As I’ve said in the past, hip-hop is not really my thing, so when I recommend something along those lines, it should be a sign that this is something really special. With that in mind, let me say without equivocation: I love the Blue Scholars, and you should, too.
They have great beats, an impressive array of jazzy and bluesy backing tracks, and some of the most impressive politically-minded lyrics this side of Woody Guthrie.
What makes the whole package great is the way these elements fuse together to make an organic whole. This is not hip-hop which happens to be political, nor can the message be divorced from the presentation. Form and content merge to produce a compelling and unique voice.
Their subjects range far and wide from Iraq to the inner cities, touching on broad struggles for equality, the trials of day-to-day life, and the interrelationships of class politics and consumerism. Such a broad focus risks dilution of the message – one begins to wonder if these problems simply weigh too heavily on our shoulders for any hope – but they reign in such feelings of nihilism by emphasizing, above all, the role of community.
And that is what makes them so special. It’s not uncommon for artists to rail against the negative, violent themes that run so deeply in contemporary hip-hop, but this is usually done with bold platitudes that don’t seem to offer much in concrete terms.
Southside Revival
Not the Blue Scholars. They want to revitalize hip-hop but, more important, they want to revitalize the communities from which hip-hop springs. Nowhere is this more apparent than this song, which walks the fine line between recognizing the broad social and political influences which devastate local communities and externalizing all responsibility onto those influences. This is made clear on this refreshing and powerful refrain:
“It’s a southside revival, put your hands high
Let your arms be the pillars that be holding up the sky
I’ve heard a few heads say that hip-hop is dead
No it’s not, it’s just malnourished and underfed”
This is a call to community organization, political action which recognizes that politics in any meaningful sense HAS to be local before it can be anything else. It is hope unvarnished, well-directed anger at economic policies that devastate inner cities and foreign policies that start unwinnable wars in the Middle East. But it is a critique that retains a firm hold on their social location. Iraq is a terrible mistake, but that reality is given true substance, a heart and soul when Geologic says “peace to my big brother, leaving in a week, stay safe in the Middle East brother, get home safely.”
The important battles of the 21st century cannot be fought purely by individuals. Structural racism, global warming, class divisions, inequality…none of these derive solely from a single source. The government, white people, rich people, men – none of these are the enemy. Instead it is governmentality, whiteness, privilege, masculinity, all elements which create unquestioned privilege, a sense of normalcy. But along with all of these, the enemy is also negativity, apathy, a refusal to hope, and an unwillingness to strive for something better.
The Blue Scholars want you to be angry, but they do not want an unfocused anger. Anyone can feel rage, the hard part is directing that emotion to a positive purpose.
It’s not the best song in history about graduation (I’m not sure anything can challenge “Thunder Road”), but it might very well be the second-best.
It is a devastating critique of modern education, listing off the host of failures (countless dropouts, budget cutbacks, inculcation of conformity, teachers who don’t care), but it is not anti-school or anti-education. Underneath all these criticisms is a demand that schools live up to the ideal. That those teachers who do care, who do try be given the tools they need. That young people who want to learn have that desire cultivated instead of beaten down.
As such, it is a true commencement. It’s for those who treat graduation as a beginning instead of an end, for those who do make it through 12 grades of school without dropping out or being beaten into submission.
And it’s all done over a smooth beat and insidiously beautiful backing track that worms its way deeply inside you.
Both of these tracks are from the superb Long March EP, which I highly recommend. According to their Wikipedia page, they have a new album scheduled for a May release called Bayani. When I hear more about that, I will certainly post again.
In the meantime, head over to Mass Line Media, the indie label they helped to start, and check out this remix, with a sample beat that should be very familiar to anyone who reads here regularly:
Inkwell (Crashed Cop Car Remix 2006)