By Revolution Mary

 

I went to the “Back to Basics” show hosted by Sway and King Tech down in L.A. last weekend.  Moving around from the general area, back stage, and the over-21 area let me view both artist and audience from different vantage points.  A few things I noticed were that like nearly every other hip hop show I’ve attended, the audience was predominantly non-black and male, although there were more women and black people than I had expected to see.  Backstage, it was interesting to see the progression from me being one of the only women with access early on, to being one of the many as the show came to a close.  I wondered who all of these women were showing up after midnight to a concert that started at 8?  Furthermore, how were they getting backstage access and why were they all sexied-up and not in the b-girl attire like the rest of us who really came for the show?  Clearly, they weren’t there to see their favorite underground MCs like me, or the woman I met outside begging me to help her get in as she had driven all the way from the Bay to see the Rza, but forgot her I.D.

 

Being that this was an underground, and at least partially conscious show, my misogyny defenses were down and I saw no need to even whip out my “bling repellent."  After all, one after another, MCs got on the mic disapproving of the beef between Blacks and Latinos, referencing the recent tensions in L.A.  “Hip Hop is about unity,” they said.  “I’m Black and Latino!” Chino XL proclaimed, “What? Am I supposed to beef with myself?”  So yeah, I felt I was in a safe space. 

 

With my misogyny defenses down, I was caught wide open when Sway motioned for us to come on stage.  It had been a feel-good vibe up until that point so my energy was light, my body was fluid, moving to the rhythms and the clever rhymes ringing out.  Sly Boogie was on stage as we came into the light.  The crowd’s energy was high as Sway announced the line-up of an upcoming show and teased the crowd with the Rza’s approach to the stage.  Sly Boogie then continued, and I continued to move to his flow, getting hype off the crowd and this rare on-stage vantage point I had.  All of a sudden, my light, feel-good energy abruptly shifted.  No longer was my body fluid and swaying to the rhythm.  I lost the beat and became conscious that my female body—as the only woman on stage—was a symbol of support, of affirmation, of consent as the MC yelled “I’m fuckin somethin tonight!”  I froze.  It was a short moment but it seemed that when he said that, the entire crowd looked at me for validation.  Would I continue to rock and bounce as I had been, or would there be some visible change in my demeanor showing my disgust with the lyric?  I was embarrassed and pissed all at once, for by my presence alone during those few bars, I was an accomplice in my own disrespect!…Present-day hip hop has a tendency to do that to it’s lady listeners.

 

The vibe was lost for me as Rza’s crew—all male—about 15 deep joined us on stage.  I slid off stage, the numbing sensation moving from my head to my feet as the misogyny shield locked in place and blocking the music’s access to my spirit.  I complained to my boy as we left the stage that when I support underground artists who promote themselves as conscious, I expect them to temper their misogyny so I can at least ignore it if I want to.  I was being sarcastic, but this is a real conclusion I’ve drawn.  If I, and the countless number of women-hating MCs are going to share this space called hip hop, we’re at least gonna have to come to this preliminary compromise.  After all, Hip Hop is about unity, right?  I’m a woman and I’m hip hop.  What?!  Am I supposed to beef with myself?!!!

 

I tried to regroup from the disappointing I love myself and hip hop buzz-kill that Sly Boogie induced.  I was sure that Talib Kweli would bring that old feeling back.  He’ll make it so I can regain that I love myself and hip hop high I had just a few hours earlier.  I thought to myself, I can count on Kweli to remind everyone that we women are Beautiful, like he and MJB said.  He’ll tell those other MCs to respect this Brown Skin Lady. Yeah, I thought, my boy Talib will bring it back to Love, not the love, which everybody hides behind, saying they do it for the love, which implies the love of the culture, the music, or the love of hip hop.  No, Talib will bring it back to plain ole love. Love shared between people, for each other, and for ourselves.  Kweli will bring it back and end the show by restoring that feel-good vibe—the I love myself and hip hop feeling that’s so hard for me to hold on to these days. 

 

Sway welcomed him to the stage and the crowd seemed as ready as I was…to get “Back to Basics."  But who was Talib’s hype man, and why was he completely ruining my Kweli experience?  He was this rising comedian/actor, and it’s probably a good thing I can’t remember his name because if I could, I’d probably return The Hate U Gave!!!  As Talib took a water break, ‘dude’ proceeded to rant on and on about how “there ain’t no love."  He said, “if you gonna love something, love your money” (a sentiment I heard far too many times throughout the night).  He continued, “cause women are shady!”  Whaaat?! “ Women are sneaky!” he said.  “They’re conniving! So fuck love!  Put your “L”s in the air for ‘life’, cause there ain’t no love!”  I couldn’t believe it!  While the crowd had their life-not-love “L”s up, I had my left hand, middle finger up.

 

It was a reactionary gesture on my part, I admit, so I clenched my hand into a fist as an act of defiance, resistance, and disapproval of what he was doing.  My clenched fist was also a subliminal call to Kweli to get back on the mic and defend, protect and console me like he does in his music…But he didn’t.  He just laughed and continued the show as he shrank back into a mere mortal in my once admiring eyes.

 

I left the show with that uncomfortable feeling that I’ve been trying for years to ignore; that I hate hip hop feeling. Why? Because apparently hip hop hates me.  How am I, as a woman, a Black woman, with a keen third-eye, self-respect, and a value for the true essence of hip hop culture, supposed to embrace an art that poisons me?  How can I love an art—and the artists who create it—that don’t want to love me back?  How is it that I can contribute consistently to an artists’ livelihood by spending my money on their product and buying tickets to their shows, yet they don’t even honor the reason why I support them in the first place? 

 

Frankly, I’m tired of having my love of hip hop used against me.  Tired of collaborating with rappers in their disrespect of women by my support of them and their music, and I know other women (and revolutionary men) are tired of it too.  I would venture to guess that women are Talib Kweli’s biggest support base.  What if all of a sudden we said, no more?  Would MCs then start begging the question “where’s the love” then?

 

I’m not suggesting any sort of boycott of Talib Kweli.  This experience doesn’t mean I’m no longer a fan, and will stop supporting him.  But it does mean that I’m disappointed because I know he knows better, and as a consistent buyer of his music, I feel at liberty to tell him what I think.  If hip hop is a community, if it is about unity, then I think we all need to step up and check each other more often.  Women need to speak up and say when shit ain’t cool.  As consumers of rap music and as members of the hip hop family, we have that right.  Fellas need to call each other out too, like I was expecting Talib to do to his hype man.  Really it’s simple.  Like the purpose of the tour, it’s time…to bring it “Back to Basics” and make hip hop a communal conversation again.  I know I’m not the only woman who is unwilling to be seen and not heard.