Mixtape Friday: Dorm Room Griots' Flow From Above
By Canyon Cody
Published in The Heights
For my little brother's 10th birthday, I sent him The Giver by Lois Lowry. The story follows Jonas through his apprenticeship under the Giver, an old man who serves as his community's Receiver of Memories.
Like the Giver, West African griots have served for centuries as keepers of memories. Griots are oral storytellers who use poetry and music to teach their village about its history. In America, griots became rappers, but somewhere between Senegal and the South Bronx, these rappers forgot the history they were entrusted to protect.
Today, the village of hip-hop suffers from a serious ignorance of its own past, which extends past New York in the 1970s. Modern-day spoken word poets like Saul Williams are hip-hop's true storytellers, but griots are not supposed to be celebrities; they're supposed to be functioning members of every village.
A-Side
Myran Hunter "We Have Forgotten"
At Boston College, a group of poets called the Dorm Room Griots have recorded Flow From Above, an album of spoken word poetry. They will be performing with musicians and DJs at the record release party on Friday at 9 p.m. at The Perch in McElroy.
On "We Have Forgotten," Myran Hunter, BC '07, speaks about the African musical and social history that hip-hop has sold out. "You can purchase an alternate ego, a lavish lifestyle, worldwide recognition, or even a whole new identity. All of this can be yours for three easy payments of your past, your present, and your future," Hunter says.
Noah "The Conflict"
"We are the BC '06, on this track from his upcoming rap album. Noah brings variety to the poetry album, rapping about the inherent conflicts involved in struggling to succeed in a country that was built on slavery.
B-Side
Martine Russell "Moonbeams"
Griots are both men and women, but hip-hop refuses to pass the mic to females. On "Moonbeams," Martine Russell, BC '06, sings her ode to the urban village, the "birth-mother to b-boys and b-girls." Her poem celebrates the persistence of a battered, but not beaten, metropolis, "survivor of Nixon and drug wars / all the while she continues to smile."
Sean Dwyer "Woodrow Wilson"
Time for some American history. "It's no wonder to which demographic democracy reaches / it's been since Woodrow Wilson when a president wrote his own speeches," raps Sean Dwyer BC '04.
More than guns or drugs, hip-hop promotes consumerism. Rappers are like commercials, encouraging listeners to buy, buy, buy. On his track, Dwyer explores how blind consumerism leads to global injustice: "I need to purchase more dead weight, my clothes have more pockets / Am I purchasing death? Wait, how'd they pay for those rockets?"
Showing posts with label politics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label politics. Show all posts
April 28, 2005
November 11, 2004
Vote for Lauryn Hill '08
By Canyon Cody
Published in The Heights
Waiting in line to vote in the election this year felt like waiting in line for food in the college dining hall. You know you need to choose something, but the options look so unappealing that you would rather not have anything. Some of the options are cleary worse than others, but how repulsive the chicken looks doesn't make the bland fish look any more appetizing.
When will we get a presidential nominee who people will want to vote for because they actually like him and not just because they hate the other guy? Probably not before the food in McElroy becomes a delicious culinary delight. Though the next election is still four very long years away, the Democrats are already looking for the future of their party. Nas and Wyclef Jean have declared themselves candidates. These are their platforms.
Nas - "If I Ruled the World"
Last night while playing Risk with my roommates until the wee hours of the morning I realized that our recently reelected president understood something about the world that I did not: Life, like Risk, is a game of world domination. Everyone from George Bush to Pinky and the Brain wants to take over the world, and Nas is no exception. On this duet with Lauryn Hill, Nas outlines his plan for when he's the man in charge. His first order of business: "I'd open every cell in Attica and send them to Africa."
Sadly, like most other politicians who want to rule the world, Nas seems more interested in the personal perks than the greater good. He raps, "If I ruled the world and everything in it, sky's the limit/ I'd push a Q-45 Infinite." I would hope for a bit more ambition from my leaders than the hope of driving a $55,000 car. Nas should at least try to get some multi-billion dollar no-bid construction contracts for his homies.
Wyclef Jean - "If I Was President"
Presidential candidates tend to promise the world on the campaign trail, but refuse to offer concrete strategies on how they actually plan on achieving or funding their proposals. Wyclef is no exception. In "If I Was President" he offers vague, crowd-pleasing promises like, "Instead of spending billions on the war, we can use some of that money in the ghetto."
What are your specific education proposals for reforming our failing schools in the inner city, Mr Jean? "Tell the children the truth. Yeah. The truth," he proposes. Unfortunately, Wyclef doesn't think the country is ready for such a straight-talker in the White House. He sings, "I'd get elected on Friday, assasinated on Saturday, and buried on Sunday." If Wyclef really thinks he'd be assassinated, then I'd definitely vote for him if he chose fellow-Fugee Lauryn Hill as his vice president and successor. Instead of looking to Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton to bring diversity to the White House, vote Lauryn Hill 2008.
By Canyon Cody
Published in The Heights
Waiting in line to vote in the election this year felt like waiting in line for food in the college dining hall. You know you need to choose something, but the options look so unappealing that you would rather not have anything. Some of the options are cleary worse than others, but how repulsive the chicken looks doesn't make the bland fish look any more appetizing.
When will we get a presidential nominee who people will want to vote for because they actually like him and not just because they hate the other guy? Probably not before the food in McElroy becomes a delicious culinary delight. Though the next election is still four very long years away, the Democrats are already looking for the future of their party. Nas and Wyclef Jean have declared themselves candidates. These are their platforms.
Nas - "If I Ruled the World"
Last night while playing Risk with my roommates until the wee hours of the morning I realized that our recently reelected president understood something about the world that I did not: Life, like Risk, is a game of world domination. Everyone from George Bush to Pinky and the Brain wants to take over the world, and Nas is no exception. On this duet with Lauryn Hill, Nas outlines his plan for when he's the man in charge. His first order of business: "I'd open every cell in Attica and send them to Africa."
Sadly, like most other politicians who want to rule the world, Nas seems more interested in the personal perks than the greater good. He raps, "If I ruled the world and everything in it, sky's the limit/ I'd push a Q-45 Infinite." I would hope for a bit more ambition from my leaders than the hope of driving a $55,000 car. Nas should at least try to get some multi-billion dollar no-bid construction contracts for his homies.
Wyclef Jean - "If I Was President"
Presidential candidates tend to promise the world on the campaign trail, but refuse to offer concrete strategies on how they actually plan on achieving or funding their proposals. Wyclef is no exception. In "If I Was President" he offers vague, crowd-pleasing promises like, "Instead of spending billions on the war, we can use some of that money in the ghetto."
What are your specific education proposals for reforming our failing schools in the inner city, Mr Jean? "Tell the children the truth. Yeah. The truth," he proposes. Unfortunately, Wyclef doesn't think the country is ready for such a straight-talker in the White House. He sings, "I'd get elected on Friday, assasinated on Saturday, and buried on Sunday." If Wyclef really thinks he'd be assassinated, then I'd definitely vote for him if he chose fellow-Fugee Lauryn Hill as his vice president and successor. Instead of looking to Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton to bring diversity to the White House, vote Lauryn Hill 2008.
November 4, 2004
Jack Johnson as Consolation
By Canyon Cody
Published in The Heights
Tuesday was a sad day for America. I will try not to exaggerate the issue, but I feel sincerely afraid of what might happen in our world during the next four years. For the moment, I can find no energy for protest. There is something so alarming about what I see occurring in my country that I cannot confront it directly.
In times like these, I escape to music. At its very best, music can do something that I cannot: It can simultaneously condemn the ugliness and celebrate the beauty in the world. On a day when Americans in 11 states have decided to vote homophobic bigotry into marriage law, I don't need music to remind me of the injustice that surrounds us. Today I need music for hope, or at least consolation. Here hip-hop can't help me, and instead I turn to the simple poetry of surfer guitar player Jack Johnson.
A-Side
Jack Johnson "Times Like These"
Liberals are inclined to talk about the president's re-election as if it marks the end of the world, but the slow, cyclical life of the Hawaiian surf has taught Johnson not to overreact to bad waves. From his perspective, the endless back-and-forth power struggles of politics, filled with "those for peace and those for war," are as meaningless as they are inevitable.
His words are simple, but his subtle wisdom is reassuring: "In times like these/ In times like those/ What will be will be/ And so it goes." All I can do now, Johnson seems to say, is ask God to grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. From the beaches of Honolulu, the politicking in Washington, D.C. seems distant and relatively unimportant to Johnson. When listening to Johnson, I'm not trying to forget or ignore the dirty politics in D.C.; I'm trying to remember the beauty that exists everywhere else.
B-Side
Jack Johnson "Cookie Jars"
The problem is not George Bush. The problem is the 59 million Americans who voted for him. Johnson sings, "We only receive what we demand/ And if we want hell then hell is what we'll have."
Why are so many middle-class Americans willing to support a president who does not support their interests? Because the television media coverage of the election was so poor that most voters were woefully uninformed. I understand exactly how Johnson feels when he sings, "I would turn on the TV, but it's so embarrassing." The right-wing bias of Fox News doesn't bother me as much as the general incompetence of television news. Jon Stewart rightfully criticized the political hacks on Crossfire for hurting America by turning politics into some sort of entertainment spectacle. "You're doing theater when you should be doing debate to inform citizens so that they can be knowledgeable," Stewart said.
By Canyon Cody
Published in The Heights
Tuesday was a sad day for America. I will try not to exaggerate the issue, but I feel sincerely afraid of what might happen in our world during the next four years. For the moment, I can find no energy for protest. There is something so alarming about what I see occurring in my country that I cannot confront it directly.
In times like these, I escape to music. At its very best, music can do something that I cannot: It can simultaneously condemn the ugliness and celebrate the beauty in the world. On a day when Americans in 11 states have decided to vote homophobic bigotry into marriage law, I don't need music to remind me of the injustice that surrounds us. Today I need music for hope, or at least consolation. Here hip-hop can't help me, and instead I turn to the simple poetry of surfer guitar player Jack Johnson.
A-Side
Jack Johnson "Times Like These"
Liberals are inclined to talk about the president's re-election as if it marks the end of the world, but the slow, cyclical life of the Hawaiian surf has taught Johnson not to overreact to bad waves. From his perspective, the endless back-and-forth power struggles of politics, filled with "those for peace and those for war," are as meaningless as they are inevitable.
His words are simple, but his subtle wisdom is reassuring: "In times like these/ In times like those/ What will be will be/ And so it goes." All I can do now, Johnson seems to say, is ask God to grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. From the beaches of Honolulu, the politicking in Washington, D.C. seems distant and relatively unimportant to Johnson. When listening to Johnson, I'm not trying to forget or ignore the dirty politics in D.C.; I'm trying to remember the beauty that exists everywhere else.
B-Side
Jack Johnson "Cookie Jars"
The problem is not George Bush. The problem is the 59 million Americans who voted for him. Johnson sings, "We only receive what we demand/ And if we want hell then hell is what we'll have."
Why are so many middle-class Americans willing to support a president who does not support their interests? Because the television media coverage of the election was so poor that most voters were woefully uninformed. I understand exactly how Johnson feels when he sings, "I would turn on the TV, but it's so embarrassing." The right-wing bias of Fox News doesn't bother me as much as the general incompetence of television news. Jon Stewart rightfully criticized the political hacks on Crossfire for hurting America by turning politics into some sort of entertainment spectacle. "You're doing theater when you should be doing debate to inform citizens so that they can be knowledgeable," Stewart said.
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