Why I Love Hip Hop

I hate the way fashion has to be written in the form of commandments; you know the “Thou shall not wear pointed shoes with skinny jeans!” Well anyhoo, who cares?

You will remember this if you are a true lover of hip hop and grew up in the 80’s/90’s era. Kangol hats? Adidas (without the laces)? Gold roped chains and a grand clock that hung as its pendant? And let’s not forget the Salt N Pepper leggings, the doorknocker earrings, the girls with the boy cut hair styles with a fringe hanging to the side. The inflated MC Hammer trousers and when it was cool to wear granny spectacles. The high top kicks, and the high top hair! The purple, the green, the orange - all worn together with political slogans embellished into t shirts.
And this was just the fashion. But this is why I fell in love with hip hop.

Now don’t get me wrong, I am not trying to emulate Sanaa Lathan in Brown Sugar, but when Keyshia Cole belted on her cover of Notorious B.I.G’s Juicy “they gone miss it like Biggie’s it was all a dream” that’s exactly the way I feel. I loved the Motown samples merged into Hip Hop and the way that handclaps and kicks drums thumped rhythm into your soul. Hip Hop was the culture while rap was the music. Hip Hop meant we could wear all our clothes excessively oversize, back to front or inside out. Rap meant we were the new generation of young people and society gave us hassle. Hip Hop meant we could perfect our graffiti art and our B-Boy stance. Rap meant we created iconic rhetorical phrases and if you know what’s coming next, then you were there to witness the birth of Hip Hop.

“Whose house?” No introduction needed. The legendary Rev Run, one third of hip hop pioneers RUN DMC, was living proof of how far Hip Hop has come. Alongside Spice Girl’s supreme member, Mel B, the reverend co -hosted the 2008 MOBO Awards. Long before Hip Hop became an East coast Vs West Coast thing, went down south and got Crunk and died. Hip Hop was about being funky, fresh and clean. There was no Range Rovers or grills, but roller-skates and one gold tooth. Rappers never got shot as a result of a freestyle clash. They went home and re-wrote lyrics for the next day cyphire. Most importantly, it wasn’t disrespectful and when things did get heated, we only went so far as “yo momma...” and we dare not finish the sentence with several obscenities.

But of course, times have progressed and we will never retrieve the golden era. But please do remember when people label booty shaking, cursing and a song using T pain’s auto tuner as Hip Hop, remind them that that isn’t B-Boy stance, that isn’t freestyle and that just isn’t HIP HOP. And if they want to know what is, tell them “I Am.” And that is exactly why I USED to love Hip Hop.



KAMARIA FLEARY