If My President is Black, Does That Mean My Hip Hop Will Be, Too?

Much hoopla was made about Young Jeezy’s “I f---k with John McCain” comment in the August issue of Vibe. In an election year, where political allegiance in rap music is as tantamount to maintaining street cred as proving your tired loyalty to street corners and the drug game, Jeezy almost became hip-hop music’s first casualty of the hard lines drawn (and the high stakes sought) in this years’ political Main Event. (Though a gangsta emcee’s brief allegiance to the Republican Party is nothing new. Remember Eazy E’s attendance of a Republican fundraiser in ’93 and 50 Cent, in 2005, expressing an overwhelming desire to shake President Bush’s hand and “tell him how much of me I see in him?”) But it was interesting to see Jeezy’s diligent response to the perceived misstep, posting a video and issuing a press release stressing his support of Barack Obama. The ultimate peace offering was his false promise to post the song “My President is Black,” from his up-coming disc The Recession, on his Web site.

The fact that Jeezy put his political spin (even the issue of having to pay for his mom’s operation because she had no health insurance) on the Web was in lock-step with hardcore rap’s 21st Century means of immediately getting notes-from-underground out to its constituency (Thanks Chucky D for getting that ball rolling in 1999). Though, it was what Jeezy said in his video response that rang most ironic and revelatory about how rap artists see themselves, particularly Jeezy’s statement about what he’s learned from his ordeal:

For my words to get mixed up at a time like this …It just showed me the power of words…As a young black man…it just showed me that I have a voice…

Finally, a gangsta rap artists who sees the profundity—though under much duress—of what he/she says. Is this the sound of a gangsta rapper finally admitting that what they say does matter (as oppose to, “we just entertainers.”) And this at a time when Nas’s much-publicized message to Jesse Jackson, after his castrating comment about Barack, and the old guard of black leadership was: “All you old n---as, time is up. We heard your voice, we saw your marching, we heard your sermons. We don't wanna hear that sh-- no more. It's a new day. It's a new voice. I'm here now. We don't need Jesse; I'm here. I got this. We got Barack, we got David Banners and Young Jeezys. We're the voice now.”

Now, don’t get me wrong, I laugh at such assertions as Najee Ali did when he wrote: “Who on earth would actually follow these malt liquor drinking, misogynistic, drug using, gang banging idiots?” But, in this historical election year, it’s refreshing to see hardcore rap artists at least talk of some responsibility as far as leadership (ha!).

Ironically, the only other mainstream rapper who seemed to take this idea seriously, especially during the last election cycle, was Eminem, who bypassed fearful record labels and music label channels by releasing the video for his anti-Bush song “Mosh” on the Internet. Didn’t get Kerry elected, but it showed that an election could make Eminem take his role, his influence, and his honesty seriously.

But given Jeezy’s revelation, his pro-black presidential stance, and an insistence that his up-coming album will deal with issues—in the face of this important presidential race—like poverty, the economy, high gas prices, etc. might we be looking at how a Barack win might impact hardcore rap. After all, this summer will be hit with two rap song’s—Nas’s “Black President” and Jeezy’s “My President is Black”—that celebrate the hope of a Barack win. Not that it would mean a total return to hip-hop’s black nationalist days of 20 years ago (though, you have to admit, it’s a coincidence that this promise comes on the 20th anniversary of hip-hop music’s golden era).

But, historically speaking, presidential politics do affect the tint of particular eras in rap music. Enough has been written about how the policies of Reagan and his Republican revolution helped usher in hip-hop’s black-is-back phase, and a Bush continuation accompanied rap’s gangsta explosion. Clinton and the record-breaking economy, which characterized his eight years, gave a boost to the ice age of commercial rap. Moreover, the tight-fisted rule of Bush No. 2 saw a smattering of consciousness come back to the music, but, still under the delusional affect of corporate love, control, and money, rap, like most of America, stuck to escapism. But now that the music industry’s in the toilet and folks, especially those of generation hip hop, are totally underwhelmed by commercial rap’s emptiness—those sagging record sales ain’t just because of downloading—maybe the music might find inspiration and fresh content with a black president in the white house.

Hell, if a misstep—or, in this case a perceived misquote—about allegiance to Barack could have a hardcore rap negro shakin’ in his Chuck’s and proving his loyalty to the streets by showing his love for a black candidate, then the possibility for a renaissance in rap might just be….