Saturday, September 19, 2015
MAN IS A SENTIENT SLAB, DESTINED TO SWANG FOR REASONS UNKNOWN
DJ Chose: "Where you're from is who you are." MC Beezy concurs: "I'm just a product of my environment." This the same shit Naturalists was pushin in the 19th century. Basically, these funboys jocked Darwin & Rous to the I.Z.Z.O., and said it ain't a person's fault if they're a lame or a Herbert or even a thot - they just a product of their environment. Nature vs. nurture.
In Vol. 2 of his My Struggle mixtape series, Karl Ove Mausberg is like, "Naaaah, Ion really fuck with that bruh." That kind of thinking might sound humanistic at first glance, like we all born equal until society comes out to hate on us, but later on you realize it's just a fuckass "expression of a mechanistic attitude to man, who, born empty, allows his life to be shaped by his surroundings." Boom, hot fire. He quotes his weed carrier Geir quotin some Scandinavian MF quotin the OG Bergman as saying, "...he would have been Bergman irrespective of where he had grown up, implying, in other words, that you are who you are whatever your surroundings. Yung Lean would have been wack no matter where he was born, his wack rapperness is intrinsic. By no chance could he be rare or secrete." Jay-Z follows this line of thinking on "Public Service Announcement" when he goes, "Man you was who you was 'fore you got here."
This argument can be traced back to the dawn of time, when Rakim declared, "It ain't where you're from, it's where you're at." In the New Testament, Havoc flipped it with the ill rejoinder: "Fuck where you at, kid, it's where you're from." DJ Chose & MC Beezy contradict themselves cause they sound less like H-Town constituents than DJ Mustard affiliates, with a little ATL glitz thrown in the fondue pot - specs on factory setting like they grew up in a Clear Channel focus group. It ain't where you're from, it's wherever motherfuckers are spending money. These rappers are lyin to you, mayne, but it's all good - they gave me a hot single and helped me deal with some deep-ass questions I be askin when I talk to the Holy Ghost from my Bugatti bunkbed.