New Music Vs. Old Music, PT. 3 - “A Love Letter To The Early 2000’s” [Article]
What up one & all. Sky Bento here on the check-in once again. Big Bento Energy is most definitely in full effect. Hope you & yours are doing good & well. Drinking water, protecting your mental health, knowing the vibes & all.
Okay, now it’s ACTUALLY SPRING. It really feels like 2022 is in full swing now, and a sense of normality has returned after two full years of a global health crisis (which we are still in, if you didn’t know). Spring is actually my favorite season. It’s bounce back season, where things start to come back to life. I remember one year early on in my adulthood, I was left heartbroken over the Holiday season. Toward the end of that Winter I copped a new whip and life was feeling good. So when that sun came out, I had to properly celebrate. So what I do? Stunt like my m***********g Daddy and ride around blasting early 2000’s rap/R&B with the windows down and a Nike headband on. I’m talking Ja Rule, T-Pain, Nelly, The Neptunes, Fabolous, Mariah Carey, you know the vibes. But why this sound in particular? It could be my memories of MTV’s Spring Break coverage or BET’s Spring Bling, but beyond that the music itself just had an aesthetic perfectly suited to warmer weather. I’m convinced this isn’t just nostalgia, this is by design. The early 2000’s were the era of thug love songs. Let’s dive into it.
So as I covered in part two of this trilogy, the 90’s ended with the shiny suit era. After the tragic deaths of two of rap’s most beloved ghetto heroes - 2Pac, followed by The Notorious B.I.G. - there was a desperate attempt to change the narrative. Gangsta this, gangsta that. That’s all the national news coverage made us out to be. “Rapper” and “thug” were really just code words for nigger to outlets like Fox News. But it wasn’t like now where acts were getting scooped up at crazy young ages, these are grown Black men, or at least young adults. And men have feelings. But nobody wanted to lose their gangsta image. So at the turn of the 2000’s, even the party hits were hard-hitting club bangers designed to boost your adrenaline. This fed the narrative more however, as these records were often laced with violent threats. The charts ate this sh*t up though. Hip-Hop was still an up and coming genre at the time and still sought out national recognition as an art-form. So the hit-makers of the days sought to follow an archetype and create music that would stand the test of time. Music that could be played at a club, or a barbecue with the whole family on a sunny Spring afternoon: love songs.
If you remember from part one of this trilogy, I’ve already spoken about how songs about raw human emotion and life experiences can connect to us directly and stick with us for a lifetime. Love songs lead the pack. Even the most substance-less bubblegum pop joints are often made about love as a cheat code, just in case the melody draws you in enough to pay attention to the lyrics. But thug love songs were different. Rap is more about lyrics than a lot of other genres (at least at the time). These love songs connected to the Black experience in a way that Soul singers and R&B virtuosos simply could not. There was a realism to them that spoke the African American psyche, the whole mantra of having to survive was weaved into the narrative flawlessly. Typically the story went along the lines of “Yo, it’s crazy out in these streets so can you love me as an escape?” or “Yo, it’s ugly out here in the hood and these b*tches keep lying to me so I’m going to do my thing and assume you are too… but I still love you.” or even “Yo, it’s gorgeous outside and you would look gorgeous inside my Bentley. What’s your phone number,? Can I two-way you?” [makes Boost mobile chirp noise and dies of a nostalgia-filled laughter]. In other words, this specific brand of love song brought us closer into these million dollar brands we bought into under the guise of our favorite rappers. It was the true test to see which MC’s could craft actual hit records.
Normally you’d have something like Ja Rule (I just watched Scary Movie 3 and forgot he was in that, so I’m gonna give him all his flowers right now) rapping the verses about balancing life on the streets with life in the sheets, while Ashanti or J. Lo or Mariah Carey swoop in for the hook about sticking around and loving a Black man through the toughest of times. These songs weren’t the most technical display of who’s the best rapper but for a long time an artist needed to show they were capable of making these types of songs (when paired with the right singer of course). At the core these records had the same “forget about your troubles and your 9-5” energy as hits of generations past. It’s beautiful and the Bush era needed it. In fact, who’s to say we’d even be where we are right now as a culture without these records. Rap is a global phenomenon and has gotten bigger than our forefather’s wildest dreams. This era is nostalgic for all who were outside at the time, be it outside the liquor store making plays or outside at the playground running around with water guns. Even the beats were this bouncy new take on boom bap drums with strings that remind of young love, beeping synths that could fit on a Nextel ringtone screen, and sounds you would particularly hear in R&B music. These records bridged the gap between rap & R&B like never before and fast forward 20 years we have artists like Drake dominating the charts with a vice-grip.
Personally for me, these records always had that “look at the bright side” vibe. They held love in a new light, a light that does not pretend there aren’t difficulties along the road. That Spring I got my car, these records gave me faith in love again while also being real about how bumpy the drive could get. I feel like my whole generation is looking for someone to split the Ja Rule & Ashanti duets with. Busta Rhymes & Mariah Carey. Nelly & Kelly Rowland. Hov & Mya. Them last two are about cheating but still. There’s hardly any sadness in these records, but they showed us another side of these rappers. And like generations of rap before, a lot of these records were built on samples of love songs from older generations. As kids, we didn’t know it but our folks were getting down with these joints with complete familiarity. Now the new generation is sampling these songs and making them their own. New York as the capital of rap has finally put its own spin on the drill sound of Chicago and the UK with its integration of samples from the 2000’s that our older sisters might have played. The gorgeous disparity between sweet love songs and harder content is not lost on the newer generation at all.
So the debate was about old music versus new music right? Well, that’s dead because what’s new will eventually become old, and what’s old will eventually be made new. The one thing that will always be present is love. It’s universal. We love our families, our friends, our favorite foods, our favorite songs, and more. And to quote the great Will Smith “love will make you do crazy things”. Crazy things like comparing a newer artist you really connect with personally (like A Boogie) to an older artist who likely inspired them and countless others by connecting with them the same way (like Lauryn Hill). People might look at you crazy for loving what you love, but love is one of our only escapes from the monotony that is life on Earth. Love is what’s going to push us forward as a culture, at any given time, wherever we are. Love got me my new car. Love created some of my fondest memories. And if you’ve read these three articles and picked up what I’m putting down, then thank you for the love. I love you too.
EVERY THUG NEEDS A LADYYYYYY
Okay, I’m done. This concludes my trilogy of articles diving into the “older music is better” debate. I hope you’ve loved reading this as much as I’ve loved writing it. Now let’s get ready for the Summertime.