life, especially art, one
needs the bad to further
appreciate the good. Not so
in this case, though. If
there's one thing hip-hop has
never had a shortage of, it's
wackness. Mr. Van Winkle's
folly lay in the fact that he
felt the need to paint this
wounded, thug portrait of
himself. In reality, he was
just another rich, white boy
fuck-up; but perhaps he
could not wear that stereotype
with pride. That one instance
was a slap in the face of
every MC, white or black,
trying earnestly to make it
in this business. Those were
his victims, not the 15
million idiots who actually
bought that crap - they
deserve what they got:
Robbie Van Winkle immortalized
on aluminum.

You also suggest that because
of his mainstream acceptance
he paved the way for the
superstardom of Tupac, Snoop,
etc. Ridiculous. White fans
propel MCs into the
mainstream and usually to the
detriment of the artist, who
loses his or her core
audience. Look at MC Hammer,
unquestionably a commercial
success with all the elements
backing him, but I highly
doubt you find yourself
overhearing people
reminiscing about that bygone
era, Hammer Time. Even
grittier acts, like Wu-Tang,
The Fugees, or DMX, get
diluted as they are spread
over millions upon millions
of fans.

What set white groups like
the Beastie Boys apart from
others was that they never
tried to be black. They were
simply white kids who liked
imitating the Hollis styles
of Run-DMC. The fact that
they could play instruments
didn't hurt either because it
allowed them to open new
channels within hip-hop
(e.g., Check Your Head,
Paul's Boutique, etc.). But
any freckle-faced kid in
baggy jeans and timbs does
not a rapper make. Lyrical
prowess as you call it,
while obviously subjective,
is something that emanates
from the artists' ability to
be true to themselves. It
does not automatically assign
itself to an MC on the basis
of race. There are phony
black MCs as well.

Your elucidations go on
even further to suggest that
if a cracker never picked up
the microphone, hip-hop might
still be in a primitive
(albeit pure) state of "yes
y'allin'." This is the most
preposterous thing you write
in this article. Hip-hop
would have evolved with
or without the help of
white MCs. The real thanks
should be doled out to the
behind-the-scenes people -
the engineers (Bob Power),
etc. Even if their hearts
weren't in what they were
doing, they had a hand in
something that's genius.

You correctly state that
hip-hop is a "black thing,
born, bred, perfected, and
disseminated from the Bronx"
and other urban areas.
Hip-hop is indeed a black
creation that is packaged,
marketed, and distributed by
whites. It is for this reason
that blacks hold on so
tightly to the reins. It's
not that we as people of
African descent don't realize
we are responsible for the
inception and cultivation of
most of the musical genres
throughout history, but that
we are not given credit or
the rewards that follow
creation. So, if the doors of
hip-hop (which has accepted
its white counterparts) do
not fly open and admit every
Josh, Filbert, and Basil,
then they haven't much choice
but to sit and wait until
they are acknowledged. Or,
following the ancient maxim
of "show and prove," kick
some ill shit and bust the
door down. There truly is
always room for more.

mok <mok10_99@yahoo.com>

I wasn't surprised by the
absence of white rappers on
the Rolling Stone list - just
cited it to show how, in six
months, many white MCs of
some industry consequence
have appeared on the scene.

Also, I think you read the
piece a little too seriously.
Suck is a primarily satirical
publication that includes
heavy doses of hyperbole,
preposterousness, and
"sardonicisms." And
basically, I'm giving white
MCs credit for being bad or,
at best, competent, so the
"tribute" is essentially
ironic, you know?

Finally, while I do
understand why blacks have a
proprietary attitude
regarding hip-hop, I
nonetheless maintain that
that attitude contradicts
some of the principles that
inform hip-hop. Like you say,
there's always room for more
- and if white kids really
want to contribute to the
music, they've got to bring
something of themselves,
rather than just their best
renditions of whatever
hip-hop's gatekeepers will
allow them to imitate.

Huck

Subject: Go, white boy, go,
white boy.

Me 'n my dawgs be sittin'
'round the muthafuckin' Phi
Alpha Gamma hay-youse
studyin' for finals 'n shit.
What we be wondering is how
come you didn't mention no
GREEK rappahs?!?!?! What up
wid dat, bee-atch?

You live near a university,
boi-eee, you know whaddafuck
I talkin' 'bout. We be livin'
large in daddy's cars kickin'
it old school, new school,
don' mean shit to us. We got
the muthafuckin' Rockford
Fosgate. Drinkin' 40s wid our
fine rich girl hoes. Y'know,
keepin' real. 'Cause our
portfolios got the flavah.

So where's our fuckin' props?
You talk like we ain't got no
damn cred.

Peace out,

Todd A. Martin IV
<tamartin@ cei.net>

You had me sold until that
bit about the "40s" -
everyone knows any really
tight wigga wit' fratitude
drinks Night Train
exclusively - served very
cold. Or if they're on the
health tip, Wild Irish Rose
with ginseng.

Huck

I went to a pretty
well-respected NYC jazz
school and it was like I
couldn't possibly ever get it
because I wasn't black - we
were in so many words told by
the mostly black faculty that
we could never be truly great
jazz artists.

I say fuck 'em.
<matt@ brandscape.com>

Yeah, fuck 'em. Because if
they were truly great jazz
artists themselves, they
wouldn't have had to resort
to teaching; they'd earn
enough playing. So what did
they know about it anyway?

Huck

A whole article on white rap
and not even one mention of
Beck.

Sure, a lot of tightie
whities were responsible for
spurring on the creative
development of rap (a good
point by the way), but I
think Mr. Hansen deserves
props for helping the hippie
hip-hop scene evolve, as well
as for transcending, as an
artist, the foibles and flaws
of the genre (advocating
violence and sexual
objectification and doing
movie soundtracks).

Let's not forget the African-
American MCs who served the
same purpose as Mr. Van
Winkle during the early '90s:
MC Hammer and, still
struggling to get out of the
ghetto, Will Smith.

There are more poetic devices
than rime and rithm.

<castleking@hotmail.com>

You know, I only listened to
Odelay once, so I can't
really speak to Beck's
influence. As for Smith and
Hammer - I was going to
include Smith in my shoutout,
since it certainly was mighty
white of him to sample the I
Dream of Jeannie theme song
back in the day. Hammer,
well, I hear he has his own
public-access evangelism show
on TV now; that sounds pretty
promising, so maybe I'll end
up giving him the attention
he deserves yet.

Huck

When you mentioned MC 900
Foot Jesus, I couldn't tell
if you were being cynical or
not. I really like MC 900
Foot Jesus. I'm almost hurt
or something.

<hime1@ gte.net>

Actually, I only ever
listened to his first album,
so I don't know if he got
better or worse. Haven't
listened to it in a while,
but I remember it as being a
pretty excellent example of
old-school white rap - really
stiff and awkward at times,
with an overall kind of
cheesy synthesized sound, but
also, in stretches here and
there, pretty good in its own
cross-cultural way.

Huck

I've been puzzling over this
for years, because it seems
to me I know of a case of
something that can only be
categorized as rap in the
modern sense of the word, and
it was written in the early
1950s by Preston Wilson as
part of the classic stage
show and later movie The
Music Man. (With not a single
black face appearing anywhere
in River City, Iowa, it's
clearly as white-bread as it
can be.)

I'm referring to the sequence
at the very beginning where
all the travelling salesmen
are talking to each other
about what the business is
like, in rhythm with the
railroad car: "Cash for the
merchandise!"

Now if that's not rap, what
is it? Yes, it doesn't talk
about killing cops or making
girls pregnant or what a
bitch it is to live in the
ghetto, but on a deeper level
it's clearly part of the
genre. And it predates the
genre by at least 20 years.

Have any rappers ever
acknowledged Wilson's
contribution to the form?

<sdenbes1@ san.rr.com>

Well, there are a lot of odds
and ends that prefigure rap -
both in white and black
culture. There's Irish
talking blues, there's old
prison songs, there's Lord
Buckley, there's that "Hot
Rod Lincoln" song, there's
the dozens, etc., etc.

But, yeah, "Cash for the
merchandise!" "You can talk,
you can talk, you can dicker,
dicker, dicker." A classic
piece of verbal artistry, and
it wouldn't surprise me if it
had been sampled by someone,
because it's filled with
phrases that would sound
great in a contemporary
hip-hop song.

Huck

The Shit

Left for Dead in Malaysia, Neil Hamburger, Drag City, 1999 The Pyrotechnic Insanitarium: American Culture on the Brink, Mark Dery, Grove/Atlantic, 1999 Crazy from the Heat, David Lee Roth, Hyperion, 1998 Keep It Like a Secret, Built to Spill, WEA/Warner Brothers, 1999 Abbott's Pizza Company, near the corner of Abbott-Kinney and California, Venice Beach, Los Angeles (delivery hours limited) Piper at the Gates of Dawn, Pink Floyd, CD remaster, EMI 1994 Motorhead, CD remasters, all Det Som Engang Var, Burzum, Misanthropy, 1998 Bicentennial Capitol Mall State Park, Nashville, Tennessee A History of the Modern Fact, Mary Poovey, University of Chicago Press, 1998 V., Thomas Pynchon, HarperCollins Publishers, 1999 The Coffee Mill, Emeq Refaim, Jerusalem, Israel The Salesman and Bernadette, Vic Chesnutt, Capricorn Records, 1998 Good Morning Spider, Sparklehorse, Cema/Capitol, 1999 Third Floor, Anderson Building, Los Angeles County Museum of Art