Talking Dub & Hip Hop.
This is part two of a three part article exploring examples where the voice is employed in the musical mix more as narrator or commentator than a singer. Part one ‘Talking in Style‘ illustrated how words created in one context and for another purpose could find new life as part of a new creative work. Here we explore another style of storytelling in music.
The popular music genre, hip hop currently dominates the intersections of spoken word and music art forms. Is it poetry? Is it song? Is it something else? Personally, I think the worlds of both hip hop and dub poetry have a great deal to teach us. Undoubtedly, some poetry purists will roar with rage. The bards will storm my gates; or at least spew bile through their social media hoses at me. Before inflicting this terrible fate upon me I would like to add further fuel to the fire by introducing some AI (Artificial Intelligence) into this mix. Consider this article from the ‘Machine-Learning Algorithm Mines Rap Lyrics, Then Writes Its Own‘ (MIT Technology Review, 20 May 2015) about the development of an automated rap generating algorithm by Eric Malmi and colleagues at the University of Aalto in Finland. The article includes the following
Adam Bradley, a professor of English at the University of Colorado has described it [rapping] in glowing terms. Rapping, he says, crafts “intricate structures of sound and rhyme, creating some of the most scrupulously formal poetry composed today.”
The highly structured nature of rap makes it particularly amenable to computer analysis. And that raises an interesting question: if computers can analyze rap lyrics, can they also generate them?
These guys have trained a machine-learning algorithm to recognize the salient features of a few lines of rap and then choose another line that rhymes in the same way on the same topic. The result is an algorithm that produces rap lyrics that rival human-generated ones for their complexity of rhyme.
Various forms of rhyme crop up in rap but the most common, and the one that helps distinguish it from other forms of poetry, is called assonance rhyme. This is the repetition of similar vowel sounds such as in the words “crazy” and “baby” which share two similar vowel sounds. (That’s different from consonance, which uses similar consonant sounds, such as in “pitter patter” and different from perfect rhyme where words share the same ending sound such as “slang” and “gang.”
The above suggests that far from dismissing hip hop and rap as unworthy of serious poetic consideration it may instead be a very worthwhile investment of time and a valuable source of new creative ideas and potential synergies with other forms and genres.
I’m UK based and for those not familiar with the world of hip hop and rapping, but are prepared to invest their time in finding out more, I would recommend a visit to the BBC Radio 2 podcast Romesh Ranganathan: For The Love of Hip Hop. Ranganathan, also a well-known comedian and television presenter does more than just play music. He invariably manages to slip in some good educational snippets as well.
While there is a wider cultural and artistic infrastructure associated with hip hop, from a musical perspective, it’s most closely associated with the rapid rhythmic speech patterns known as rap. Rap is usually synchronised with a 4/4 drum or other instrument beat, but it can also be performed a cappella. Rap was around long before the modern hip hop culture emerged. The advent of electronic drum machines and beatboxes in the 1970s provided a relatively affordable toolkit for nascent hip hop artists to explore and develop their raps, an art form where the words are the lead element rather than the melodies and harmonies. That provided a creative vehicle for telling stories and sharing life experiences or perspectives. In comparison to a cosy world of love songs and gentle romantic poetry, some of those stories, experiences and perspectives were, and some still are, raw, harsh, aggressive, and sometimes outright disturbing. In the hip hop world raps were expected to reflect the reality of the world (or the street) as viewed or experienced by the author/artist. One other aspect of hip hop culture of relevance to all three parts of this series of articles is that of sampling, i.e. where a variable sized vocal or instrumental element of another work is incorporated (and sometimes modified or transformed) and becomes part of a new work. In part one that opened this series, for example, the piece ‘In Smiling in Slow Motion’ was using samples from earlier recordings as part of a new creative production.Sampling, shouldn’t be confused with plagiarism since the intention is not misrepresentation, but to build upon and reform. That still leaves considerable scope for disputes, however, particularly when sampled work is perceived to become more artistically successful than the original source(s). Many of the beats underpinning even leading rap artists work are reincarnations and variations of long-established 4/4 breakbeats. As indicated earlier and below such sampling is not exclusive to hip hop and indeed the art and science of sampling is now developed to such a high degree of granularity, precision and fidelity that it is now omnipresent, although not always perceived.
Around the same time as hip hop was emerging some DJs were transforming from being a simple presenter, advocate, or sequencer of records to becoming a performer in their own right either as an MC (Master of Ceremonies) or ‘Toaster’ at parties (or later as electronic-music composers/producers). In the UK and elsewhere the Afro-Carribean communities did much to develop the MC/deejay/toaster role for the dancehall style of reggae music which would sometimes use instrumental versions of another record, usually emphasising the drum and bass. These so called ‘riddims’ provided a framework for an MC to improvise his/her spiel over and could become effectively a new musical production. In hip hop parlance such riddims are known as ‘beats’.
A synergistic development with the above was the emergence of the dub poets like Linton Kwesi Johnson and Benjamin Zephaniah whose performance verse are prepared rhythmic works of incisive political and social commentary sometimes with a reggae style backing and sometimes not. For example, Zephaniah’s ‘In this World‘ from the album Revolutionary Minds is a spoken social commentary over a reggae beat but yet the effect of both is synergistic and transforms it from a speech into something else. Again while some may not always agree with Zephaniah’s world view, the rhythm and power of his spoken words and the inherent musicality of his voice are always worthy of admiration, as is the way they complement the music and vice-versa.
One of my own experiments in dub poetry entitled ‘Truth Dies‘ (Dada de Dada, 29 December 2022) cannot possibly match Zephaniaha’s virtuosity but its was an interesting reuse of the ubiquitous Tempo dub riddim (rhythm) in a different way, albeit with a celtic brogue twist. An audio extract from this Truth Dies article is included below.
At the time of writing, however, it’s hip hop which has become the dominant contemporary popular music genre. Below I list a few of the artists who I find of interest mainly because they demonstrate the flexibility of the genre and moved it beyond raw machismo, invective, and braggadocio. Some encapsulate powerful and contentious messages and some are prepared to be quite self-deprecating. But we don’t always need to agree with a world view to admire creativity and artistry. It’s probably best to assume a general trigger warning for this verbal art form because it sometimes articulates a visceral world and lifestyle/experiences far removed from the world of some listeners. On the one hand describing a gritty sometimes dangerous environment of winners and losers and on the other celebrating the overcoming of adversity and on to eventual success – inevitably via the very music they are performing.
Kano (This is England) – Kano is a British actor best known for his leading role in the crime drama Top Boy He is also an accomplished songwriter and rapper with many awards and albums to his name. This is England carries forward the tradition of dub poetry into rapid fire rap.
Slick Rick (Children’s Story) – A touch of humour but a serious serious message.
Eminem (Stan feat. Dido) – Not one for the sensitive or the depressed.
Loyle Carner (Georgetown feat. John Agard) – Same principle as ‘In Smiling in Slow Motion’ as featured in part one of this article. The words of the poet John Agard take on a new potency within Carner’s production.
Coolio (Gangsta’s Paradise feat. LV) – Released in 1995 it became a global hit and one of the greatest rap songs of all time. The words still resonate. Given an added poignancy by Coolio’s early death from natural causes in 2022.
Lupe Fiasco (Ms Mural) – Deep dark lyrics. Needs several listens to begin to grasp the message.
Eric B & Rakim (I Know You Got Soul) – A master class in rap braggadocio, perfect timing and vocal clarity.
Little Simz (NPR Tiny Desk: Home Concert) – Like Kano (see above) the British singer and rapper Little Simz is also a talented actress (Top Boy et al). But note that her link is to a full 20 minute event rather than a single track. For those unfamiliar with the NPR Tiny Desk series the basic concept is that leading musicians perform in the intimate setting of the National Public Radio offices in Washington DC. The venue may appear to be small but the visual and audio quality is invariably superb. The ‘Home Concert’ variants were created to keep the flag flying during the height of the Covid pandemic and as the Little Simz set demonstrates her particular ‘bubble’ still managed to deliver something very polished.
Coby Sey (Dial Square) – First heard on BBC Radio 3’s experimental/adventurous music programme Late Junction in the Albums of the Year episode. Coby Sey is a south London musician and song writer. I’ve included him in the hip hop section but his relaxed yet incisive narrative style also has some similarities with that employed by Yard Act (see part 3). A recent media review describes his style thus:
Sey’s zigzagging spoken word and unpolished melodies sit somewhere at the confluence of a multitude of genres (jazz, dub, noise, experimental electronic, trip-hop; his sound has sometimes been categorised as “post-grime”).
Tara Joshi, The Guardian. 5 November 2022
In part three of this article I explore authenticity.
