ONE Rakim, Ice Cube then Watch the Throne: Engaged Visibility through Identity Orchestration and the Language of Hip-Hop Narratives It goes without saying, then, that language is also a political instrument, means and proof of power. It is the most vivid and crucial key to identity: It reveals the private identity, and connects one with, or divorces one from, the larger public, or communal iden- tity (Baldwin 650). Stereotypes are elastic. They stretch to context and time in ways that posi- tion stale tropes as new. The portrait of Black men in America painted by main- stream devices is a prime example. Predator, athlete, rapper, comic, minstrel provide a type of cultural historical shorthand that has defined Black men in popular spaces for decades. They are accessible identities that intimate other and position Black men away from normalcy and full participation within larger society. And the presence of hip-hop within popular spaces has become ubiquitous. Though there are four pillars of the culture – graffiti art, break dancing and DJing among them – MCing has been absorbed by mass culture such that the rapper is almost singularly representative of the language of hip-hop. With this voice of primarily Black male expressions in the main, there is a disproportion- ately negative consideration of Black boys, Black men and by extension the Black family within modern media. This Moynihan-like framing summarizes the Black community as operating within a “tangle of pathology” (ch. 4). Of course, this fits the comfortable master narrative of racei for the Black family in the United States. It is a narrative extended by the misinterpretation and narrow understanding of Black masculinity in generalii, and in the position- ing of Black male voices as invisible. This invisibility, however, is incongruous considering the diversity of Black male narratives available from many of the MCs who are elevated by popular culture. The task here is to consider the multiple and varied life stories found in the language of hip-hop such that Black men and boys are understood relative to their identity form and function – beyond pathology. To most effectively do this 1 2 Chapter One there is the need for ontological and axiological contextualizing that allows for access to the visibility that hip-hop recording artists offer. Hip-Hop Narratives as a Language of Black Male Engagement Hip-hop is everyday. Popular culture has embraced the genre of music and its bombast as fun, good times. But with the juggernaut of popular hip-hop there is obfuscation. The insightful social critique and self-constructions of lyricists are reducible to caricature, beyond the pale of Good Timesiii satire even. As hip- hop is fit to every scenario, spun to sell every product and assumed a tool to understand the rough side of the mountain that is urban living, the voice of the culture is too often lost in translation. Those who tell the stories of self and community are celebrated primarily for tales of marginality. Context matters and the shine of pop spaces has poor lighting for whole persons. Other considerations of Black men in the mainstream provide equally vex- ing tumult. Ralph Ellison’s archetypal Invisible Man persists as clean illustra- tion of what it means to be a Black man – “people refuse to see me” (3) – at least within an American context. Distinguished psychologist Anderson J. Franklin makes even more real this literary construct offering, “invisibility [as] a psychological experience wherein the person feels that his or her personal iden- tity and ability are undermined by racism in a myriad of interpersonal circum- stances” (761). The iconography of hip-hop artists allows for a salient illustra- tion of invisible men. The images (often reducible to, and reinforcers of stereotype) are present, but the words are absent or are cursorily understood sans context, and this misunderstanding and misrepresentation can be, and is fre- quently generalized to a broad view of Black males and their identities. Black men are there, but then they are not – not in meaningful, community, engaged, society-advancing, real ways. This presents as particularly disturbing consider- ing the visibility that hip-hop offers through the narratives of developing Black men. Even with the 2008 election of Barack Obama to President of the United States, the want or willingness to understand Black males is slow going. Socio- cultural and political responses to Mr. Obama’s first term in office suggest con- spicuous regression toward the understanding of African-Americans in general, and certainly Black men specifically as inauthentically American or, if achieved, as exceptional. Such generalizations are compounded by assumptions of ar- rested development where the expectations of Black American males are held constant at adolescence. There is no developmental arc. This simplistic, under- developed and intellectually compromised orientation informs mass culture and eventually becomes a theoretical and interpretive framework from which Black males are studied (Rice, Positioning 2-3). Certainly, there is caution to be exercised in summarizing Black men through any singular lens, hip-hop or other. This is not what is suggested. A global perspective of Black men necessitates multiple arteries toward under- standing, chief among them engagement. The argument here is that the language of hip-hop narratives have the capacity to facilitate engagement and understand- Thinking toward Theory 3 ing when looked at beyond stereotype. There is visibility in the lyrics. The lives outlined simply need to be privileged as knowledge that is of value. Rakim and Ice Cube help in illustrating this potential with definitive per- sonal self-disclosure and revelation; and the Jay-Z/Kanye West long play Watch the Throne similarly demonstrates value of the lived experience, but from a more public, context-primed perspective. With their catalogues and positioning within hip-hop, Rakim, Ice Cube, Jay-Z and Kanye West show a push toward psychological balance that lends fullness to the consideration of who and how Black men are. The developing theory of Identity Orchestration (Rice, Position- ing 1-15; Rice et al. 86-88) dynamically responds to the work of each lyricist in his reconciling person to context. The construct provides scaffolding for their expressions of self through raced and gendered identity construction, and Winston’s (APA 1-13; Theory 1-33) theory of Race Self Complexity helps to bridge these lyricists’ storied lives and popular representations to psychological significance. Rakim and Ice Cube Portend the Throne, a Primer Rakim was patched into the fabric of hip-hop in the summer of 1987 as part of the DJ/MC duo Eric B. & Rakim with their release Paid in Full. The album practically defined contemporary hip-hop with a straight-ahead set of ten songs that included the seminal single “My Melody” that dropped the year before. Where there was certainly hip-hop before them, Eric B. & Rakim advanced the genre with innovative production and with Rakim’s mature, stylized and thoughtful rhymes. Acknowledged as helping to leverage a significant cultural shift forward for hip-hop in the late ‘80s, Rakim is understood along with Chuck D. and KRS-One as “ [a] serious Black [man] with something important to say” (Charnas 182). Rakim is often referred to as The God MC because of a deep respect af- forded him by peers, and because of a consistent emphasis on knowledge of self gained through his belief in the Nation of Gods and Earths – a religious offshoot of Islam (Knight 180) – since early recordings. It is not hyperbole to explain Rakim as the best MC ever. It is debatable, but no exaggeration. The master lyricist has his conversational flow imprint throughout modern rap music. Both mainstream and underground hip-hop artists acknowledge Rakim’s influence. Eminem has integrated classic Rakim into his songs, and “progressives” like Talib Kweli have done the same. Recording as a solo artist since 1997 to lesser renown than in his commer- cial prime with DJ Eric B., Rakim is not referenced by mass culture relative to his impact on hip-hopiv. This is unfortunate. Notable for his lack of profane lyrics, his framing of self is more inline with a whole story of the Black Ameri- can male than are pervasive associations with drug use, drug selling, material gains and sexual exploits. Ice Cube was the of voice Golden Agev West Coast hip-hop as lyrical archi- tect of the notorious rap collective N.W.A., and then with his solo discs AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted and Death Certificate. Cube was most easily iden- 4 Chapter One tified as that rapper with violent lyrics, a super wet Jheri Curl, an ever-furrowed brow, and who never smiled. His content and identity constructions were, and remain, part rough-edged social critique, sometimes misogynist jingles and without apology “g-a-n-g-s-t-a.” Ice Cube’s prevailing place within current popular culture is in stark con- trast to his recordings, having established himself as a strong earner as a televi- sion/movie producer and star. The content of Cube’s rhymes across albums, however, have remained consistently resistant despite his occasional fuzzy per- sona in films. It was, “F--k tha Police” in 1988 with N.W.A. and “Hood Rob- bin’” in 2010, where Cube weighs in on the mortgage crisis. The masculinities that Rakim and Cube occupy in their identities across their recorded works are complex. For those who give more than a passing con- sideration to hip-hop lyricism, this is not particularly novel from artist to artist. Stories of self relative to love, war, friendship, death, race, culture and faith are typical topics presented in an effort to negotiate emerging adolescence toward adulthood.