For years I was confused about the difference between “rap” and “hip hop”.

What are the fundamental anomalies? Is there a clear line between the two? Who is Funkmaster Flex?

I suppose I could have investigated the issue, perhaps asked around. Instead, I just made up my own mind and defined the rule as it stands to me. Because really, musical taste is a tricky bitch. We all like different things; a lot of people probably hate your favorite band and the sooner you understand that the better off you’ll be. So why now make up your facts?

This is my hypothesis: Rap is money/hoes/guns. Hip hop is about the beats and the musicianship. It’s soulful and poetic.

Hip hop is also about guidance, leadership and life lessons.

We can’t talk about hip hop without first discussing the race issue. Yes, a lot of rap and hip hop fans are young white kids who emulate MCs in what they wear and how they talk. This is a fact that cannot be ignored.

I’d like to apologize on behalf of all white people. Apparently today’s youth don’t understand that you can enjoy a particular sport, film or musical act without completely imitating it and basing your entire personality on that of an image. (This practice is not exclusive to the hip hop genre; go to any small town in BC and notice the amount of long hair and Megadeth t-shirts on those born after 1987.)

Now that we’ve solved the race problem, I’d like to explain how hip hop has impacted my life by outlining my years of experience with the music.

Strap on your Adidas!

1985- 2001

I did not listen to hip hop during those years.

2001-2004

In eleventh grade, one of my friends gave me the Beastie Boys’ “Hello Nasty” on a CD-R. I enjoy the whimsy, their sense of good-time having, and that there were three of them. A good, even number if you ask me. In their music videos, the Beastie Boys often wore red, yellow and blue jumpsuits and pranced about the streets of New York. I guess you could say they taught me how to enjoy life, and that if you got the jammy you don’t need the permit.

I first heard Public Enemy when I watched Spike Lee’s film “Do The Right Thing“. Chuck D’s raspy growl was complimented by the greatest hype-man of all time, and viking helmet wearing sexpot Flavor Flav, and together, they were just amazing. They inspired me to read newspapers and care about issues. I bought a large stereo and carried it around on my shoulder… that is, until the batteries died. An eight back of D batteries will set you back about fifteen bucks, and it’s just harmful to the environment because I’m not going to properly dispose of them. I’m going to bury the batteries in my backyard like any normal person.

I listened almost exclusively to these acts back to back. Public Enemy got me angry, Beasties calmed me down. Like a nice piece of key-lime pie after a meal of spicy chili. A perfect combination.

2004

Eminem released his album “Encore” on the heels of two hit singles, “Just Lose It” and “Mosh”. The latter was a biting indictment of the Bush administration, the war in Iraq, and the lower class suffering in America. Obviously it had no impact on the election and Bush was elected to a second term. Way to go, Marshall!

Two weeks before I was to head to Vancouver and my new life as a broke writer, I discovered Rage Against the Machine. Holy fucking shit. Rapping AND guitars? I nearly made in my shorts when I first heard “Killing in the Name”.

Don’t believe me?

Still don’t?

Go to hell!

2005

Attended Vancouver Film School. Incurred crippling student loan debt. Met Bob Woolsey, became a borderline alcoholic.

2006

I’m not going to lie- 2006 for me was all about punk rock. I barely listened to rap music in 2006. It was seminal acts like Ramones, Iggy, and The Clash, with new stuff like Against Me! and NOFX taking up space on my iPod. I apologize.

2007

I was in and out of rehab until Christmas.

2008

This year has really broadened my hip hoponomical taste. I’ve been introduced to such amazing acts as Mos Def, Talib Kweli, Eric B and Rakim, Jay Z, Ludacris, Nas and of course, Immortal Technique.

Immortal Technique is, from what I can gather, a Peruvian fellow who hates the government. He has the face of a sex offender (like a really violent one who tattoos “captures” on his forearm) and frequently raps in Spanish, which is nice because I enjoy the Pixies and learning. He tells stories about the drug trade that are honest and have morals. He taught me not to do cocaine, nor to believe anything Jeff Goldblum says.

The Future?

As is the trend with many of my blogs, I set out on a journey to teach YOU something, when I myself end up teaching ME something.

And what have I learned, you ask? Well, I have realized that hip hop music has not really taught me anything. I still have the same bad habits and imperfections as I did before I listened to hip hop… which was seven years ago.

Oh my, that’s sad.

Jesus.

What is wrong with me.

Perhaps you’ve seen one the many Apple product addresses, where in Mr. Jobs will pull a new iPod out of his ever-decreasing-in-size pockets and a thousand people will orgasm in unison.

At the most recent Apple suck-fest, yes, new iPods were unveiled and yes they are sexy as hell and yes I would trade a testicle for one, but something else was introduced of particular interest to me: iTunes Genius.

More or less a playlist generator, Genius scans your library of music and based on dozens of factors (rhythm, beat, length, genre, level of involvement of Rick Rubin) it populates a list of songs “similar” to the one you selected. It’s great for making quick playlists if you’re in the mood for a particular type of music, or looking for new artists (with links to the iTunes store handy).

But enough suckin’ at the proverbial dink. We’ve got bigger problems.

I love music.

I love music like a deaf person loves handing out little pieces of paper that explain basic sign language, except music doesn’t snatch the paper back when they see that I don’t have any coins. (What the hell, man? I thought this was a gift!)  Genius seemed perfect for me, a lazy music enthusiast. But there’s a problem: in order to function, all of the information based in your iTunes folder is sent to Apple for processing. It is… processed… and then sent back with Genius raring to go. Hmm, not to sure I like this information exchange.

Genius is getting too smart. Too powerful. It knows me, and how I think.

It must be destroyed.

Confrontación Inicial

Humans are imperfect. No man is without fault hence no machine he creates can be either.

The Death Star was blown up with a single beam of light. Surely I can trick Genius and prove it inferior to me.

So now- visually- I will take you along on my mission to destroy iTunes Genius.

Hold on to your sack.

Victor Desagradable

A surefire bet, at least I thought, was to take a b-side from an indie artist. Yes, Jeff Buckley will be for sale in the iTunes store (buy two albums get free water-wings?) but this isn’t a single, or even a song he’s that known for. Let’s see Genius do something that matches the sultry tone and sweet whisperings of one of music’s greatest.

Motherfucker! What a good playlist. Another thematic wave, a few bursts of rock and roll and some singles.

Damn it. Foiled!

Tiempo para Atacar

Perhaps I needed some perspective: is there a new way to look at the message, as opposed to the medium? I went to the thesaurus. “Defeat” suggested I look up the word “puzzling”, which led to me the lynch-pin, the word that opened the gate to the path that leads to the house. And within that house? Victory.

A synonym for puzzling is queer. Queer? Why, I now know how to thwart Genius.

Elton John!

While Elton proved to have the strangest mix of songs, it is still, at least, vaguely appropriate.

Apple Computers 1
Andrew Computers 0

I think I am going about this all wrong. Genius isn’t something I should fear/want to bring down. Perhaps embracing the beast is the best tactic. Not figuratively, of course; I’m not going to print these screen captions and paste them to a pillow just so I can physically embrace Genius.

No. I will literally embrace Genius.

Okay, so what have we learned here today?

1. The irrational fear of technology is futile and advancement should be embraced like a warm blanket or cold Popsicle.

2. Elton John, while talented, only somewhat disrupts a digital media organzing program.

3. Mos Def would have been a better vice presidential candidate than Joe Biden.

I thank you for your time.

On vineyard land there’s a practice of shooting air cannons to scare away birds and other predators that might eat the wine berries.  It appears Pigeon Technology has been adapted to the detriment of the homeless person yet again.

The bank nearby my place of business has a warm, spacious foyer in which many a hobo has taken the odd slumber. While the general bank is closed, it’s not uncommon to find, two, three, four, five or six hobos napping.  Not once have any of them hassled me for money while I used the ATM, which is unfortunate, because I enjoying lying.

There have been no hobo sleepovers in my bank for the past month. Why? Because a constant, eardrum-crapping beep rings out during the bank’s off-hours.

This is similar to another practice of audio mind-fucking, one in which prevents teenagers from loitering.  As much as today’s youth sets off a flurry of rage in my gut, I don’t think ultrasonic pulses are the best way to deal with kids hanging around Wal Mart on a Saturday.  (An angry, broom-waving Portuguese woman will always get my vote.)

I wish to state for the record that I fully endorse resourceful homelessness. Often times when I am walking the streets, I note areas of which would make ample spaces for sleeping, eating, or defecating, in case one day I am sans home.  When I see a hobo sleeping I assess his quarters on a sliding scale of one to ten.  If I have a pen and paper on hand, I will write down the hobo’s score and leave it in his tip jar.

This should frighten us.  This complete lack of regard for decency should smack us in the face and question what kind of people we’ve become. We can’t have a man- a man with no home, food, toilet- to sleep under cover in a public place while no one is even fucking there?  It sparks my gonads aflame with rage.

I suggest we arm the homeless.

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