Fall 2002 Volume XXXII, No. 1

Alan Lomax: Citizen Activist by Ron Cohen Afro-Asian Crosscurrents in Contemporary Hip Hop by Ellie M. Hisama Musical Topics in Hale Smith's Evocation by Horace J. Maxile, Jr. Eileen Jackson Southern: A Tribute and a Mandate by Guthrie P. Ramsey, Jr. ISAM Matters Reviews Country and Gospel Notes by Charles Wolfe Gendering Jazz Narratives by Susan C. Cook Rorem on Everything by Eleonora M. Beck ISAM Home

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. The black Brooklyn-based duo dead prez weaves elements of Asian martial arts, philosophy, and war strategy into their music and image.4 Like Public Enemy, dead prez are activist rappers. M1 (Mutulu Olugbala, formerly Lavon Alfred) is originally from Jamaica and grew up in Brooklyn, and Stic.man, or Stic. (Knm Olugbala, formerly Clayton Gavin) hails from Florida. They met at Florida A. & M., where M1 was a student. After M1 joined the National People’s Democratic Uhuru movement in Chicago, he and Stic. formed dead prez.5 The name of the group can be understood as slang for paper money as well as a call for the end of a presidential system of government. 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 identifies 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 All the shit we go through every day Sometime a nigga don’t know what the fuck to do But see I got my niggaz And we gonna organize a people army And we gonna get control over our own lives And I mean that shit right there from the bottom of my shit I Ching I Ching I Ching 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 Poverty and extreme unemployment April 29th … [Jamez] Many others in a moment’s time Sacrifice illuminate light Many others forgot they own name But I’m about ta use it Many others in a moment’s time Sacrifice illuminate Many others forgot they own name Healing on the 7-train 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 Somos una nación de inmigrantes ’Cause we all came from the same stock We all Negroes We all black 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.