Tag Archives: rap music

Arachnophonia : Kanye West “My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy”

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Editor’s note: Arachnophonia is a regular feature on our blog where members of the UR community can share their thoughts about resources from the Parsons Music Library‘s collection.

All links included in these posts will take you to either the library catalog record for the item in question or to additional relevant information from around the web.

Today’s installment of Arachnophonia is by student worker Colin (class of 2021) and features Kanye West’s 2010 album My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. Thanks, Colin!

Kanye West

My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy

Kanye West - My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy

My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy (MBDTF) is my favorite Kanye album. Many fans, reviewers and artists in the industry also agree with me that the albumis both technically amazing and culturally significant, with many music publications reporting back in December that MBDTF is their top album of the entire 2010s, such as Rolling Stone and Billboard. Why I believe this album is worthy of this praise is two-fold: first, the album continues the musical genius and masterful production that were present in The College Dropout, Late Registration and Graduation; and second, this album marked Kanye’s public apology for his previous wrong-doings and public controversy, while apologizing in the most ‘Kanye’ way possible; self-reflection upon fame and ego.

I would be remiss in writing about MBDTF if I did not first acknowledge the character and artist behind the production of the album. Kanye has had his fair share of headlines throughout the past ten years or so, between his support of Donald Trump and the idea that Democrats have “brainwashed” black Americans, to his laptop being “stolen” by his cousin who leaked private videos of him, to his famous Twitter tirades in which he has attacked figures such as Wiz Khalifa and the company Nike, to his ongoing bouts with Taylor Swift. The list is long and could have been expanded upon further. Kanye is rarely in the news for positivity, but I argue that his albums should be judged separately from the creator. It is actually the last headline, his history with Taylor Swift, which started the production of MBDTF. In 2009 at MTV’s Video Music Awards, Kanye infamously took to the stage to interrupt Swift’s acceptance speech for Best Female Video, proclaiming that Beyoncé should have won the honor. This prompted nationwide outrage against Kanye, which prompted an apology tour soon afterwards. He then took off to Hawaii that same year in the form of a retreat, in which he began working on MBDTF in Honolulu’s Avex Recording Studio.

Kanye West Performing at SWU Music Arts Festival 2011 by Renan Facciolo – Kanye West – SWU Music & Arts, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=18137550

MBDTF is a journey. First, many elements of his previous albums can be identified on tracks throughout this album, indicating a feeling that the work in its entirety could be considered Kanye’s magnum opus. It borrows on the soul and experimental hip-hop aspects found in The College Dropout and Late Registration, mixed with the unrestricted emotional and innovative gleam evident in Graduation and 808s & Heartbreak. Second, the album explores themes such as wealth, prominence, decadence, excess, escapism, self-aggrandizement and self-doubt. An interesting understanding I found in my research is from Andrew Martin of Prefix Magazine, in which he notes in his review that this work “derives its intrigue from the shortcomings of its creator” and “it’s a meditation on fame.” Topics from previous, and even future Kanye albums, explore social issues that plague the world, such as abuse of drugs or the ongoing mistreatment of people of color. However, the “apology album” that MBDTF was expected to be allowed Kanye to reflect on the personal characteristics of his life, and to recognize that he is not perfect.

Focusing on specific tracks, the album opens with the aptly titled “Dark Fantasy.” Nicki Minaj introduces the first track through spoken-word, which then transitions into Kanye rapping about his images of grandeur as a child, and how the population perceives the fame, he has experienced incorrectly. Continuing through the album, “All of the Lights” is my personal favorite track. Between the masterful uses of synthesized sound bites to the lyrical story of a convicted man due to physical assault charges, the song is amazing in my eyes and by the public, receiving many accolades such as Best Rap Song at the 54th Grammy Awards. Another noteworthy track is “Runaway,” which appropriately premiered as a live performance at the 2010 MTV Video Music Awards, a year after Kanye’s public condemnation for his action against Swift, which prompted the creation of this album. Many reviewers laud “Runaway” as Kanye’s best song, placing emphasis on the ego of himself in a statement of lyrical apology for his public figure, but referring to the flaw of human nature of self-absorption that caused his problems. Some other album highlights include “Monster,” “Devil in a New Dress,” and “Lost in the World.”

Music is a strange dichotomy in which it is explicitly linked with the creators of itself and its performers, while also taking on its own personality completely separate from association with a person. I believe that My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy should be viewed through a similar lens. Personally, I have friends who refuse to listen to Kanye West’s music simply because of the nature of himself as a person and the way he has publicized himself throughout the world. However, I believe it to be a great tragedy to close oneself off to the music that he creates as a separate entity of himself, only to experience the idea of the music and what it is trying to portray to us as an audience. No recommendation could ring more true than his album, which should be experienced and loved by all listeners.

Arachnophonia: Rap On Trial

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Editor’s note: Arachnophonia is a regular feature on our blog where members of the UR community can share their thoughts about resources from the Parsons Music Library‘s collection.

All links included in these posts will take you to either the library catalog record for the item in question or to additional relevant information from around the web.

Today’s installment of Arachnophonia is by student worker William (class of 2021) and features a new book by UR faculty member Erik Nielson and Andrea L. Dennis of the University of Georgia School of Law entitled Rap On Trial: Race, Lyrics, and Guilt in America. Thanks, William!

(Please note that this piece was concurrently published in UR’s student newspaper The Collegian as well!)

Rap On Trial: Race, Lyrics, and Guilt in America
by Erik Nielson and Andrea L. Dennis

Rap On Trial

Five Deeply Concerning Takeaways from UR professor Erik Nielson’s new book Rap On Trial: Race, Lyrics and Guilt in America

In their new book, Rap On Trial: Race, Lyrics and Guilt in America, University of Richmond professor Erik Nielson and Chair of Law at the University of Georgia School of Law, Andrea Dennis, rebuke prosecutors’ use of rap lyrics as evidence of a defendant’s guilt in U.S. criminal trials.

In doing so, they document how the U.S. criminal justice system’s policing of hip hop and rap music has evolved, and elucidate the dire consequences and First-Amendment concerns of using rap lyrics to convict and incarcerate young men of color.

Here are five deeply concerning takeaways:

1. Rap lyrics are almost always permitted as evidence to prosecute serious crimes like murder, robbery and drug trafficking

Throughout their research, Nielson and Dennis have identified more than 500 cases across the U.S. in which rap lyrics were used as evidence in a criminal trial. In some cases, the prosecution introduced a defendant’s lyrics as substantiating evidence of the defendant’s guilt in some crime. Other times, the lyrics were the crime.

According to the New Jersey ACLU, rap lyrics were permitted as evidence in 80 percent of cases that considered their admissibility. But Nielson and Dennis say the number, according to their research, is significantly higher.

2. Police and prosecutors target young, black and Latino amateur rappers

In roughly 95 percent of cases involving rap lyrics, the defendant is a young, black or Latino man with a local fan base, if any fan base at all. Because of their social status, amateur rappers, in the eyes of police and prosecutors, are not real artists.

3. Rap lyrics are used to convince jurors of the defendant’s “true character”

By Dennis and Nielson’s analysis, police and prosecutors nationwide interpret and present to jurors rap music as autobiographical. A training manual written by a California prosecutor says that, through music lyrics, prosecutors “can invade and exploit the defendant’s true personality.” The manual tells prosecutors not to be fooled by the defendant’s nice court attire.

“The real defendant is a criminal wearing a do-rag and throwing a gang sign,” according to the manual.

In the hands of prosecutors, rap lyrics are taken out of context and construed as accurate depictions of the defendant’s real life, despite the art form’s well-known tradition of hyperbole. Because of this, defendant’s will often plead guilty in exchange for a lesser sentence, knowing their lyrics, presented by prosecutors, might significantly bias the jurors.

To introduce lyrics as evidence, prosecutors often argue that the lyrics they wish to introduce are evidence of the defendant’s motive, knowledge or ability to commit the crime in question. If a defendant is being accused of murder, for instance, prosecutors will cherry-pick from the defendant’s rap lyrics the lyrics most evocative of murder, and argue before the jury that the rap lyrics at least prove the defendant is capable of murder.

Prosecutors have used rap lyrics to argue for harsher sentences. Dennis and Nielson have identified thirty cases in which prosecutors used a defendant’s lyrics to argue that the defendant’s “true character,” as exposed in his lyrics, was so beyond any hope of rehabilitation that he should be sentenced to death.

In at least one case, prosecutors used a defendant’s lyrical abilities to argue that he was mentally stable and intelligent enough to be executed.

4. Rap lyrics and videos are used to warrant “gang enhancements”

If prosecutors can show that the crime the defendant is standing trial for was committed on behalf of or in association with a gang, prosecutors can request a “gang enhancement,” which can double a defendant’s sentence. In some states, gang enhancements allow for juveniles to be charged as adults.

Prosecutors regularly use rap lyrics to seek gang enhancements. If a defendant references gang themes in his lyrics, or even just mentions certain neighborhoods, prosecutors will use those rap lyrics to connect the defendant’s crime to gang activity.

Increasingly common is the use of rap music videos to justify gang enhancements. Dennis and Nielson have identified cases in which prosecutors used rap music videos to justify a gang enhancement for defendants who were seen in the background of a music video.

5. “Gang experts” routinely use rap music and videos to surveil entire communities

Nielson and Dennis make clear that, although “Rap On Trial” is focused on the use of rap lyrics as evidence in criminal trials, police and so-called “gang experts” nationwide use hip hop, rap music and videos to surveil communities, to identify suspects and to justify arrests, all before rap enters the courtroom.

Michael Render, also known as “Killer Mike” from the Atlanta, Georgia, hip hop duo “Run The Jewels,” is a close friend of Nielson’s and wrote the foreword to Rap On Trial.

“Right now, aspiring rap artists need to know they are being targeted by the authorities,” Render wrote, “and they need to balance their right to free speech–and their desire to push the envelope of free speech–with the reality that police are watching.”

Arachnophonia – MUS 235 Edition: A Tribe Called Quest “The Low End Theory”

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Editor’s note: Arachnophonia is a regular feature on our blog where members of the UR community can share their thoughts about resources from the Parsons Music Library‘s collection.

This special edition of Arachnophonia features contributions from students in Dr. Joanna Love‘s MUS 235 class: “I Want My MTV: Music Video and the Transformation of the Music Industry.”

All links included in these posts will take you to either the library catalog record for the item in question or to additional relevant information from around the web.
Today’s installment of Arachnophonia is by MUS 235 student Ryan and features the 1991 album The Low End Theory by hip hop group A Tribe Called Quest. Thanks, Ryan!

A Tribe Called Quest

The Low End Theory

A Tribe Called Quest - The Low End Theory

The cover of The Low End Theory (1991), the second album from A Tribe Called Quest

In this post, I will be analyzing The Low End Theory (Album, CD) by A Tribe Called Quest as an academic source. The Low End Theory was the second album released by ATCQ, through Jive Records and Zomba Recording company on September 24th, 1991, and is frequently listed as one of the greatest Hip Hop albums of all time by critics. Considering that Hip Hop was still relatively young at the time, the album was fairly commercially successful. It peaked at number 45 on the U.S. Billboard charts and was certified gold within four months and platinum three years later. Much more important than its commercial success and its critical acclaim however, was its influence on the future direction of Hip Hop. Because of ATCQ’s heavy use of jazz sampling and their playful and funny yet socially conscious lyricism, The Low End Theory is an essential source for researchers examining the relationship between Jazz and Hip Hop and the rise of the popular subgenre of Conscious Rap today, including the music of Kendrick Lamar and J Cole.

A Tribe Called Quest was a self-proclaimed “Hip Hop Band” consisting of members Q-Tip, Phife Dawg, and Ali Shaheed Muhammad.

A Tribe Called Quest

An image from the inside of the booklet in The Low End Theory CD featuring the group members. Q-Tip is on the left, Ali Shaheed Muhammad is on the right, and Phife Dawg is front and center

The fourth member, Jarobi White, left the group after their first album, so he was not included on this album, but returned to contribute to the groups final album, We Got It From Here… Thank You 4 Your Service, after Phife Dawg passed away in 2016. On The Low End Theory, Ali Shaheed Muhammad was a DJ/producer, Phife Dawg was an MC, and Q-Tip was both a producer and MC. Their sophomore album, which consists of 14 tracks and is 48 minutes in length, gets its name from both the bass, or low-end, focused instrumentals and is also a clever reference to their lowered status as black men in America. Alongside the album, ATCQ also released a music video for the track “Scenario” and another combined video, which I will be analyzing in my final research paper for this class, for “Jazz (We’ve Got)” and “Buggin’ Out.”

As the title of track 11, which is part 1 of the previous video, suggests, the music on The Low End Theory is heavily inspired by Jazz and wears that influence on its sleeve. In the first verse of “Excursions”, the opening song of the album, Q-Tip references this influence by comparing Hip Hop to Bebop Jazz in the lines, “You could find the Abstract listenin’ to hip-hop/My pops used to say, it reminded him of Bebop/I said, Well, Daddy, don’t you know that things go in cycles?/Way that Bobby Brown is just amping like Michael”. The most obvious musical influence is in the samples found within the instrumentals. Though not all of the samples on the album are credited, some of the more prominent ones were cleared and are listed at the end of the CD booklet and most originate from jazz or funk records. “Vibes and Stuff” uses a sample from jazz guitarist Grant Green and “Check the Rhime” uses a horn sample from Average White Band’s song “Love Your Life”. Though it isn’t credited on the album, a bit of digging on whosampled.com shows that the song “Jazz (We’ve Got)” uses a sample from the piece “Green Dolphin Street” by Jazz/Blues Pianist Jimmy McGriff. ATCQ even goes beyond sampling and recruits famous Jazz Double Bassist, Ron Carter, to play the bass line on the Q-Tip solo track, “Verses from the Abstract”.

Though The Low End Theory was far from the first Hip Hop album to make use of jazz sampling, ATCQ was able to fuse jazz and funk instrumentation with hard hitting but laid back drum loops in a unique way that resonated with their audience. ATCQ’s previous album, People’s Instinctive Travels and the Paths of Rhythm, also used many jazz samples but did not receive the same kind of acclaim. At that point, the group was still perfecting their sound. The lyricism was similar, but the instrumentals were not quite as sparse and focused on the low-end, an attribute of The Low End Theory and its successor, Midnight Marauders, that made them stand out.

The instrumental style of The Low End Theory was not just critically acclaimed, but turned out to be a major influence on the future of Hip Hop production. Even today, its influence can clearly be heard in the music of some of the most popular artists in modern Hip Hop. The closing songs on both J Cole’s 4 Your Eyez Only and Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp A Butterfly employ soft jazz instrumentation over prominent bass lines and hard-hitting but laid-back drums and sound like they could have easily fit into A Tribe Called Quest album. The two artists even collaborated on an homage to ATCQ called “Forbidden Fruit” in 2013, in which the two used the same sample that ATCQ used for “Electric Relaxation”. The vocal style of ATCQ has also proven to be very influential. To use another J. Cole example, his song “Wet Dreamz” has many similarities to the Phife Dawg focused song, “Butter”, from The Low End Theory. Both songs deal with various girl problems the two have gone through. They are clearly fairly serious and relatable topics, however both rappers tell the stories using clever and sometimes funny rhymes. Instead of focusing on catchy lyrics like groups like Run D.M.C, or the more serious tones of contemporaries like N.W.A or Public Enemy, Q-Tip and Phife Dawg found a conscious yet light and palatable rap style that many later rappers wanted to emulate.

The Low End Theory is essential to my research for this course since I am using the video “Jazz (We’ve Got) Buggin’ Out” in order to examine the relationship between Jazz and Hip Hop. That video, and by extension The Low End Theory, is not the only place to start when searching for the critical point connecting the genres, but it is certainly one of the most significant. In the time since The Low End Theory was released, Jazz and Hip Hop have become increasingly intertwined, to the point that they have become indistinguishable from one another at times. Albums like Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp A Butterfly and Madlib’s Shades of Blue, as well as many of The Roots’ projects explore the explore the shared musical and cultural lineage of the genres and all of those artists would cite A Tribe Called Quest and The Low End Theory as one of their influences.

Arachnophonia – MUS 235 Edition: Rap Music and Street Consciousness

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Editor’s note: Arachnophonia is a regular feature on our blog where members of the UR community can share their thoughts about resources from the Parsons Music Library‘s collection.

This special edition of Arachnophonia features contributions from students in Dr. Joanna Love‘s MUS 235 class: “I Want My MTV: Music Video and the Transformation of the Music Industry.”

All links included in these posts will take you to either the library catalog record for the item in question or to additional relevant information from around the web.
Today’s installment of Arachnophonia is by MUS 235 student Alice and Rap Music and Street Consciousness, a musicological history of rap music. Thanks, Alice!

Rap Music and Street Consciousness by Cheryl L. Keyes

Rap Music and Street Consciousness

In Rap Music and Street Consciousness, Cheryl L. Keyes tracks the development of rap music in the United States from the early 1970s to 2000. Employing the perspectives of ethnomusicology, folklore, and cultural studies, Keyes brings in views from a variety of critics. The book is divided into two parts. Part 1 explores the sociocultural history and aesthetics of rap music. Part 2 provides critical perspectives of rap and explores the representation of rap in popular culture.

Keyes details the start of hip-hop and rap as a youth movement that evolved in the Bronx, New York, in the early 1970s. She defines rap music as a “musical form the makes use of rhyme, rhythmic speech, and street vernacular, which is recited or loosely chanted over a musical soundtrack” (1). In its beginnings, the movement was comprised of disc jockeys, emcees, break-dancers, graffiti writers, and style of urban street culture. In her research, Keyes focuses on disc jockeys and emcees. Hip-hop began with the mixing of pre-recorded hits on two turntables and as it became more competitive, artists started to hire MCs to do vocals over the tracks. The rhythmic aspects of hip-hop caught people’s attention and brought this new style into mainstream media. “Rapper’s Delight” (1979) by Sugarhill Gang became a commercial hit and catalyzed rap’s entry into the popular music industry. By the late 1980s, rap had become a billion dollar enterprise.

With commercial success came harsh criticism and controversy. Many critics often saw rap and violence as synonymous. The media and the right-wing politics of the 1980s amplified the perceived negativity surrounding rap and hip-hop. Ronald Reagan’s rhetoric and ideas spurred division between black and white communities and these sentiments were reflected in the media’s portrayal of African American and Latino youth communities as fraught with violence, crime, and drugs. Rap emerged to combat the negative narrative being placed unfairly upon these communities. Attacks on rap continued, as gangsta rap particularly came under censorship. Critics disputed the artistry of rap; some questioning the sampling of musical tracks rather than the creation of newly inspired works. In Keyes’ work, she situates rap and hip-hop within the context of urban street culture. She defines ‘streets’ as “a subculture of the urban milieu that operates by its own rules, economics, lifestyle, language, and aesthetics” (6). ( A deep understanding of street culture is needed, she states, to mold the discussion of rap and hip-hop.)

Chapter 8, “Visualizing Beats and Rhymes,” will prove most valuable for my individual research. Keyes briefly starts out the chapter discussing how music videos are used as marketing and advertising tools for artists. They serve as a platform for artists to re-envision their music. The first part of the chapter, which I will draw some useful information from, provides a model for analyzing how black youth culture is encoded in rap videos. The second part of the chapter details the video-making process from an interview with director and producer J. Kevin Swain.

In Chapter 8, Keyes introduces the idea of iconic memory, which she defines as “the referencing of place, historical events, and music familiar to hip-hop viewers” (211) and says is unique to rap. Key aspects of iconic memory include visualization of “illustration, amplification, and disjuncture” (212). She focuses some of her discussion on gangsta rap music videos in particular, which is useful since I will be analyzing N.W.A, whose music classifies as gangsta rap. Keyes notes how gangsta rap music videos tried to capture the reality of life in the hood, focusing heavily on the relationship between black youth and the police. Although some critics say N.W.A glorifies violence — which is the reason MTV actually refused to air the “Straight Outta Compton” music video initially — rappers argue that it simply depicts the harassment young black men experience in their everyday reality. She quotes Ice Cube, a member of N.W.A. saying “‘We deal with reality; violence is reality’” (216). “Fuck tha Police” and “100 Miles And Runnin’” were also direct references to police harassment and the repression in young black communities. An important point is how the ‘streets’ influence rap music videos. In the introduction, Keyes notes how video director Hype Williams said that urban street culture informs his directing. “‘The ‘streets’ reflect in all that I do; the camera [lens] is an extension of that’ (1995)” (5). This idea, along with her idea of iconic memory will help shape my discussion when analyzing “100 Miles And Runnin’” and other N.W.A. music videos.

Hype Williams

Hype Williams, a prominent rap music video director

Although Chapter 8 aids in my specific analysis of N.W.A.’s music videos, other chapters in the book can provide me, and other researchers, with more contextual context and historical discussion. For example, in Chapter 4, “Expanding Frontiers: Rap Music, 1990-2000,” Keyes discusses censorship of gangsta rap and the wave of concern over First Amendment rights. Also, in Chapter 6, “Issues, Conflicts, and Conspiracies: The Hip-Hop Nation at the Crossroad,” Keyes’ discussion of how materialism plays a role in shaping hip-hop culture will be valuable in my analysis.


N.W.A.’s “100 Miles And Runnin'” music video

As Keyes describes herself, the “nature of this work” is “multifaceted” (13). She was a university student when she began her research and explored aspects of rap and hip-hop by bringing in the voices of critics and artists alike. While other works could perhaps provide a more detailed look at specific topics, Keyes offers a comprehensive base for further research into the musical, visual, cultural, and social aspects of rap and hip-hop. Further, the book contains a “Glossary of Common Rap Music Terms” toward the end. This tool can be helpful to anyone studying the genre.

Cheryl Keyes

Author of “Rap Music and Street Consciousness,” Cheryl Keyes

Keyes herself is a black, female researcher who is an outsider in the music industry. In the introduction to this book, she notes how her position as an outsider — and an insider because of her race and gender at times — helped frame her research and fieldwork. By disclosing the positive and negative ways her information gathering was affected by how she was perceived by those in the music industry, Keyes gives an honest account and recognizes her work’s strengths and limits.

Arachnophonia – MUS 235 Edition: Sounding Race In Rap Songs

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Editor’s note: Arachnophonia is a regular feature on our blog where members of the UR community can share their thoughts about resources from the Parsons Music Library‘s collection.

This special edition of Arachnophonia features contributions from students in Dr. Joanna Love‘s MUS 235 class: “I Want My MTV: Music Video and the Transformation of the Music Industry.”

All links included in these posts will take you to either the library catalog record for the item in question or to additional relevant information from around the web.
Today’s installment of Arachnophonia is by MUS 235 student Rachel and features a chapter from the book Sounding Race In Rap Songs entitled “Let Me Ride: Gangsta Rap’s Drive Into The Popular Mainstream”. Thanks, Rachel!

Sounding Race In Rap Songs by Loren Kajikawa

Sounding Race In Rap Songs

“‘Let Me Ride’: Gangsta Rap’s Drive into the Popular Mainstream” is the third chapter in Loren Kajikawa’s book Sounding Race in Rap Songs. The chapter focuses on how lyrics, imagery, and sound worked in tandem in LA-based gangsta rap. Kajikawa compares Dr. Dre’s work with gangsta group N.W.A. with singles from his solo career to identify the changes in sound, production, and aesthetic choices that allude to different ideas about race and politics.

Kajikawa beings the chapter by quoting Robin D. G. Kelley’s thoughts on the badass attitude emulated by rappers, especially during the Los Angeles Uprising in 1992. He explains that the purpose of inflating their personalities for being violent trouble makers, rappers were able to stand up to the powers and challenges that were oppressing them. This confidence allowed rappers to comment on issues such as police brutality, racial profiling, poverty, and the criminalization of black youth. With this in mind, Kajikawa hones in specifically on the aesthetic changes in Dr. Dre’s music and videos to see the development of such critiques.

Kajikawa quotes Murray Forman to explain that “rappers often cultivate and aura of authenticity tied to their respective ‘hoods.” N.W.A. does this with Compton, California to reflect the experience of the black community in LA. Kajikawa states that the conditions of the neighborhood N.W.A. identifies with offers insight into the decisions the group made in the making of their music and videos. From factories closing and laying off employees in the 60s, to rapid population increases in the 70s, to deindustrialization, LA was incredibly vulnerable and enabled by the mobility of capital. With the rise of the automobile industry and the construction of the freeway system, the excitement of newly accessible opportunities hid the isolation and dilapidation of poorer LA neighborhoods, like Compton. As a result, gangsta rap drew inspiration form the crime, violence, underground drug trade, and overall chaos in their community. These issues lead to an aggressive response by the LAPD, who sought to control the violence and sale of drugs with tactics such as search-and-seizure round ups and intimidation. N.W.A.’s adoption of the gangsta persona in their music served as an outlet to use the system that was working against them to make money.

NWA: Straight Outta Compton

NWA: Straight Outta Compton – Album Art (1988)

After establishing the roots and influences of N.W.A. and gangsta rap in general, Kajikawa transitions to more of a musical analysis of Dr. Dre’s work with and without N.W.A. In the song “Straight Outta Compton,” Dr. Dre samples a backbeat from the Winstons’ and includes a syncopated snare and bass loop that sounds similar to the commonly sampled “Funky Drummer” by James Brown. Dre includes numerous repeating sounds, 16-count hi-hats, and various instruments like guitar and a horn drone. Though some of the sounds appear to be sampled, Dr. Dre preferred to have studio musicians recreate preexisting parts of songs to allow him more control over the tracks.

Overall, Dre’s production of the song results in a punchy and staccato sound with a noisy beat. The instrumentation, combined with the inclusion of nonmusical sounds like gunshots, sirens, and screeching tires. reflects the lyrics extremely well, as the group raps about the violence and injustices they have experienced in Compton. The music video adds another layer of intensity to the song, matching the beat with jump cuts and shocking imagery. The video depicts the daily struggles of the members of N.W.A. and the black community in Compton in general, highlighting the LAPD’s harsh tactics. Shortly after the release of N.W.A.’s second album in 1991, Dr. Dre split from the group to focus on his solo career, which lead to a change in his sound.

Dr. Dre’s solo album, The Chronic, was released in 1992. Kajikawa notes the harsh shift (and dismissal) of Dre’s past music with N.W.A. Dre openly critiques his former partners in a way to prove his authenticity over theirs. Kajikawa uses “Nuthin’ But A ‘G’ Thang” and “Let Me Ride” to illustrate the changes in sound and production that Dr. Dre implemented. When considering the musical style and visuals of the accompanying videos, there is an obvious shift away from the violent struggles of life in Compton and a focus on the lifestyle and celebration of freedom and mobility. However, Kajikawa notes that the change in tone are found primarily in the music and imagery, as the lyrics still touch on a lot of the same themes. Ultimately, Dr. Dre’s solo album illustrates his success and momentum in society in a way that allowed listeners/viewers to identify with it.

Dr. Dre: The Chronic

Dr. Dre: The Chronic – Album Cover (1992)

Musically, Dr. Dre’s solo work took on the style of G-Funk, a term adopted from George Clinton’s P-Funk collective. This “freaky” sound drew inspiration from Leon Haywood’s “I Wanna Do Something Freaky To You,” which included a chiller groove and distorted guitar. Dr. Dre recreated (not sampled) the relaxed groove to loop in “Nuthin’ But A ‘G’ Thang.” By adding more percussion, the song lends itself to a danceable feel, which may have helped widen Dr. Dre’s audience. Additionally, Dre often used a Minimoog synthesizer (see photo). Since the use of synthesizers was huge in New Wave and pop music at the time, his music was likely able to transcend demographic lines. The delivery of the vocals in both “Let Me Ride” and “Nuthin’ But A ‘G’ Thang” are also drastically different, departing from the shouting of lyrics heard in N.W.A.’s music to a more conversational and sensual type of rapping. By adapting gangsta rap into “gangsta cool,” Dr. Dre also opened the door to radio play for his music.

Visually, Dr. Dre presents himself to be in a much different position than he was when he released music with N.W.A. In “Let Me Ride,” he illustrates his success by cruising around LA in a convertible, as opposed to being on foot. Instead of tense jump cuts, the video features fades in and out, matching the relaxed nature of the beat. Though some critics claim that The Chronic depoliticized gangsta rap in some ways, Dre definitely knew how to produce music that audiences would want to listen to.

In both eras, it is clear that Dr. Dre signifies different musicians and relevant cultural topics in his music via sampling and his lyrics. I found this source extremely helpful in gaining a better understanding of the regional history of rap, as well as the influences that shaped the nature of the lyrics and style heard in much of the rap music during the 80s and 90s. My paper aims to compare the ways in which different rappers have used music and videos to comment on issues surrounding racism, and this chapter offered a musical analysis that will help me better analyze the musical elements of other rap songs. Additionally, learning more about how Dr. Dre recreated songs as opposed to sampling straight from the track furthered my knowledge regarding how new artists pull from older artists to create something with a deeper meaning. Sampling continues to be a huge part of rap music today, so knowing more about the process and intentionality of it all is significant in understanding why certain samples are included in songs. Ultimately, I believe this source could help students looking to establish a deeper understanding of the musical styles and aesthetic choices of gangsta rap, as well as help students learn more about the significance of these deliberate choices.

Arachnophonia: Black Noise

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Editor’s note: Arachnophonia is a regular feature on our blog where members of the UR community can share their thoughts about items in the Parsons Music Library‘s collection. All links included in these posts will take you to either the library catalog record for the item in question or to additional relevant information from around the web.

Today’s installment of Arachnophonia is by Joanna Love, PhD, Assistant Professor of Music in the UR Music Department. Thanks, Joanna!

Black Noise: Rap Music and Black Culture in Contemporary America by Tricia Rose

Black Noise

Tricia Rose’s Black Noise: Rap Music and Black Culture in Contemporary America is a foundational piece of scholarship on hip hop culture. Written in the mid-1990s, it explores the complex economic, social, and cultural origins of hip hop. It also discusses the social and cultural implications of its many facets and prominent features, including rapping, DJing, B Boying/breaking, signifying, scratching, and sampling. Anyone interested in learning more about this genre should definitely read this book.