Since its beginnings, hip-hop has been a male-dominated art form, characterized by masculine posturing and braggadocio. Along with its manly attitudes has come an unhealthy dose of misogyny and homophobia — sometimes as a side effect, and sometimes as a key theme.
And while there have always been dissenters and crusaders in the hip- hop world who have attempted to right the genre’s macho wrongs, the recent attention to the issue — spurred by the opposing tactics of artists like Lil B and Tyler the Creator — is unprecedented.
It even has artists in the Colorado hip-hop community — from Mane Rok and Molina to Skull Bludgeon and Krookid Hooks — thinking differently about their music.
Young California-based rapper Tyler the Creator and his Odd Future crew have been both celebrated and criticized for their violently homophobic and misogynist lyrics. On his most recent album, the critically acclaimed “Goblin,” Tyler boldly asserts, “I’m not homophobic, faggot!”
And while that’s one of the album’s milder lines, critics and fans alike of Odd Future’s shock-inducing wordplay are quick to attack and defend his verbal jousts, leading to a media blitz that extends well beyond the hip-hop world.
On the other side of the coin — and gaining just as much notoriety — is Lil B, who announced at Coachella that his next album would be called “I’m Gay.” The prolific rapper from Bay Area hip-hop crew the Pack is prone to attention-grabbing stunts, and this appears to be one of them.
Nevertheless, his very public announcement sparked a whole new dialogue about language and sexuality in the world of hip-hop.
Though Colorado hip-hop is often noted for its positivity and higher consciousness, our diverse and growing scene also has its share of grittier street crews who draw more inspiration from N.W.A. and early Eminem than from Common and Dead Prez.
As it turns out, both sides have been thinking about homophobia and homophobic language in their lyrics.
“It was brought to my attention that I use the word ‘faggot’ a lot,” says Skull Bludgeon of one of Denver’s grimiest (and most criticized) rap crews, American Trash Republic.
The rapper, whose real name is Elijah Skinner, insists he’s “not attacking your sexuality,” just using the word to call people out for their behavior. His assertion that the most popular homophobic slur is just an all-purpose insult, devoid of its heterosexist connotations, is a common defense.
Krookid Hooks — rapper with the Cadava Recordz Afterlife Allstars crew, another gritty Denver outfit — echoes the sentiment.
“When you call someone a faggot, I don’t think you’re necessarily saying, ‘You’re gay, you like guys,’ ” he asserts. “You’re just questioning their manhood. It’s a hurtful word that doesn’t stand — like ‘dummy,’ ‘stupid,’ ‘idiot’ . . . ”
Battle MC
Krookid Hooks seems to come at the issue from the perspective of a battle MC, someone whose modus operandi is to tear down an opponent with the words he chooses.
“A battle of the bands doesn’t compare to a battle of MCs,” explains Denver conscious hip-hop artist Mane Rok, whose birth certificate reads Sam Baron. A battle MC’s purpose is to verbally tear the other person down.
While the jury’s still out as to whether homophobia is an issue in Colorado’s hip-hop community today, one thing that isn’t in question is the willingness of members of that community to confront the topic head-on. This willingness is, in itself, a sign of changing times, both in hip-hop and, as Mane Rok suggests, in society at large. And while rappers are still finding ways to talk about these issues in their rhymes, it’s clear that, with a few exceptions, they’re ready to talk and think about homosexuality differently.
“I don’t think your sexual preference has anything to do with your artistic nature, your personality, your motivation, your drive,” says Concept Oner. “Those are the things that people should be judged on.”
Mane Rok, whose positions rarely align with those of American Trash Republic, echoes Concept Oner. “Our sexuality has nothing to do with how we make music,” he contends. “We’re making music to relate to people across the board.”
Krookid Hooks, however, disagrees.
“I don’t want to come off like I hate homosexuals,” he says cautiously. “But I don’t see them being part of hip-hop. They just don’t mesh together.”
Perhaps because of remarks like that, Yonnas Abraham thinks Colorado hip-hop still has some evolving to do before heterosexism is completely removed.
“Because Denver is a bit behind the coastal cities, a lot of rappers will have a caveman perspective on homosexuality,” he says. “I don’t know what we’re holding onto or what we’re trying to protect by being homophobic, but it’s obvious that homophobia in hip-hop is crumbling.
“There’s no reason that the biggest rapper in the world 20 years from now — or now — can’t be gay.”
Eryc Eyl is a Colorado native who has been neck-deep in local music for years. Read his columns — the Mile High Makeout and Steal This Track — on The Denver Post music site Reverb: .
