OP-ED: Drill Rap, Kaijus And The Future Of Hip-Hop

1954 marked the onscreen debut of one of the most famous movie monsters in history, Godzilla. The iconic film spearheaded the Kaiju genre and while the films have entertained millions around the world, the origins of the story paint the picture of a country gripped by paranoia. Godzilla itself spawned from the  trauma that lingered post WW2.  For 1950s Japan, a country reeling from the atomic attacks of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, a 164 foot tall lizard coming from the depths of the ocean was basically a collective post-traumatic stress disorder nightmare.

While this level of societal coping makes sense in the post-atomic bomb Japanese point of view, it’s important to look at why the films of the genre resonated in the west and what exactly that popularity can tell us about celebrity, drill rap, and the future of hip-hop as a whole. The exoticism and orientalism of it all plays into it however, the greater answer lies in the way America specifically views monsters.  When the cultural context is changed the question becomes what is the value in creating this much spectacle around a monster? 

A key facet of Kaiju movies is the spectacle of it all, watching the pure carnage unleashed by these larger than life figures allows an almost out of body experience. The filmmakers in this genre know this and dedicate many shots to display the scale of these creatures, how they tower above their domain and how we normal people are dwarfed in comparison. This serves to highlight how monsters are useful as mechanisms of control, that is what the spectacle provides.This view of spectacle is baked into every facet of the genre and while it seems strange this relates directly to the way we view drill rap. .

The spectacle in this case results in pure dehumanization. As a genre, drill rap is largely recognized by subject matter, like its predecessor gangsta rap, this sub-genre takes a hard look at the reality that America has subjected a lot of its Black population to. Artists such as Pop Smoke, Chief Keef and others helped define the sound all while putting regional flares on it as time progressed.

This in no way is demonization of drill rap as a genre, in fact I’d say it’s the exact opposite. The stories and lifestyle that these artists characterize in their lyrics are real and prescient even if they are not always presented in the most wholesome ways. Unfortunately, this plays right into the way the American audience consumes monster media. 

Largely the discussion of monsters rely on archetypes. Just as Godzilla shows up and destroys the city, many drill rappers behave in hyper-macho and braggadocious ways making it very easy for a primed audience to dismiss their material conditions entirely. They are no longer dealing with the struggles of a person but a symbol that grants them voyeuristic access to a world, much more exciting than anything they’ve known. As is the case with many monster and disaster movies, the fear and anxiety that all would be so chilling in the correct  cultural context is diluted and morphed into undistilled spectacle. While living vicariously through these rappers, this view gives the audience  a sense of superiority and  demonstrates which qualities are desirable in society and which should be cast aside or viewed for entertainment. 

Let’s look at a real life example, two young Black men from Chicago, Barack Obama and King Von, both responsible for some wrong doings (to put it mildly) but only one is probably going to have his picture hung up in your granny’s living room and it’s not the one responsible for less endless terror and senseless loss of life. 

In this example we see how exactly the presentation of monstrous tendencies  influences our perception of actions. King Von hit all of the markers that we are told to be fearful of in Black men, while Barack Obama, war crimes and all, retains a largely spotless public image. While  President Obama also experienced his own set of vilification it was not very hard for anyone being honest to call out the implicitly racist nature of his treatment. It just seems  when the death and destruction is done in the service of empire, all can be explained away and  forgiven, but when the empire’s homegrown oppressive circumstances create “monsters” the  true vilification starts. Understanding this is not an excuse for any harm that King Von committed during his life. The victims of his actions were caught up in the same circumstances that led to their lives being taken and they deserve our utmost attention and sympathy as well. However, what it does illustrate is blind willingness to mythologize certain people as monsters for the sake of entertainment and maintaining well established norms. 

Understanding this dynamic is crucial to understanding America’s concept of the monster but also to important understanding the true difference between these two, celebrity. 

Barack Obama is a celebrity, King Von was famous. While the difference may seem minute it is seminal to understanding the construction of American monsters. Celebrity is a class indicator,  and due to his job as President, Obama  became useful enough to capital interest to assume that status. In the words of George Carlin “It’s a big club” and rappers of the mid to late 2000s were not in it. While the culture they created dominated the world and influenced millions,  the rappers themselves still were not considered celebrity status. If you still think I’m reaching, here is a real quote from then Vice Presidential hopeful Joe Biden on Barack Obama in 2007 “I mean, you got the first sort of mainstream African-American…who is articulate and bright and clean and a nice-looking guy.”  

This wildly racist statement gets to the heart of what it takes to delineate between the monstrous and the acceptable. Celebrity itself has always been based on the unrealistic and unhealthy relationship we have with materialistic wealth and fame and what those factors allow is for this voyeurism of non-black and uninitiated fans to engage with these people as nothing more than characters no more real than Godzilla himself. This dynamic is amplified when that celebrity is Black, as it allows access to Blackness that most white consumers would not have without having Black people in their day to day lives. It allows the gaze of the consumer to not only define the celebrity but in turn for the image of the celebrity to be worn by the fan.

The view of these artists has become equivalent to observing an ant farm. As drill rap grew as a genre, the listener base began to reflect the artist less in both race and economic standing. It is all of the most toxic elements of celebrity worship mixed with anti-Blackness that has created this environment.These narratives are not only damaging for the Black artist involved in these situations but doubly so for victims or family members of victims who are without the insulating powers of fame to protect them. 

Now post-Obama administration, it seems rappers can hold that type of culture staying power but at what cost? The biggest figures of the older eras are all paying for their abuses of power during those times and ironically landing them right back in the monster category, although much more deserving this time. With that reality in mind where does this leave not just drill as a sub-genre, but hip-hop as whole? Has the genre succumbed to coordinated attacks against it and been rendered useless to those it once served? 

Not quite the future  of hip-hop lies firmly on the shoulders of a group that has been largely absent in this analysis Black women. Despite historically being a major part of the genre, Black women have really only ever fought over one mythological spot in hip-hop writ at large. Those abuses from the elders and old gatekeepers typically were aimed in the direction of Black women and despite this, they have managed to keep the culture on track. Artists with diverse styles and influences like GloRilla, Doechii, Lola Brooke, Scar Lip and many more are carving out a different understanding of the rap landscape. 

Black women are, of course, not immune from the monster treatment themselves.  Megan Thee Stallion comes to mind, another abuse victim, whose abuse became a footnote in a sea of misinformation and propaganda. The weapons formed against the women of the genre in this generation while different from the men is still harmful. The narrative around most of these women is that of temptresses or sirens attempting to lure men away from their families or whatever you’re hearing from a red pill podcast.  Instead of the truth that these are artists with more control on the presentation of their sexuality and presentation than ever before. It is much harder to demonize this crop that is determined to outline their own future and that of the genre as a whole. 

This is not a plea for Black women to keep hip-hop afloat while we wait for the men to recover, this is an acknowledgment of where the genre is going and how we as a community can keep it from being hijacked and propagandized again. What we have now is a group of people who have given the most  to while receiving the least back. The current battle for the future of hip-hop completely depends on our ability to not only protect Black women as people but as artists as well. To stop the cycle of fear mongering we must stop being afraid to give this genre over to those who loved it before it loved them back.