Editors: Daisy Klarissa + David Sanchez
Part one of a two-part piece that shares with you my exploration and articulation of why it is that that I have such respect for the rap genre and everything it represents.
I can’t tell you what your first words were to me as a prepubescent snot-nosed kid, but I just knew I loved every single word that rolled off of your lips. Fully entranced by the way you sounded and what you had to say, my love for you has only grown further. I know I’m not the only one that you fill up with these emotions, but I’ve grown to accept this polygamous relationship that many us must abide by in order to enjoy you however each of us prefer. I’ve seen what your presence does to people at the shows, house parties, and everyday banter, but I am filled with joy that there are literally millions of us who love you just as much as I do.
I was 8 years old in all of these.
I’ve always had this love for you that never really needed reasoning, I liked what I liked and that was really it. As I aged, you lived in different homes that allowed us to connect whenever I wanted to. You selfishly occupied nearly all of the storage on my run-of-the-mill generic ass MP3s and iPods. You made me do things I would’ve never had done prior to meeting you. I can still vividly remember childhood memories of sneaking into my mother’s purse, searching for a way to you, and purchasing songs just to feed my itch. When that monthly bill touched down, I knew my ass was grass, but Yung Joc, D4L, Digital Underground, Three Six Mafia, Afroman, and many more made me feel like the decision was justified.
Like I said, I never felt like I had to give reasoning to anyone about why it was that this long-standing relationship I have with rap remains stronger than ever.
Within my thought-provoking 3-year relationship that ended graciously this past summer, there was always this common sentiment of hers she unapologetically expressed,
“Why do you like this kind of trash music?”
I just couldn’t quite understand why she wasn’t feeling Gunna, Lil Baby, Future, and Young Nudy, who were bangin in my illustrious 1998 Honda Accord coupe that's older than I am. She was a wonderful person and I just think our musical interests just didn’t align. And that’s okay. I wouldn’t say I was completely oblivious as to why she didn’t enjoy it as much as I did, but I would say the consistent themes of embracing misogyny, infidelity, and drug/alcohol use maybe had something to do with it.
I don’t think I was ever really able to articulate to her why this deep-love I have for rap runs deep. Common response was essentially that it was more than just the lyrics, the wordplay, or beats that do with you what they will, but it was more about what laid there underneath it all.
As an only child growing up, the majority of my free-time was spent with my cousins who were 4 - 5 years older than I was. Tucked in the SE corner of the house was a game room of sorts. Whether it was a few of our cousins or just him and I, there was this wooden desk parallel to the N wall, which stationed this dinosaur of a desktop he owned. Fuck it, this monstrocity of a desktop gave me my first taste of this sweet sin I now enjoy today. You already know, we allegedly had LimeWire booted up. I think I might’ve learned to use LimeWire before I learned my multiplication tables. Either way, LimeWire helped source so much of this inspiration that continues to be a part of my life. Shoutsout LimeWire.
Much of what my cousins did heavily influenced what I did, what I might’ve said, and what I might’ve liked. Obviously, I have been able to curate a certain pallet for myself over the years, but they certainly laid the groundwork. I can confidently say that they were my first source of inspiration as a child. Shoutsout older cousins.
Whether I was allegedly torrenting albums like 36 Chambers, Get Rich or Die Tryin’, or The People’s Champ and filling up my MP3 with music that I had no right to be listening to as a 6 year old or experiencing the same life through the eyes of someone 4 years older than me, I can happily say my childhood was corrupted in the best way possible.
Being injected with all of this inspiration from my cousins, I would then take whatever I had loaded up down to the fellas who joined me at St. Karen’s private Catholic School. I can still vividly remember bringing my PSP with a storage that was nearly exhausted with music and maybe giving the fellas a chance to listen to something new. I can still remember the belters of laughter that flooded from the cubby closet after each and every FUCK or BITCH.
Dressin’ at my 8th Grade Grad
Closer to 8th grade, Jay Z and Kanye West dropped Watch The Throne and man when I’m saying it was nuts, it was nuts. In the early summer of 2012, live at the Parc de Bercy in Paris, Jay and Kanye had people tweaking. They performed N*ggas in Paris in Paris a total of 12 times. For the grand finale, the massive crowd that opens up is absolutely ready to pummel each other, but both artists refrained from going in until everyone was to go HAM. It was that sort of energy that was floating around in the summer air of 2012. Come 8th grade, Watch The Throne had become my religion. I had read the scriptures, applied the followings, and opened up my heart to the Lord and Savior WTT. I knew just about every single word in that album and a friend of mine who shall remain anonymous was just a fan as much as I was.
As weird as it sounds, I liked changing for PE with the fellas. Changing for PE was more than just changing in and out of your clothes. It had become a time to do what you couldn't in the classroom. Whether that was making fun of someone without their shirt on, slamming wet paper towels against each other, or reminiscing on how hard we had unloaded on someone if we had played dodgeball that day, changing for PE was something we all looked forward to.
Like I had said, there was something brewing in that sweet eighth grade air. Maybe it was the body-odor, but I’d like to think otherwise. My friend who will continue to remain anonymous and I had taken on the identities of Jay and Kanye. Whether if it was Otis, N*ggas in Paris, or Murder to Excellence, whatever you name it. We’d decide beforehand,
“Who’s Jay?”
“Who’s Ye?”
We’d go bar for bar, switching verses, going back and forth, it was absolutely nuts. I think. Regardless, Watch The Throne had become our religion.
With this ever-blossoming love for rap that I have, I can say that much of my childhood had a big role in creating this relationship between the genre and I.
I would like to personally thank those who took the time out of their day to read a little about my early relationship with music and my childhood. I can imagine many of us were corrupted by our older cousins at some point so if you have any specific memories, songs, videos, TV shows, or whatever it may be, I’d love to hear about it.
Any and all criticism is appreciated.
2 of 2 - Friday.
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