There's a great episode of The Mike Douglas Show from 1974 with Sly Stone. And as if Sly wasn't enough to make it a classic, Muhammad Ali is also a guest. To stir the pot, Douglas adds Rep. Wayne L. Hays, a White democratic from Ohio, and right off the bat Ali starts stick- ing it to him. Hays just can't understand why Ali's so angry. Sly plays it cool and actually tries to mediate when things get heated, but Ali's not having it. Sly's trying to interrupt Ali at one point, and Ali starts giving him the brush off. Sly's no punk, though, and tells Ali to get his hand out of his face. I begin realizing that television today is nothing like it was thirty years ago. Even in a world of "reality"- driven drivel, everything is so scripted that we're robbed of genuine moments like this. But just as I'm thinking that it couldn't get any better, Ali looks at him and says, "Let's not be niggers and fools in front of White people." Did he really just say that? Several hundred viewings later, it still holds up as was one of the illest things I've ever seen on TV.
I've been thinking about that quote a lot recently. It's as if Ali's greatest fears have come to life, because if you look at TV, you'll see a whole lot of Us being niggers and fools in front of White people. But who the hell cares what White people think, anyway? Cosby was right, we don't need to be worried what they think as much as what we think. But we're not thinking. So just days after T.I.'s van got shot up, and only hours after one of our writers finished an interview with him, I sit writing this in a time of crisis. So in this first ever all-hip-hop issue, WAX POETICS looks back to a time when a group like Public Enemy and the Bomb Squad was running shit, and wonder what the hell happened? We're eating a little better, but are we really making any progress? I think it's time for some revolutionary music.
I remember the first time I heard It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back and realized that my life would never be the same. That album was pure inspiration. For a dude living in a bass-obsessed Florida drenched in Luke Skyywalker, it was refreshing to hear some cats from NY dropping knowledge. But that was the thing about '87, PE could co-exist along side Luke and it was all good. I guess it wouldn't have taken Nostradamus to figure out that almost twenty years later, it would be Luke's influence being felt strongest across this all too depressing hip-hop landscape. But don't get me wrong, I fucks wit Uncle Luke, so that's not really the issue. The biggest problem today is that there's no balance in the music being shoved at us. If Luke's presence is still felt, where's PE's? Is it in Kanye's remark that, "Bush don't like Black people?" And if that's the case, you mean to tell me with all these thugs out here, Kanye's the only dude with balls enough to say some challenging shit like that? Where are the next Chuck D, X-Clan (RIP Profes- sor X), and KRS? Truth be told, I'm embarrassed by most of this shit being passed off as hip-hop right now. I like to party more than the next man, but, damn, some of this garbage these niggas are spitting got me cringing.
And just when I'm thinking we've hit a brick wall, Jay Dee offers his swan song, Donuts, and I realize all hope's not lost. This album is inspirational, inspired. When you think that the dude was in a hospital bed making a lot of these beats, you realize it was something that he didn't have a choice in. He had to do it, because it was who he was. Not what he wanted to be, or thought it would be cool to do because he could stack some paper. He did it because it made him feel good. How many of these cats out here now can say that? And then the more I think about it, I begin to realize that maybe this is revolutionary music. In today's rap climate, where all dudes know is "monkey see monkey do," it's rare to find someone just doing their own thing. For Dilla, it was about the subtlety of it all; he didn't need to bang you over the head. So one of the many things cats can learn from his passing is that being a legend doesn't have shit to do with going platinum or having your own clothing company. Legendary status comes from respect, and that's something you can't fake.
Somewhere in all of the bullshit, I realize this may be our way out of this mess. If we can't bang 'em over the head with revolutionary music anymore, and we don't want to be niggers and fools, then maybe it's somehow about being subtle. Because all the sex, drugs, and murder raps ain't all that shocking anymore. What is shocking is when someone can make a good record and not have to go that route. These cats that were "hot" a minute ago ain't staying all that hot for long anymore. Andy Warhol wasn't lying, but those fif- teen minutes are getting shorter by the day. It's about being subtle and staying true to your vision. Showing young kids that we don't have to be niggers and fools, now that's revolutionary. Because with the birth of my second son, Nigel, who's only three weeks old now (Love you, Angie), I need to be sure that he's inspired too.
