the entire Source issue about Eminem.
And NO I didnt personally type it all up. ENJOY!
New Eminem Article in the Source + Makes Cover
the extinction agenda
There's something in the way of things. At the end of The Roots' Phrenology, poet Amiri Baraka warned of an in?uential force that no one would name. Hip-Hop is being driven by something but isn't driven by anything. No, it's not just Eminem. That would be giving him too much credit. But he is a symptom of it. A symptom of
our reluctance to take control of what we created instead of being idle participants. That "something" in the way is a jarring emptiness and lack of focus. Turbulence. But in the pages that follow, The Source takes the controls and allows our artists, politicians and readers to finally confront the forces of racism, sexism and denial that are slowly killing our culture.
The real Slim Shady
The Source uncovers the startling truth about
Marshall Mathers and the racist comments
that have Hip-Hop patiently waiting for answers
Words by Kim Osorio
Let's do the math. If Eminem were Black, he would have sold half-or a lot less than half. His story, that of a skilled lyricist born and raised in Detroit, fully immersed in Hip-Hop culture and struggling through lyrical battles until he finally triumphs at the top, has been hyped up as if it were something really special. But in truth, it's really just the same story as many Black rappers'. If you think about it, it could have easily been his boy Proof, a member of D12 known in his community to be an equally skilled MC. But it wasn't.
Today, Marshall Mathers III, a White MC born in St. Joseph, Missouri, is rap's biggest success story. Without a doubt, he is a very skilled rapper-maybe one of the best. After all, his independent work garnered critical acclaim and earned Em a spot in the coveted Unsigned Hype column in this magazine before he was ever signed. In his seven-year career, Eminem has released three major-label albums, sold over 20-million records worldwide, started his own Hip-Hop label, and has been called a genius by Rolling Stone. But his race has earned him privileges. He marched into the MTV Video Music Awards with over 100 clones of himself, something no Black rapper would have been allowed to do.
Arguably, there is a desire on the part of top executives at major media outlets and corporations like MTV, which has had, at best, a shaky history of dealing with Black music, to see a White person in Hip-Hop slide into the top spot. But because Hip-Hop represents the oppressed communities and speaks for the victims of the embedded racist structure that is still prevalent in this country, there is a risk when these tendencies go unchecked. It is, in fact, the duty of these corporations who are involved in Hip-Hop to be sensitive to these issues. And now, the harsh reality is that the people that have laid down the foundation, along with the younger generation for whom it was created, are being forced out of the one thing they have that truly gives them a voice.
Until recently, Eminem has seemed very careful about his place as a White rapper in a predominantly African American and Latino Hip-Hop culture. And in a November 2002 Vibe article, he had this to say about using the word "[censored]": "It's not my place to say it. There's some things that I just don't do."
But on an old recording (produced by White beatmakers he no longer works with), which was given to The Source in October of last year, Eminem opposes dating Black women "'cause I don't like that [censored] shit." On another song he calls Black people "moon crickets," "spear chuckers" and "porch monkeys."
To put it in perspective, remember this is a White rapper with the ability to influence millions of minds who is saying these things to other White people behind closed doors.
To date, few Hip-Hop players have called Marshall Mathers out on these racist comments, probably because he holds so much power in the game, but there is a growing chorus of dissent among Black leaders outside of the music industry. And many of the people near his beloved 8 Mile, people with whom he collaborated during his rise to superstardom, aren't afraid to speak on it. Understanding Marshall Mathers's past-his life before the Black community accepted him-explains how a rapper of his caliber could have something like the racist recording hidden in his closet. See, during his high school days, he was going back and forth across 8 Mile.
THE D
8 Mile is a major roadway in Detroit that divides the suburbs from the city. If you go toward 7 Mile, you find the 'hood, complete with Coney Island restaurants and oversized liquor stores. That side is predominantly Black. The city of Detroit, as a whole, is actually 83 percent Black, with the third highest number of Blacks of any city in the United States. On the other side of 8 Mile, going north toward 9 Mile, is considered the suburbs. That area is mostly made up of White people.
Historically, Detroit has been a breeding ground for talent, specifically Black talent. The birthplace of Motown Records, Detroit has seen the rise of Stevie Wonder and the Jackson 5, among many others. But where Hip-Hop is concerned, there's a long line of artists whose names have somehow been written out of history. Few have actually achieved mainstream or national recognition, aside from Eminem and Kid Rock.
The first rap artist from Detroit to sign a major recording deal was late-'80s pioneer Awesome Dre. Then came Esham, who sold hundreds of thousands of records independently. Both were hardcore rappers and are cited as pioneers of Detroit Hip-Hop. Eventually, gangsta groups, such as Detroit's Most Wanted and Rap Mafia, became local legends like their predecessors. Their stories are the ones that are rarely told.
But when Hip-Hop began to reflect its more conscious artists in the early '90s, Detroit lyricists such as Proof started emerging. Soon thereafter, clothing entrepreneur Maurice Malone founded the Hip-Hop Shop, a clothing store where local artists showcased their lyrical skills. Eminem was a part of that circuit.
The VH1 specials, articles, MTV shows and especially the film 8 Mile would have you believe that Eminem grew up in one of Detroit's Black neighborhoods. But, actually, Marshall Mathers went to Lincoln High School, a predominantly White school in the Detroit suburb of Warren, Michigan, dubbed War-n-tucky for its reputation as a hotbed of racism. He moved to Warren in his early teens.
From 1988 when Em was 16 until around 1993 when he was 21, Eminem formed a rap collective known as Bassmint Productions. The all-White crew consisted of Eminem (M&M) himself, another MC, Chaos Kid, and a pair of brothers, DJ Buttafingaz and Manix, who did production. Together, they performed at local shows and recorded hundreds of tapes. In 1991, Manix's friend Shortcut, a White Hip-Hop dancer who frequented the clubs back then, met Champtown while dancing for Rob Base in Canada, and Shortcut introduced him to Bassmint Productions. Champtown is an African American rapper and entrepreneur who started rhyming when he was 9. He was raised in the streets of Detroit and was a reputable Hip-Hop head in the community. He had been down with Esham in his earlier years and later started his own label, Straight Jacket Records. He introduced Eminem to his side of 8 Mile. This man, however, has been left out of Eminem's story, and there is much more to it than people know.
Bassmint Productions' two MCs had different styles. "Eminem was a battle rapper, very heroic, very egotistical, while Chaos Kid was very conscious, a Poor Righteous Teachers, Public Enemy, KRS-One type of guy," says Champtown. "[T]hey definitely clashed on the creativity side. They both had skills as far as delivery goes, but their subject matter was different. If they are on a record and one is rapping about himself and what he will do to MCs and then Chaos Kid would rap about how the sun is going to fall and burn us all, it would just be too much of a difference, [so] eventually they decided to go their own separate ways."
Chaos Kid, who is currently promoting a community-focused organization Idle Kids, no longer speaks to Champ-town, but agrees he and Eminem were too different to remain in a group together. "For a while, I did influence him … but I was about Public Enemy and he was Naughty By Nature," Chaos Kid explains.
the making of a hip-hop monopoly
This diagram illustrates the magnitude of the current and growing monopolization of Hip-Hop. Corporate control and concentration of radio, retail distribution and major recording artists under one record label has affected the ability of independent artists and labels to compete or succeed. In addition, the only music that is heard and promoted from this conglomerate is highly focused on questionable themes-crime, drugs, murder etc.-while Black and Latino communities are continually victimized by these conditions.
interscope records
Over 20% of all Hip-Hop albums sold in 2003 were released under the Interscope Records umbrella, which includes record labels such as Geffen/A&M and DreamWorks. Interscope is overseen by chairman and CEO Jimmy Iovine and is filtered through their top-selling Hip-Hop acts, Eminem and 50 Cent, who, along with producer Dr. Dre, have label deals of their own (Shady, G-Unit and Aftermath Records). Interscope has created extremely tight-knit relationships with the three critical outlets for control of Hip-Hop: radio, MTV and retail. The creativity of top artists is effectively dictated by the system and is made to fit the new corporate arrangement (uncontroversial, radio-friendly first singles with R&B choruses).
And NO I didnt personally type it all up. ENJOY!
New Eminem Article in the Source + Makes Cover
the extinction agenda
There's something in the way of things. At the end of The Roots' Phrenology, poet Amiri Baraka warned of an in?uential force that no one would name. Hip-Hop is being driven by something but isn't driven by anything. No, it's not just Eminem. That would be giving him too much credit. But he is a symptom of it. A symptom of
our reluctance to take control of what we created instead of being idle participants. That "something" in the way is a jarring emptiness and lack of focus. Turbulence. But in the pages that follow, The Source takes the controls and allows our artists, politicians and readers to finally confront the forces of racism, sexism and denial that are slowly killing our culture.
The real Slim Shady
The Source uncovers the startling truth about
Marshall Mathers and the racist comments
that have Hip-Hop patiently waiting for answers
Words by Kim Osorio
Let's do the math. If Eminem were Black, he would have sold half-or a lot less than half. His story, that of a skilled lyricist born and raised in Detroit, fully immersed in Hip-Hop culture and struggling through lyrical battles until he finally triumphs at the top, has been hyped up as if it were something really special. But in truth, it's really just the same story as many Black rappers'. If you think about it, it could have easily been his boy Proof, a member of D12 known in his community to be an equally skilled MC. But it wasn't.
Today, Marshall Mathers III, a White MC born in St. Joseph, Missouri, is rap's biggest success story. Without a doubt, he is a very skilled rapper-maybe one of the best. After all, his independent work garnered critical acclaim and earned Em a spot in the coveted Unsigned Hype column in this magazine before he was ever signed. In his seven-year career, Eminem has released three major-label albums, sold over 20-million records worldwide, started his own Hip-Hop label, and has been called a genius by Rolling Stone. But his race has earned him privileges. He marched into the MTV Video Music Awards with over 100 clones of himself, something no Black rapper would have been allowed to do.
Arguably, there is a desire on the part of top executives at major media outlets and corporations like MTV, which has had, at best, a shaky history of dealing with Black music, to see a White person in Hip-Hop slide into the top spot. But because Hip-Hop represents the oppressed communities and speaks for the victims of the embedded racist structure that is still prevalent in this country, there is a risk when these tendencies go unchecked. It is, in fact, the duty of these corporations who are involved in Hip-Hop to be sensitive to these issues. And now, the harsh reality is that the people that have laid down the foundation, along with the younger generation for whom it was created, are being forced out of the one thing they have that truly gives them a voice.
Until recently, Eminem has seemed very careful about his place as a White rapper in a predominantly African American and Latino Hip-Hop culture. And in a November 2002 Vibe article, he had this to say about using the word "[censored]": "It's not my place to say it. There's some things that I just don't do."
But on an old recording (produced by White beatmakers he no longer works with), which was given to The Source in October of last year, Eminem opposes dating Black women "'cause I don't like that [censored] shit." On another song he calls Black people "moon crickets," "spear chuckers" and "porch monkeys."
To put it in perspective, remember this is a White rapper with the ability to influence millions of minds who is saying these things to other White people behind closed doors.
To date, few Hip-Hop players have called Marshall Mathers out on these racist comments, probably because he holds so much power in the game, but there is a growing chorus of dissent among Black leaders outside of the music industry. And many of the people near his beloved 8 Mile, people with whom he collaborated during his rise to superstardom, aren't afraid to speak on it. Understanding Marshall Mathers's past-his life before the Black community accepted him-explains how a rapper of his caliber could have something like the racist recording hidden in his closet. See, during his high school days, he was going back and forth across 8 Mile.
THE D
8 Mile is a major roadway in Detroit that divides the suburbs from the city. If you go toward 7 Mile, you find the 'hood, complete with Coney Island restaurants and oversized liquor stores. That side is predominantly Black. The city of Detroit, as a whole, is actually 83 percent Black, with the third highest number of Blacks of any city in the United States. On the other side of 8 Mile, going north toward 9 Mile, is considered the suburbs. That area is mostly made up of White people.
Historically, Detroit has been a breeding ground for talent, specifically Black talent. The birthplace of Motown Records, Detroit has seen the rise of Stevie Wonder and the Jackson 5, among many others. But where Hip-Hop is concerned, there's a long line of artists whose names have somehow been written out of history. Few have actually achieved mainstream or national recognition, aside from Eminem and Kid Rock.
The first rap artist from Detroit to sign a major recording deal was late-'80s pioneer Awesome Dre. Then came Esham, who sold hundreds of thousands of records independently. Both were hardcore rappers and are cited as pioneers of Detroit Hip-Hop. Eventually, gangsta groups, such as Detroit's Most Wanted and Rap Mafia, became local legends like their predecessors. Their stories are the ones that are rarely told.
But when Hip-Hop began to reflect its more conscious artists in the early '90s, Detroit lyricists such as Proof started emerging. Soon thereafter, clothing entrepreneur Maurice Malone founded the Hip-Hop Shop, a clothing store where local artists showcased their lyrical skills. Eminem was a part of that circuit.
The VH1 specials, articles, MTV shows and especially the film 8 Mile would have you believe that Eminem grew up in one of Detroit's Black neighborhoods. But, actually, Marshall Mathers went to Lincoln High School, a predominantly White school in the Detroit suburb of Warren, Michigan, dubbed War-n-tucky for its reputation as a hotbed of racism. He moved to Warren in his early teens.
From 1988 when Em was 16 until around 1993 when he was 21, Eminem formed a rap collective known as Bassmint Productions. The all-White crew consisted of Eminem (M&M) himself, another MC, Chaos Kid, and a pair of brothers, DJ Buttafingaz and Manix, who did production. Together, they performed at local shows and recorded hundreds of tapes. In 1991, Manix's friend Shortcut, a White Hip-Hop dancer who frequented the clubs back then, met Champtown while dancing for Rob Base in Canada, and Shortcut introduced him to Bassmint Productions. Champtown is an African American rapper and entrepreneur who started rhyming when he was 9. He was raised in the streets of Detroit and was a reputable Hip-Hop head in the community. He had been down with Esham in his earlier years and later started his own label, Straight Jacket Records. He introduced Eminem to his side of 8 Mile. This man, however, has been left out of Eminem's story, and there is much more to it than people know.
Bassmint Productions' two MCs had different styles. "Eminem was a battle rapper, very heroic, very egotistical, while Chaos Kid was very conscious, a Poor Righteous Teachers, Public Enemy, KRS-One type of guy," says Champtown. "[T]hey definitely clashed on the creativity side. They both had skills as far as delivery goes, but their subject matter was different. If they are on a record and one is rapping about himself and what he will do to MCs and then Chaos Kid would rap about how the sun is going to fall and burn us all, it would just be too much of a difference, [so] eventually they decided to go their own separate ways."
Chaos Kid, who is currently promoting a community-focused organization Idle Kids, no longer speaks to Champ-town, but agrees he and Eminem were too different to remain in a group together. "For a while, I did influence him … but I was about Public Enemy and he was Naughty By Nature," Chaos Kid explains.
the making of a hip-hop monopoly
This diagram illustrates the magnitude of the current and growing monopolization of Hip-Hop. Corporate control and concentration of radio, retail distribution and major recording artists under one record label has affected the ability of independent artists and labels to compete or succeed. In addition, the only music that is heard and promoted from this conglomerate is highly focused on questionable themes-crime, drugs, murder etc.-while Black and Latino communities are continually victimized by these conditions.
interscope records
Over 20% of all Hip-Hop albums sold in 2003 were released under the Interscope Records umbrella, which includes record labels such as Geffen/A&M and DreamWorks. Interscope is overseen by chairman and CEO Jimmy Iovine and is filtered through their top-selling Hip-Hop acts, Eminem and 50 Cent, who, along with producer Dr. Dre, have label deals of their own (Shady, G-Unit and Aftermath Records). Interscope has created extremely tight-knit relationships with the three critical outlets for control of Hip-Hop: radio, MTV and retail. The creativity of top artists is effectively dictated by the system and is made to fit the new corporate arrangement (uncontroversial, radio-friendly first singles with R&B choruses).
