Newsletter
Fall
2002 Volume XXXII, No.
1
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Reviews
Country and Gospel Notes |
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Afro-Asian Crosscurrents in Contemporary
Hip Hop
by Ellie M. Hisama
April 29th of this year
marks the tenth anniversary of the day on which four white Los Angeles police
officers were acquitted of using excessive force against black motorist
Rodney King. The verdict set off an interethnic rebellion that rocked the
city. Among the thousands of buildings that were destroyed or vandalized were
over 1,800 Korean-owned stores, with an estimated $300 million in property
damage; many of the attacks on Asian American-owned properties
were carried out by young African Americans.1
The targeting of Korean-owned businesses was partly rooted in African Americans’
anger over the previous year’s sentence of a Korean grocer, Soon Ja Du, who
fatally shot a black high school student, Latasha Harlins, but received no
jail time. Because the media painted the relationship between blacks and
Asian Americans as one of stark opposition and conflict, for many people, the
soundtrack for the uprising in Los Angeles might be Ice Cube’s “Black Korea”
(1991): “So pay respect to the black fist/Or we’ll burn your store/Right down
to a crisp/And then we’ll see ya/Cause you can’t turn the ghetto/Into Black
Korea.” Interactions between African Americans and
Asian Americans are, however, multi-faceted, and involve much more than acts
of bias, distrust, and violence. Vijay Prashad investigates the political and
cultural connections between Blacks and Asians over five centuries,
uncovering a history of anti-racist struggle fueled by
activists such as Malcolm X and Yuri Kochiyama.2
Robin D. G. Kelley has coined the term “polycultural”—derived from the term
“polyrhythmic”—to describe products of different living cultures. In contrast
to multiculturalism, which “implies that cultures are fixed,
discrete entities that exist side by side—a kind of zoological approach to
culture,” 3 polyculturalism acknowledges
the simultaneous existence of different cultural lineages in a single person.
It recognizes the past and present solidarity between people of color. Hip hop provides brilliant opportunities
for musical crosscurrents and affinities between ethnic communities of color.
American hip hop since 1990 offers compelling examples of interaction and
exchange between African and Asian diasporic communities, and demonstrates
the overwhelming political and aesthetic power of the polycultural.
Both M1 and Stic. are members of the
African People’s Socialist Party and disciples of Chairman Omali Yeshitela,
who leads the Uhuru Movement, a grass-roots Afrocentric political
organization; their CD lets get free (Loud 1867-2, 2000) employs
samples from Yeshitela’s speeches. M1 is also active in the National People’s
Democratic Uhuru Movement, organizing clothing drives,
community dinners, mass rallies, and political education classes in the
community.6 Many of dead prez’s songs are
critical of the state, the police, and politicians. “We’re trying to build a
movement besides music, as opposed to just a gimmick of Blackness on
records,” Stic. remarks. “[W]e’re talking about building a revolution, we’re
not just talking about black awareness, or positivity, or changing the school
curriculum. We’re talking about building black power for black
people, through our daily work, and ultimately through revolution.”7 dead prez’s influences include musicians (Public
Enemy, NWA, Bob Marley, Marvin Gaye), political figures (Malcolm X, the Black
Panthers, Huey P. Newton, Mohammed Ali), and the martial artist and actor
Bruce Lee. As Prashad argues, karate has taken root
in many African American communities because it is accessible by working
class youth—one doesn’t need expensive equipment, “just a small space, bare
feet, and empty hands,” a point that dead prez also makes in their song
“Psychology” (from lets get free): “They say karate means empty
hands/So then it’s perfect for the poor man.” Prashad further notes that kung
fu “gives oppressed young people an immense sense of personal worth and the
skills for collective struggle.” (132) dead prez’s song “Assassination” refers to
their practice of kung fu. They train in Jeet Kune Do (“The Way of the
Intercepting Fist”), the classical wing chung style of kung fu practiced by
Bruce Lee, and in Ile-Ijala, an African system of martial arts. Lee’s
influence on dead prez is evident on their website, which contains a quote from Lee’s Tao of Jeet Kune Do: “Truth is living,
and, therefore, changing.”8 dead prez
notes: “We’re about stopping the police from brutalising us every day. We’re
about tearing down the prison walls that hold us hostage and captive, and
building programs that enable us to do that...[W]e’re about training in
Martial Arts, so that we have some self defence. We’re about all our rights, our rights to bear arms, our right to pursue happiness,
and our right to be free.”9 Another critical connection dead prez
makes to Asian culture is through the I Ching (the Book of
Changes), the three-thousand-year-old manual of divination.10 The sixty-four hexagrams of the I Ching signify
universal principles upon which people can model their lives and conduct.
Each hexagram comprises six lines, either broken or solid, which indicate the
yin and the yang; each hexagram represents various states such as progress,
weakness, and good fortune. The I Ching has been read by
political leaders such as Mao Tse-Tung as a metaphorical guide to governing a
country.11 As Thomas Cleary argues,
“[T]he I Ching… has an incalculable abstract reserve and metaphorical
potential…. The political basis of military strength, or the
social basis of the strength of any organization, is a teaching that is…
rooted in the I Ching.”12 Sony’s website
for dead prez idenifies the I Ching as “a system… used by the wise men and
women of China some three thousand years ago as a means of analyzing reality
and perfecting the art of foresight. That process of change is symbolized in
[dead prez’s] music and they believe there is a common link
between all historically oppressed people.”13
The cover of lets get free and M1’s
tank top in the illustration reproduces their logo, which is the seventh
hexagram of the I Ching. This particular hexagram, sze, denotes “the conduct
of military expeditions in a feudal kingdom…. the combination
of lines in it is made out to suggest the idea of an army….”14 dead prez’s commitment to I Ching in their
vision of political revolution is also evident in their song “We Want
Freedom.” Over a lilting flute, guitar, and harp arpeggio, Stic. raps: Yeah, our lives fucked up, no doubt dead prez interprets the I Ching symbol as
the “people’s army” that will bring about “Black revolution in the real
world, not just on record. Basically we want to see our people have power
over their own lives, self determination, and we think that’s
a right every human being on the planet should have.”15 For dead prez, the I Ching and martial arts are
integral parts of a progressive politics. Afro-Asian hip hop not only encompasses
African American artists who are influenced by Asian culture and politics,
but also embraces the reverse situation. A rapper and poet who wants to
impact society with his music is the second-generation Korean American rapper
and poet Jamez (James Chang). Born in the Bronx in 1972, Jamez grew up in a
suburb of Los Angeles and graduated from Bard College with degrees in
sociology and multiethnic studies. “Sometimes you feel stigmatized growing up
as a minority,” he remarks. He recalls that as an adolescent, he
connected with other Asians, but “sometimes… I felt discriminated from whites
or other groups.”16 When he was fifteen,
he wrote his first song, “Black Man Singing in a White Man’s World.” [I]t was a metaphor for the alienation
that I, as a young Asian kid, felt but could never elegantly express—until
that moment. Since Bruce Lee was dead and Margaret Cho wasn’t big back then,
I found my role models in the Black community. Chuck D [of Public Enemy], Run
[of Run DMC], Malcolm X, and Alex Haley guided me through adolescence and later inspired me to delve into my own roots, my own musical
heritage….17. Those were my role models
since there weren’t any Asian American performers out there I
could readily identify with. I identified with their feelings of alienation.18 Like many other children of immigrants,
Jamez at first rejected the traditional culture of his parents, but after a
visit to Korea, he became interested in traditional Asian music: “Fusing
Korean folk music with Chinese music and hip hop provided the
ideal social landscape I wanted to create.”19
At Bard, he learned about the exploitation of Filipino and Chinese laborers
in the U.S., the internment of Japanese Americans, and other cases of
anti-Asian discrimination. During a visit to Bard, Fred Ho, the Chinese
American saxophonist, composer, and activist, convinced him to combine his interests
in Asian American political issues with music. Jamez calls his blend of traditional Asian
folk music with contemporary hip hop a new genre, “Aziatic hip hop.” A
self-described “street musicologist,” James wants to teach young Korean
Americans to reclaim their cultural traditions and identity through music. He
hopes that his music will “inspirate the fate” of Asian Americans—that is,
inspire and motivate them to develop “cultural literacy”: “Once you can
convince someone that they should be proud of their own music, then you can elevate the level of discussion to economics and politics and
the military and sexism.” 20 Noting that
his “best response has been from the Black community,” he wants many people
to “‘establish the sign,’ meaning have a deep appreciation for cultures that
are not yours….once that appreciation is there… I think that
there would be parity, there would be equal footing.”21 The title of Jamez’s debut CD, Z-Bonics
(F.O.B. Productions, 1998), is a play on the African American vernacular mode
of speech, Ebonics. The “Z” in Z-Bonics is a reference to “Zipperhead,” the
racist term coined by American soldiers during the Korean War to refer to the
supposed appearance of an Asian person’s head after it is shot with a high
powered rifle or run over by a Jeep. The “F.O.B.” in Jamez’s label, F.O.B. Productions, stands for “Fresh Off the Boat,” a derogatory name
for new immigrants that he wants to reclaim.22
“7-Train” is part of the
score for the 1999 documentary film of the same name.23 The ridership of the number 7 is multiethnic and
multiracial. It joins the borough of Queens to Times Square/42nd Street in
midtown Manhattan, connecting Koreans and Chinese in Flushing (“New York’s
real K-town [Koreatown]”, according to Jamez); Indians, Pakistanis, and
Bengalis in Jackson Heights; and Bukharan Jews in Rego Park. [Vocal samples] We are just looking for a
place to survive The film chronicles the events in a
typical workday for a Korean manager of a fish store, a gay Pakistani sari
salesman, and two Otavalen Indian street vendors. Jamez notes that “[the
7-train] represents my Flushing experience… [my neighborhood is] unbelievably
wonderful. You got Haitians, Jamaicans, Chinese, Koreans. We’re just a
melting fusion of voices, but there definitely is a feeling of unity,
especially when I’m on the seven-train…. [The song is] an ode to all those hardworking people in Queens who happen to ride on that train,
especially the immigrants. The train is like a microcosm of Queens.”24 The song draws upon traditional Korean music called p’ansori, which is the singing of a long narrative
with drum accompaniment. Jamez calls p’ansori “rap for Koreans. It
tells a story, introduces characters and settings, and satirizes the ruling
class.”25 His use of traditional Asian
music creates what he calls a form of “anti-appropriation,” or a way of
reclaiming music that has been used in Western-produced kung fu films. Jamez raps in a seamless, lyrical style
that nimbly accommodates the 12/8 meter of the sampled p’ansori.
Rather than trying to imitate the sound of KRS-One or Chuck D of Public
Enemy, Jamez sounds Asian American. The song suggests that “Many forgot they
own name” after the numbing commute concluding an eighteen-hour day, but are
rejuvenated by the sight of a baby with her mother riding the train. The
haunting, repetitive use of the refrain evokes the repeated rhythms of the
train ride. The presence of the following vocal samples midway through the
song, by Asian American, Latino, and African American speakers, reinforces
the song’s bringing together of disparate sonic and social worlds into a
polycultural whole: We’re in search of something better If we are all black, then our definition
of blackness must be expanded to encompass polycultural musicians such as
Jamez and dead prez. To be black, then, is to belong to a political, social,
and cultural category rather than a biological one. What sets in motion the
dynamic polycultural complexity of these musicians is their dreams of
liberation, shared by those who are not just looking for a place to survive,
but who are in search of something better. —Brooklyn College Notes
Click on note number to return to its place in the text. 1 Manning Marable, Beyond Black and White:
Transforming African-American Politics (Verso, 1995), 180. 2 Vijay Prashad, Everybody Was Kung Fu Fighting:
Afro-Asian Connections and the Myth of Cultural Purity (Beacon Press,
2001). 3 Robin D. G. Kelley, “The People in Me,” ColorLines
1/3 (Winter 1999); rpt. in Utne Reader (September-October 1999), 81. 4 A fascination with east Asian culture that veers
toward Orientalism is evident in the work of hip hop artists such as the
Wu-Tang Clan, Jeru the Damaga, and Afu-Ra. 5 Alexandra Phanor, “Dead Prez: Straight Revolution,
No Chaser,” www.loud.com/home/dead_prez_story_01.html. 6 Furqan, “Dead Prez and Their Thoughts on
Revolution,” www.nocziemi.most.org.pl/inenglish/deadprez.htm. 7 Semtex, Interview with dead prez, New York City,
20 October 1999, www.djsemtex.net/interviews/deadprez.htm. 8 Bruce Lee, Tao of Jeet Kun Do (Ohara
Publications, 1975), 18; www.sonymusic.com/labels/loud/deadprez. 9 Semtex, Interview with dead prez. 10 The I Ching is perhaps best known by musicians for
its influence on the compositions of John Cage, who received a copy from
Christian Wolff in 1951. Cage composed Music of Changes and Imaginary
Landscape No. 4 for 12 radios based on I Ching-determined chance operations.
11 Michael L. Clemons and Charles E. Jones believe
that the most influential revolutionary thinker impacting Black Panther
doctrine was Mao Tse-Tung. See their “Global Solidarity: The Black Panther
Party in the International Arena,” in Liberation, Imagination, and the
Black Panther Party, ed. Kathleen Cleaver and George Katsiaficas
(Routledge, 2001), 30. 12 Thomas Cleary, Translator’s Introduction to Sun
Tzu, The Art of War (Shambala, 1988), 4, 8. 13 Biography of dead prez, www.sonymusic.com/labels/loud/deadprez/right_bio.html. 14 The I Ching: The Book of Changes, 2nd ed.,
trans. James Legge (Dover, 1963), 72. 15 Semtex, Interview with dead prez. 16 Merle English, “Artist Finds Voice in Hip-Hop
Hybrid,” Newsday (18 January 1998), G03. 17 Jamez Chang, “Response,” in Yellow Light: The
Flowering of Asian American Arts, ed. Amy Ling (Temple University Press,
1999), 356. Other important musical influences on Jamez are KRS-One, Leonard
Cohen, and Bob Dylan. Interview with Jamez by the author, New York City, 12
November 2002. 18 English, “Artist Finds Voice,” G03. 19 Ibid. 20 Abigail Baker, “Poongmul, Hip-Hop, and Politics:
Interview with Jamez Chang,” Yisei (Winter 1996), 21 Ibid. 22 Linda Sheridan, “East Meets West for a Brand-New
Groove,” The Daily News (10 January 1998). 23 The #7 Train, dir. Hye-Jung Park and J. T.
Takagi (Third World Newsreel, 1999). 24 English, “Artist Finds Voice,” G03. 25 Chang, “Response,” 356. |
