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Chuck D. (Photo: BBC Studios/PBS)
When black vocal group Fifth Dimension released their national anthem, “Aquarius,” in 1969, they sought to capture community skepticism about government.From the counterculture musical hair, the song’s lyrics are a call to action: Take back control of your environment and let the sun shine. Three years later, when Shirley Chisholm became the first black woman to run for president of the United States, she echoed that sentiment in her announcement speech, “reshaping our society and taking back control of our destiny.” The music captured the emotions of the community, and the community responded with an organized social movement.new PBS documentary Fight the Power: How Hip-Hop Changed the World argues that this call and response helped hip-hop become a tool of black liberation, but in trying to prove it, it advocates radical political reform while trying to appeal to mainstream audiences. We are scooping up the unique problem of doing.
Hip-hop lyrics are imbued with something emotional and practical. The lyrical poetry of this genre conveys the human pain, anger, and revolutionary joy of black and brown communities experiencing systemic oppression. At the same time, a specific call to action in the same lyrics offers a strategy for liberation. To demonstrate this ongoing synergy, the series identifies patterns that began to emerge even before the genre’s earliest iterations and continue to the present day. The community celebrates its music. This will help mobilize efforts to eradicate the damage.
Throughout the four episodes — which were executive produced (according to PBS press materials) and “written” by Chuck D, leader of the politically charged rap group Public Enemy — black historian, policy Geeks, MCs, and DJs parse through an exhaustive series of facts. The dismantling of social services by President Reagan, the eviction of entire black townships by Robert Moses, Mayor Giuliani’s belief in the broken window theory, and the expansion of Stop and Frisk by LAPD Police Chief Darryl Gates are all examples of specially designed environments. is presented with great care as a basis for oppress people of color. Toddy Tee’s ‘Batter Ram’, Ice-T’s ‘Cop Killer’, Tupac’s ‘Brenda’s Got a Baby’ and Queen Latifah’s ‘UNITY’ are bugle calls from communities determined to take back their surroundings. These declarations have spurred a variety of political and social movements, including but not limited to Black Lives Matter and the election of President Barack Obama, dubbed the “Hip-Hop President” in the documentary.
But the show struggles to reflect another dualism in hip-hop: achieving mainstream success while advocating for grassroots social change. cannot explain definitively whether the genre’s ability to accomplish the former undermines its ability to do the latter. In fact, that internal struggle is only mentioned briefly, even though it’s alluded to as a crucial battle to protect the soul of hip-hop.
Legitimizing hip-hop as a genre meant carefully curating its leader and sound for mass appeal. In 1989, then 14-year-old Roxanne Chante competed with her other MCs in the Battle for World Supremacy, a competition to determine the winner as a hip-hop leader. In a documentary interview, Shante talks about her dominance throughout the contest, right up until the final round when the judges tanked her with an unusually low score, costing her the title. Chuck D. and his team confessed to Shantae that they deliberately lowered their scores to protect hip-hop’s image because they felt it was harmful for teenage girls to be called leaders of the culture. It says little about what hip-hop has lost in setting a precedent for disrespecting Chante and missing the voice of the community, but ostensibly defending that very community. It is recognized among her interviewees that she paved the way for her female hip-hop artist, but that recognition of her is not without an exhaustive discussion of what happened to her. makes little sense.
With its entry into the mainstream, hip-hop’s message has become a tool of aspiration rather than provocation. That aspiration was America’s own version of success, equal opportunity to achieve extra material wealth through hard work. According to CNN, American his dream of hip-hop was embodied in Donald his Trump, who was mentioned at least 318 times in his rap lyrics between 1989 and 2016. But while Trump was embraced by hip-hop, he also advocated a racist policy. In 1989, he even paid for a full-page ad in four New York City newspapers calling for the state to introduce the death penalty and apply it to the Central Park Five.
In a way, rather than changing the world in any significant way, hip-hop was participating in a bread and circus that effectively prevented communities from liberating themselves. It’s a deep identity crisis to deal with. It’s not enough to report as fact that the genre has shifted from advocating systemic reform to personal wealth. It is equally important to discuss why it happened. Communities of color may have lost faith in policies after decades of the theft of generational wealth through systems built by racist laws. In that case, investing hope in the American Dream, which promises personal wealth, might have seemed more plausible. They may have become less interested in policy reforms that transfer power from themselves to communities of color.
These are all potential blind spots that, if studied, could provide useful guidance on how to prevent the genre from going astray again. In their comprehensible quest to do, Chuck D. and company ironically silence an important part of the story. The influence of the genre is arguably even more acute when it fully acknowledges its complex ties to the communities in which it originated.
Fight the Power: How Hip-Hop Changed the World It will premiere on PBS on January 31st at 9pm ET.
Alexi Chacon is a theater and cultural critic based in Philadelphia. His writings have been published in Philadelphia His Inquirer, The Body, Theatrery, Brooklyn His Rails and others.
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