Author: Unknown
Published on: 27/01/2025 | 00:00:00

AI Summary:
A few years ago, when reports came out that Ellie Kemper was crowned at the Veiled Prophet debutante ball, I turned over and went back to bed. A week ago, TikTok gushed over Donald Trump and did as much of a digital soft-shoe as possible. It was something about 90s hip-hop stars joining the queue to kiss the ring at Trump’s inaugural balls that still keeps me up at night. For many of us Black millennials – especially those raised We used this art as a soundtrack to what we knew they thought of as our disposable lives. It was the most accessible evidence to prove to ourselves that the world was lying to us about the “inferiority of Black people” We didn’t need that well-intentioned white lady teacher pitying us for being Black. We had a poster with George Washington Carver with a jar of peanut butter. Fox News is reporting that Snoop Dogg “wows the crowd” at a pre-inauguration event. In the 90s, white power campaigned to ban hip-hop. How complete is its victory that now it has it rubbing its feet? Nelly said but “he is the president”. There is no paucity of tracks that speak about our not being cool with presidents. Millennials may have to abandon them and explore the colonised sector’s new music and new generation of artists, here and abroad. Gen Z has spent half their lives staring directly into the eyes of open fascism and has been forced out to witness the public, viral lynching of the Black innocent daily. Anticolonialism misdirected as horizontal violence in drill lyrics is more useful to Black liberation than a conscious rapper trying to find nuance in colonialism. Millennials’ hip-hop may abandon the slum, but it will have its day. When it does, it will stand over colonism’s body, Buggin Out’s boombox on its shoulder, singing that old Black colonised sector’s spiritual, “It’s bigger than hip–hop.”

Original: 1424 words
Summary: 331 words
Percent reduction: 76.76%

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