Author: Alex Winnick

This past weekend I got in a small dispute with a stranger over some of Hip Hop’s most influential characters. I attempted to explain how, in my opinion, The Roots are more musically talented than the Wu Tang Clan. This gentlemen, my adversary, was steadfast in his devotion to the Wu Tang Clan. Allow me to explain myself, I pleaded.

I understand how influential and pivotal the Wu Tang Clan were to the genre of Hip Hop music. They transformed it more significantly than possibly anyone other artists, and, in many people’s opinion, are considered to be the best rappers ever. I agree with this on some fronts. They were undoubtedly pioneers; but they primarily impacted the lyrical component of rap music. Their music is lyrically impeccable, it is true. It is sophisticated, meaningful and entertaining. Its use of wordplay and literary techniques are equal to those of playwrights and novelists. In fact, the “Hip Hop Shakespeare Company” conducts an exercise where they read lines from classic Shakespearian plays and sonnets or lines from Wu Tang Clan songs, and ask the audience to guess which one they come from. It is almost always impossible to tell, unless you have memorized both every word of Will’s and every word of Rae’s. From a lyrical standpoint, I understand why listeners have compared the Wu Tang Clan to the greatest playwright of all time. But I still like the Roots more.

The Roots, in my opinion, are much better musicians than the members of the Wu Tang Clan. They are much better artists. They have similar styles of rapping, and similar content, but it is the production that they diverge. The Roots, unlike many, many Hip Hop artists, create their own instrumentals. With actual instruments. Questlove, the drummer in the Roots, is one of the most talented drummers in the world. Fact. They are creating music from a much more organic approach; they are building everything themselves. What they lack in mind-blowing statements and enticing, politically charged comments they make up for in overall, aesthetic sound. They simply sound better. The music is more enjoyable to listen to. Wu Tang’s music, while important to hear and understand, is not as appealing. Notice the difference in these two songs. Listen to the way the beat completely changes and electrifies at the end of “Don’t Feel Right.” Appreciate Maimouna Youseff’s incredible voice and perfect hook. Then compare that to the static, minimalist sound underneath the just as perfect hook and brilliant lyricism of “M.E.T.H.O.D. Man.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K0ihRbPtfmA

One of my favorite Hip Hop albums of all time is Lupe Fiasco’s Food and Liquor, and has been for a long time. In high school English my class once discussed the elements that classify certain literature as “classic,” generating ideas such as timeless messages, relatable characters and producing the feeling of a new discovery while reading for it the umpteenth time. Under these criteria, Food and Liquor most assuredly deserves the same title. I was initially attracted to the album by its organized, powerful beats and Lupe’s smooth voice, not to mention his incredibly unique flow. The way his voice so effortlessly cascaded over the instrumentals struck me in a new way that Hip Hop had previously been unable to accomplish. I focused on memorizing every word of “Kick Push,” absorbing Lupe’s passion for skateboarding, let my mind enjoy the quick word-play and sharp lyricism of “I Gotcha” and used “The Emperor’s Soundtrack” to harness my adrenaline before sporting events. I adapted the album and used it to get closer to Lupe, in turn helping me transition into the world of Hip Hop. The album reached me at a surface level; I took delight in the sound, and lost myself in the feeling it created. The meaning behind it, upon first listen, eluded me.

I return now to dig deeper, and pronounce Food and Liquor as one of the most socially conscious rap albums of all time, and secure it unequivocally among my top three favorites. One of the most important segments of the entire seventy-two minutes occurs in the first sixty seconds, in the “Intro.” So eager to hear the album, I used to foolishly skip over the prelude; for years its message escaped me and therefore misguided the rest of my listening experience. Lupe’s sister, Iesha Jaco, performs a spoken word poem to commence the album, accurately describing common landmarks and summarizing the culture of low-income, impoverished neighborhoods. She brilliantly identifies how these areas are overpopulated by unhealthy, inexpensive food dispensaries such as fast food restaurants and liquor stores, adding the first layer of meaning to the album’s title. The poem sets the tone for the rest of the tracks, establishing that this album was born in and evolved from the West side of Chicago, and addresses many of the problems Lupe witnessed.

One way he accomplishes this is through storytelling. In a number of songs, including “He Say She Say,” “The Cool,” and “Kick Push (II)” Lupe divulges short anecdotes that illustrate the problems about which he is concerned. “He Say She Say” tells the story of a child growing up without a father, and how that negatively impacts his life. Both verses are identical except that the first is from the mother’s perspective, and the second is from the boy’s, meaning the only words that change are the pronouns: him changes to me, his to mine, etc. The impact is enormous. Or “The Cool,” which tells the story of a drug dealer shot on the street, who wakes up in his grave, returns to his home with a different appearance and gets robbed by the same men who killed him. When threatened with a gun he responds, “Hustler for death, no heaven for a gangster.” Lupe drastically explains how a lifestyle of selling drugs can be impossible to escape from, saying that this man is a “Hustler for death” opposed to a “Hustler for life.”

Perhaps my favorite verse on the entire album is the first portion of “Hurt Me Soul,” a lyrically brilliant statement about Hip Hop and American politics. The first verse addresses Lupe’s initial conflicts with the genre of Hip Hop, citing notoriously crude and controversial rapper Too Short and his use of the word “bitch.” However, Lupe explains how his experiences allowed him to relate to the culture and see past Too Short to its real value. Lupe, unlike other rappers, uses Hip Hop as a mechanism to reach his audience- not one of consumers, but of people who share the same experiences or are dedicated to social change. “Hurt Me Soul” is about the ramifications that US policy has on the individual person, especially underprivileged Americans, and Lupe represents that. He is serving as a voice for these people, advocating on their behalf when nobody else will. That is the essence of Food and Liquor. That is why Lupe is a socially conscious Hip Hop artist. He has experienced adversity, he is familiar with the struggle, and despite his success and fame he continues to be aware of it. Iesha Jaco finishes her introductory poem with the line, “But God has another solution, that has evolved from the hood.. I present one who turns, the Fiasco to good.” For anyone attempting to find social justice in Hip Hop, look no further.

The University has Michigan has continued to display its astonishing ability to host first-rate events in the past few weeks, especially those honoring Black History Month. About a week ago, on February 10, nationally renowned spoken word poet J Ivy headlined a spoken word event at the UMMA. The evening began with an open mic portion, allowing a dozen or so aspiring poets to showcase their talents. I had the honor of joining them when the MC asked for an additional five performers from the audience, which gave me the very unique opportunity of reading my poetry in front of over 100 people. Although I was quite clearly an amateur and my poem did not have the substance of some others, (I immediately followed a girl who read her incredible poem about a girl being raped) the crowd warmly accepted my efforts. That is the beauty of an open mic- the quality is less important than the actual process of performing. The other poets were all far more talented than I was, and kept the audience thoroughly entertained before J Ivy’s segment.

Then it came time for the star. J Ivy has been featured on HBO’s Def Poetry several times, and is most famous for his collaboration with Kanye West on the song “Never Let Me Down” on Kanye’s first album, College Dropout. J Ivy adds an entire spoken word poem (which he gave a rendition of at the event) in the middle of the song, which is also a testament to Kanye’s unparalleled creative genius. On Friday, J Ivy performed for over half an hour, reading some poems while also performing others. I particularly liked how he engaged the audience throughout the show, (“And the church says…”) and even jumped off stage during his finale. My favorite poem of his was called “Blind Date,” which told the story of a blind date he once went on that turned into a set-up to mug him. The story was so interactive, so vivid that it captured all of J Ivy’s best qualities in one poem. This entire event was the epitome of what a University-sponsored show should be: an opportunity for students to get experience performing followed by a professional exhibiting the art at its finest.

This past Friday, the 17, I took part in another student-performed event at the Work Gallery on State Street: the Word of Mouth Story Slam. Completely student run, the story slam crew hosts an event every month, in which students compete by getting five minutes to tell any story he or she chooses, based on that night’s theme. The stories are then scored on a ten-point scale by three different judges; the storyteller awarded the most amount of points wins. A few nights ago, as it was so close to Valentine’s Day, the theme was infatuation. Stories ranged from a girl’s infatuation with quirky situations, to the telltale signs of how a boy knew he was interested in a girl, to a serious account of a college romance. I was the second-to-last performer (out of ten) to tell a story, and I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. As it was a much smaller crowd than the spoken word event, the acts were not nearly as strictly prepared and I was able to be much more personal and relaxed. I highly recommend the events to anyone who is looking for a night of intimate, enjoyable conversation and some darn good stories. There is only one slam left this school year, the Grand Slam in March, which will feature all of the winners of the events this year, so the performances will surely be worthwhile. Make sure you get to Work Gallery- I guarantee it will be worth your time.

“I’m standing on this stage right now because I love Hip-Hop. I love what Hip-Hop has done for my life,” boasted independent artist “The Narcicyst.” He was among a host of other musicians who professed their adoration and respect for Hip-Hop at the “Midwest Hip Hop Summit” this weekend. The national non-profit “Hip Hop Congress” launched the 8^th annual convention Friday night, with an amazing, intimate, four-hour concert on the second floor of the Michigan League. The theme of the concert truly encapsulated the essence of the culture- using elements of powerful self-expression and social conscious to foster individual happiness and tangible societal change. Each artist or band took the stage and proudly announced their love of the culture and how it has helped them grow. The acts were so incredible because most of these musicians are not signed to a label; they are not making millions of dollars and getting record deals. They are merely using their passion for music to strive for change in their communities. For any Hip-Hop fan, it was truly a magical atmosphere.

Much to my chagrin I arrived right after the first act, the all-female group of MC’s from Detroit called “The Foundation.” I had heard of them before, and I have an overwhelming faith that they started the night off on a perfect note. When I got to the concert the local Hip Hop group entitled “Tree City” was entertaining the crowd. Formed by three MC’s and a few musicians, Tree City represented Ann Arbor and gave the crowd a unique, amusing performance. One of my favorite aspects of the evening, which was enforced primarily by Tree City, was how evident it was that all of these artists truly love what they do. Tree City will never be famous, but they were ecstatic to just be in front of an audience and perform on the same stage as the likes of Big K.R.I.T.  After their performance, one of Tree City’s rappers joined the crowd and was grooving along with the rest of us. That is what Hip-Hop is all about.

Next on stage was rapper OneBeLo, another Michigan native and crowd-pleaser. His music had a much larger emphasis on lyricism; with no live band he used all synthesized beats, and his DJ would often pause or terminate the music to allow Lo to finish the song a cappella. This allowed the audience to better hear his words, and for listeners such as myself who had never heard his music before, this was extremely helpful. While seeing a new rapper for the first time it can be tremendously hard to discern any differences between songs, which is why OneBeLo’s slower tempo and lack of overpowering beats came as a relief.

My favorite act of the night was not in fact the headliner. With two acts left before Big K.R.I.T. appeared, Maimouna Youssef and her funky reggae band graced the stage. Maimouna was easily one of the most talented artists I have ever had the pleasure of seeing. From the moment she got on stage the crowd could sense her lovable, mellow attitude, and the unity of her entire band (which included two guitarists, a pianist and a drummer). Maimouna, who has been nominated for a Grammy and used to perform with the Roots, guided the audience through her repertoire of soulful, R&B and reggae influenced music and proved her skill level. There were honestly too many elements of her performance I loved to be able to choose a favorite, including her cover and remix of the Beatle’s classic “Come Together,” her brief explanation of how she once gave up Hip-Hop, only to find artists like A Tribe Called Quest and Common, and re-discover her passion. She ended the performance with a rendition of her song “Free as a Bird,” showcasing live recordings of her voice singing different melodies, which were then looped continuously and played over each other. She literally built her beat on stage in front of us, and then proceeded to sing for four minutes over it. That is talent only the best musicians can exhibit.

The last two acts, “The Narcicyst” and Big K.R.I.T., despite having to keep an exhausted audience energized, further enhanced the mood and wonder of the show. To my surprise, Big K.R.I.T. did not seem at all perturbed about the mediocre audience in front of him. On the contrary, he seemed to enjoy interacting with the audience, which allowed for a much more personal show. For his last song Big K.R.I.T. jumped off the stage and bounced around between his fans while rapping. This single act captured the overall theme of the night: that Hip-Hop is a culture meant for anyone and everyone to enjoy. It wasn’t crazy, it wasn’t sold out, it wasn’t a business front; it was just Hip Hop.

This past weekend Hill Auditorium hosted an Ann Arbor tradition- the Folk Festival. Although I was unable to attend either night of the festival, I realized it provided an appropriate opportunity for me to discuss my recent obsession with folk singers “The Avett Brothers.” Consisting of Scott and Seth Avett, the folk rockers have produced some truly incredible music. I usually try to run as fast as I can away from any noise that even barely resembles Country music, but I somehow can withstand the minor country influence in their songs. It is primarily folk music, which I don’t have much affiliation with to begin with, but it has some partial rock background as well. I particularly enjoy the their music because unlike the repertoire of some acoustic musicians, the Avett Brothers create songs that remain under the same genre but are easily distinguishable and unique. Their broad range of styles and instruments help them come up with different ways to make their music, so much that it is hard to categorize them under one name. As a pair, they work extremely well together, and often vary as to who is singing lead vocals and who is providing the accompaniment, as well as switching the use of instruments.

Their album, I and Love and You is one of the most cohesive and deep albums that has come out in the past couple of years. It ranges from gentle acoustic songs such as “January Wedding” to energetic, dynamic songs like “The Perfect Space,” yet all the while sustaining a very high quality. I am constantly and wonderfully surprised as to how much I enjoy each of the songs on the album. I actually started listening to the Avett Brothers when my sister played me the song “Murder in the City,” which is one of my favorites of their’s. I first heard the song and thought, this is probably an exception and I won’t like the rest of the music. One album later and I am overjoyed by the delightful sounds the formed by the combination of their voices, the innovative ways they harmonize and the thoughtful and quirky themes in their lyrics. Their songs are extremely relatable and undeniably truthful, which adds an amazing element of personality. The Avett Brothers embody the tranquil, meaningful ideals upon which events such as the Ann Arbor Folk Festival are built. I highly recommend listening to the album I and Love and You even if you generally are opposed to folk music. You might just change your mind.

My top favorite songs: Murder in the City, I and Love and You, January Wedding, and Ten Thousand Words

What has glowing lights, reaches about ten feet high, is rumored to cost 30,000 dollars and has absolutely no purpose on this planet? That’s right, you guessed it! The Rainbow Wall in the basement of Couzens Hall. Fortunate enough to be placed in the brand new, hotel-style dormitory on the Hill for my freshman year of college, I was ecstatic to see how beautiful and high-tech all of the facilities were in my dorm, but I was also puzzled when I first walked into what now is referred to as “The Rainbow Room.” Like most of the convenient and fully equipped study rooms in the basement, the Rainbow Room has an assortment of tables and chairs conducive to working and socializing. This room is unique, however, because it is also home to a monstrous wall with a giant screen on the front that does nothing but display a lazy combination of swirls of colors in every shade of the rainbow. It has three or four set patterns of movement, and shuffles through these every hour of every day. It actually does nothing else.

Supposedly, its function is to serve as a giant speaker, and the light displays are supposed to align and match the beats of the music. Have you ever used the iTunes visualizer? Or maybe you remember those old mac screensavers that bounced light around in different designs? Essentially, this wall is a huge screensaver that bobs to music. We are more than halfway through the school year, and I have only seen someone use the rainbow wall’s speaker system once. The lights didn’t look any different with music. The University spent 30K on a two-hour dance party for seven people. That’s probably worth it.

Of my many reasons to be outraged by this installment to our dorm, the first is its cost. While I have not confirmed the price, the general rumor admits that it cost around 30,000 dollars to install. Here’s a list of things we could have used 30,000 dollars for, instead of an oversized light-brite: two semesters of in-state tuition at the University of Michigan, practically one semester of out-of-state tuition at that same University, a non-profit striving for any sort of positive change (of which there are literally thousands in this country), researching cures for terminal illnesses, the construction of another homeless shelter in Ann Arbor (as of November, 2011 there was only one in operation), fixing the appalling recycling system in the dorms, turning more of the Michigan busses into the new hybrid, clean-energy busses and countless other altruistic causes. Instead, the Housing department decided to spend its additional cash (which more likely that not came in part from students’ tuition) on the Rainbow Wall.

Once we look past the atrocious amount of money we spent to get the wall inside the building, we now can focus on how much money and electricity we are wasting to keep it running at all times of the day. I’m not sure if people still think we have an infinite, unlimited amount of electricity on our planet, but I regretfully inform them that this is, in fact, a myth. We are rapidly using up our sources of energy, and should not be using what limited resources we have on colored lights. Want to look at a rainbow? Walk outside after it rains or turn on PBS.

My third and final complaint is of the Housing department in general. They constructed the wall in the first place because they place an enormous emphasis on presenting an affluent, technologically advanced décor, but also claim to of consider practical, environmentally friendly alternatives. My entire dorm is decorated in this plush, pseudo-wealthy fashion that tries so hard to exude affluence, when it is actually made from recycled materials. Which is great, but then there are also between seven and ten flat screen TV’s that rarely get used. Meanwhile, students are struggling to pay back loans and debts and unemployment levels are still high. In the grand scheme of the school’s massive budget the Rainbow Wall is probably insignificant, but it still represents Michigan’s ambition to flaunt an elite, technologically advanced pretense that is completely unnecessary and undeniably wasteful. The Rainbow Wall is a heinous, ugly, unconscionable use of money, and I sincerely hope that there are not plans for similar atrocities in the upcoming renovations to East Quad, Alice Lloyd, and Baits I. There is simply no need to waste that much money on something that offers no real benefits. If the University is indeed trying to “Go Green” I suggest they put forth their full efforts, instead of backing up recycled carpet with three screen projectors in one single room.