Hip-Hop, Global Culture, and Doughnuts

Jazz and Champagne, Country music and apple-pie, but hip-hop and doughnuts?

Some things just pair together so meticulously well, it’s hard to think of one without the other. While our last example might not be the first to dribble off the tongue, it has gained quite a following at Chicago’s Doughnut Vault.

Hip-hop music, however, is rarely approached from a anthropological perspective, its implications left part of an overarching, unquestioned pop-culture. But we were lucky enough to speak with global hip-hop author, who is also an assistant professor of sociology at Queen’s College, and emcee, (not to mention doughnut fan) Sujatha Fernandes. Her latest book, Close to Edge: In Search of the Global Hip Hop Generation is an in-depth look into hip-hop cultures from Chicago to Cuba to Australia and beyond.

We chatted with Ms. Fernandes from New York about her personal connection to music, the implications of hip-hop on a generation of global youth, and what she thinks of doughnuts and hip-hop together.

What drew you to hip-hop initially?
SF: I grew up in Australia where popular culture is very white, from soap operas to musicians to movies. You didn’t see people of color on TV when I was growing up, until we started seeing black American culture, especially rap music. Myself being of Indian descent, I never felt I could identify with Australian culture. Then I saw “The Message” by Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five on a music show and I was captivated to see black people up there on the screen rhyming over a musical background. It blew me away.

How did you decide to start rapping?
SF: I was in my late teens and an Aboriginal friend and I were toying with the idea of going to some rap workshops. We went and there we met a lot of other aspiring emcees who became our community for writing and performing.  As I say in the book, my first rap was like a Masters thesis, because I had to learn how to communicate in this genre.

Who are some of your favorite rappers and why?
SF: My favorite American rappers are KRS-One, A Tribe Called Quest, Public Enemy, Common, Queen Latifah, and Salt-N-Pepa, who I started listening to as a teenager. They write inspiring, uplifting music that also has soul, something that you don’t see in a lot of rap music nowadays. My favorite global rappers are Obsesion (Cuban), Hermanos de Causa (Cuban), and Guerrilla Seca (Venezuelan), for their lyricism and their innovative ideas.

Why is hip-hop a form of expression that transcends culture? Is it more global than most music?
SF: This is a good question and one I sought to answer in my book Close to the Edge. I think in the end, it goes beyond the words of rap to encompass the whole culture – the gestures, the clothing, the attitude, the anger that appealed to a generation of people feeling frustrated and without outlets for their frustration. Hip hop gave young people an outline that they could color with their own words and experiences. It is more global than other forms, even jazz and rock n’ roll, because of the existence of the global entertainment industry, that has marketed the genre far more effectively than any other genre was previously marketed.

You have 2 young children. What do you hope that they take away from hip-hop?
SF: They are already listening to hip hop. My 5 month-old son sits on my lap as I watch hip hop music videos from around the world and he’s already taking it all in! I took my daughter when she was one year old to Cuba where she met all my Cuban rapper friends. But I don’t know if hip hop will be the music of their generation. Each generation has to find their own music and their own voice, and it remains to be seen what it will be for them.

I know there’s loads of grass roots hip-hop out there, but I wanted to address some of the more mainstream work that is pretty misogynistic — why is that a part of hip-hop music?
SF: I think it’s part of hip hop because it’s still part of our culture. Mainstream America itself is misogynistic if you look at representations of women in popular culture – just turn on the TV and switch on any reality TV show and you’ll see what I mean. And also because the music industry has realized that they can make money from promoting the worst of the misogynistic music. Ironically, it’s white kids in the suburbs who are buying and consuming most of this music, so go figure!

How do women carve out a space for themselves when there are lyrics like those of Odd Future out there?
SF: It’s very difficult, and many women have moved on from the genre after finding themselves with very little space for self-expression. But I’ve come across a lot of women from Ang 13 in Chicago to Magia of Obsesion in Cuba who have carved out their own spaces, which is not to adopt the posture of male rappers but to do something their own, with their own voice, stories, and aesthetic.

In common vernacular rap and hip-hop today there seems to be a very self-aggrandizing, pro-capitalist set of values. For example, there are rappers singing about Kristal, a several-hundred-dollar bottle of Champagne that is anything but humble, approachable or unifying. What does this type of indulgence indicate? Is hip-hop a victim of this ideology or is it a celebration of success?
SF: I think that as hip hop has become more mainstream, it has become an important medium for promoting consumer products and commodities. But rap doesn’t just advertise products. The content of rap songs is so heavily brand identified – from cars, to clothing, and alcohol – that the music becomes fused with the product. As an example, hip hop raised the sales of Hennessy cognac by so much that the company sponsored a contest, where the prize was a visit to its plant with a famous rapper. But at the same time, I have talked to gangsta rappers in Caracas, with this same time of music, and they say that they it’s not that they want all these consumer products. They say that they grew up with nothing, and so having consumer items is a way of showing that they are now somebody, that they have skills and the means to bring themselves out of poverty. So I would say in answer to your question that it is a bit of both.

Can you tell us a little bit about your newest book?
SF: My latest book looks at my experiences over eleven years with hip hop movements in four different cities – Havana, Sydney, Chicago, and Caracas. I happened to be in each place when the music was undergoing a crucial evolution. The book looks at how the music helped young people articulate a voice in their society, whether gangsta rappers in Venezuela talking about violence, activist rappers in Sydney protesting the rise of white supremacists, Cuban rappers talking about racism and survival in the contemporary post-Soviet period of crisis, and Chicago rappers protesting the takeover of the airwaves by commercial rap.

And final, less serious question— at the Doughnut Vault, we’ve always got hip-hop on the ipod doc; everyone seems to enjoy it. Any sociological explanation you can offer about hip-hop in the morning or hip-hop with a doughnut?
SF: Well, there’s no better way to start the morning than with a nice beat, a good vibe, and some food for thought as well as food for the stomach. I come from Australia where we take our doughnuts very seriously, so hip hop and doughnuts are really a marriage of two of my favorite things.

Sujatha Fernandes’ new book, Close to the Edge: In Search of the Global Hip Hop Generation can be found on Amazon.

For more on Sujatha Fernandes visit: www.sujathafernandes.com

Photo Credits: Obsession— Oriana Eliçabe http://vocesrebeldes.orianomada.net/ and Guerrilla Seca— Sara Maneiro