Open letter to Hip-hop "artists"

Given that the word artists is in quotes, you may guess where I'm heading. Standard disclaimers apply : I'm not an artist (yes, I don't have a platinum record but I still have an opinon), I'm not a music elitist (can anyone be called that?), musical opinion is subjective (and these are my opinions - deal with 'em).

Dear Mega gajillionaire rapper,

A emotionally-high-on-life (bleh) Julie Andrews once sang about a few of her favorite things. I'd like to list a few of my not-too favorite things, just to clear all this bad air we have between us. Here we go...

1) I know you have so much money you're tempted to throw it off yatchs, from the moon-roof of hummer limos, off the 10th floor of your "crib", in da clubs and what not, do you mind changing the subject once in, say, 5 albums? I understand the first 30 tracks had to about your "struggles" to get to the point of releasing 30 singles about your struggles, then the next 45 about the struggles to make people understand how you don't give a crap about people who don't understand your struggles, can we now have 1, just 1 single about uh, I don't know, unicorns and rainbows?

2) Speaking of struggles, when you claim you're from the "ghetto", is it of any significance that you haven't been there for the last 10 years what with your 2000 carat bling and all?

3)While on the subject of angst, I have a special one for Mr. Marshall Mathers. I'm told you suffered many abuses at the hands of your biological female parenting unit, but does the sale of a million or so records mitigate the "pain"? Will the real slim shady please shut the fuck up?

4) Now I know you love your "hos", your "mamas", your "honies" and your "biznitches". Would you like to hear those songs again when you're pitching for a reality show about you, your beautiful wife and your 3 crazy kids?

5) I'm sure you're proud of your African heritage, but is using the racial epithet given to the said ancestors the best way to celebrate your identity? How about a song about Rosa Parks then? She's a lady (qualifies for #4) and uh, your race (qualifies for #5). I'm sure this is what MLK Jr. envisioned when he campaigned for equality, civil rights and decent treatment for your people. Congrats, you da P.I.M.P.

6) Will you please stop saying "shorty", "shawty" and the like in your lyrics(?!)? Most of you are shorter than my 12 year old niece and its just plain embarrassing watching you trying to look cool with a gaggle of high heeled "honies".

7) This is just a pet peeve. Since when was rotten english cool?


To the listners,

1) It must have been super orgasmic downloading those "hawt" tracks from teh intrawebs, but do you mind not cranking up your stupid crappy steroes? Songs about Escalades with 22 inch rims sound hillarious in your broken down beat up banged up worn out Honda Civic.

2) Stop talking like that, stop making gang signs. Please. Stop calling each other Gs. You're not, Gs. You are 19, and you live in your parents' basement.

3) The ladies - you're being accused(?) of professions your dad worked hard to keep you out of (see #3 of earlier sub section). So stop shakin' yo booty/doin yo thang to the guy calling out to yo(ur) mama. And no, he's not talking about someone else. If you dance when that song is played, you're not just the target demographic, you're also the subject of his songs.

4) To the ladies, again, if you grind a random guy in the club "just fo fun" while screaming "whoo" and getting wasted on cheap tequila, you're not acting, but actually being slutty. Don't give me the finger when I retch in your company.

5) White people - stop acting black. Stop.

I do have a choice of not listening to your (yo) music, and I do exercise that glorious option - while driving, when at home. But I can't escape this drivel in some of the places I'm forced into. I'd like to stay in a club for more than 3 minutes to see what the fuss is all about, and you guys just won't let me be. I know we have our differences, but if we work together, we can lay the foundation for improving our relations. Hopefully in the next few years or so, I'll be able to listen to half a hip-hop song without feeling an uncontrollable urge to throw up. A man can dream.


Many thanks,
Me.