9/2/2014
Encore Muziek Festival:
Hip-Hop and Head-Bobbing Universalism
The most
astonishing thing about Encore Muziek Festival, a showcase of primarily (by the
program, perhaps 70%) Dutch hip-hop artists taking place in Amsterdam, was how
very American it was. Based on the lineup, and of course the location of the
event, I had not so astonishingly assumed that this festival would be largely
focused on Dutch music. Nestled within the mountainous midst of
seemingly defunct cranes and other shipyard paraphernalia, the circus tents of
Encore Muziek Festival are hidden from view as you arrive on ferry from
Centraal Station. Besides a generally laxer policy towards marijuana at the
security gate, upon entry Encore appeared and sounded almost exactly like any
hip-hop festival I had attended in the States. Though initially disappointed
that Encore did not deliver an especially Dutch touch, I ultimately became
fascinated by the festival as an example of how deeply American culture is
woven into international hip-hop, and furthermore by hip-hop’s natural ability
to transcend cultural and geographic boundaries.
Examining rankings
of all-time top-selling music artists, there is a strong international presence
across all major genres (pop, rock, R&B, jazz, etc.) with the exception of
hip-hop. Forefronted by Eminem, Jay Z, and Tupac Shakur, respectively, nearly
every top-grossing hip-hop album since the genre’s explosive rise to prominence
in the early 1980s was made in America, and the influence and primacy of
American-ness in international hip-hop culture tangibly resonated for me at
Encore. While there was a numerical majority of Dutch artists, the event
focused promotional attention on the American headliners—Vic Mensa, Pusha T, Ty
Dolla $ign, and Kid Ink—all of whom rapped on the centrally located Live Stage.
The other two stages, tucked in a corner and noticeably less crowded, rotated
between Dutch hip-hop DJs who seemed to play exclusively American hip-hop.
During the 4.5+ hours I spent at Encore Muziek Festival, I never consciously heard one Dutch song; that
is to say, if I had indeed heard a Dutch song while I was there, it was so
carefully modeled after American hip-hop that any cultural distinction had been
rendered null and void.
This brings up another
idea with regards to the similarity (or rather, lack of distinction) I found between
the music at Encore and at an American hip-hop music festival: what I’d like to
term the ‘universality’ of hip-hop. Ty Dolla $ign’s most popular song (based on
audience enthusiasm and participation) had the following chorus:
“All I smoke is papers (papers)/
all I smoke is papers (papers)/ I’m a motherfuckin’ Taylor (Taylor)/ I’m a
motherfuckin’ Taylor (Taylor)” x2
Now, for the life of me, I cannot
accurately recall if I had ever heard
this song before, but after approximately two seconds of listening, I was
scream-singing the words as loud as anyone else in the crowd (and believe me,
there was a lot of scream-singing going on). Ty Dolla $ign did not write a
lyrical masterpiece, he wrote something infinitely accessible. The words
employed are short and easy to both say and understand for English and
non-English speakers alike, creating a seamless global marketplace for this
style of music that perhaps partially explains the lack of international
diversity in the genre; hip-hop, American-made or otherwise, contains an
inherent universalism. While there are of course some exceptionally poetic
hip-hop lyricists, I’d argue that successful hip-hop primarily trades on an artist’s
ability to translate an accessible (as opposed to intellectualized or abstract)
narrative/prose into catchy rhyme schemes atop an equally accessible and catchy
beat.
For me, it all
starts with the head bob. When you hear a good beat in hip-hop there’s a
visceral reaction. Your body responds before your brain has time to process
what it is you’re hearing, or even why it is that you like it. It’s nothing
like hearing the Beatles for the first time; the beat in hip-hop is unemotional
and doesn’t trade on tonal subtleties. Quite the opposite, hip-hop thrives on
repetition—whether it’s a refrain repeated without change before and after
every verse, or a consistent beat carried throughout an entire song. As
illustrated in the above example, the simplicity and repetitive nature of Ty
Dolla $ign’s music and lyrics—characteristic of hip-hop generally—make the song
feel familiar even if you have never heard it before. The slant rhyme he uses
in this refrain is aurally pleasing, and equally pleasing for the crowd to yell
out in unison with the rapper (as is largely encouraged at hip-hop concerts,
unlike many other genres). And the beat is head-bobbing—a hypnotic hip-hop
combination of deep-in-your-gut bluesiness and heart-racing poppiness that at
once makes you want to both sit down and stand up.
While I still hope
to see a live performance by a Dutch rapper before I leave Amsterdam, Encore Muziek
Festival was a truly incredible experience not only because of the many
talented performers, but also for the broader awareness I gained about the
influence of American culture on the international hip-hop scene. When the beat
dropped, it didn’t matter where we were, where we came from, or what language
we spoke, we all bobbed our heads.
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