In honor of the 50th anniversary of hip-hop, Hip Hop is History takes us on a journey through milestone artists, producers, albums, songs, style developments, and events over time that have made the genre what it is today. Interwoven with this are stories from the life of Questlove, lover of hip-hop and history-maker in his own right, that give us unique insight into his perspectives on music and how the industry works. Along the way, this book looks at important issues like black pain, toxic ego, and the dangers of an industry that is often steeped in violence and drug use. Finally, it closes with musings about what the next 50 years of hip-hop might look like. While this book is special for its encyclopedic knowledge of hip-hop, as well its passion for the genre’s music and people, this piece’s strength and clarity are undermined by major issues with the quality of the writing itself, especially in the first half.
I’ll begin with some things that worked well for me. First, this book drips with both Questlove’s knowledge and passion. It is carefully researched and provides a wealth of information about MCs, DJs, and producers; albums and individual songs; and trends in the development of the genre, among other things. And that knowledge is lent impact by how much Questlove’s love for the genre and the people who have and continue to make it comes through. A stand-out moment is when we learn about how much the music of Public Enemy impacted him when he was young, another is in the introduction, when we learn about how invested he was in creating a 50-year-anniversary Grammy performance that did the history of the genre justice.
The moments of memoir are also engaging and easy to get invested in. In particular, my favorite moments in the entire book are those in which we get to watch Questlove’s opinions about hip-hop (as well as his overall perspectives on life) evolve when he encounters new music and people. For example, it was fascinating reading his description of coming to terms with the popularity of the Wu-Tang Clan’s seemingly low-brow music and deciding that he didn’t need to be elitist about how producers use music samples.
I am impressed by the ways that the book manages to put the experience of listening to songs and musical styles into words, too. Writing about music is not an easy thing to pull off, and the book does so with a casual poetry that I enjoy. One of my favorite moments is when the writers compare the Bomb Squad’s album No One Can Do It Better to Dr. Dre’s album The Chronic in the following way: “The Bomb Squad had layered sample upon sample, like a display rack at a carpet store. Dr. Dre just put down carpet and let you walk on it.”
The flaws in the book are too detrimental to the overall reading experience to ignore, though. First of all, I think this book is trying to do too much in too little space. It’s a lot to ask writers to cover 50 years of history, while also providing critical commentary on that history and adding elements of memoir in about 300 pages (fewer really, since there are blank pages between chapters). The result, in my opinion, is that the book is sometimes underdeveloped. In the first half, we would have been better served if there had been discussions about events in the broader culture and how they impacted the development of hip-hop, if for no other reason than to provide us grounding in history we are more familiar with. In the second half, I was happy to see that some events outside of the industry (the election of Obama, for example) were introduced, but they were often dropped quickly without the writers saying much about their consequences for hip-hop. There was also a really limited amount of critical discussion of some important issues in rap music like homophobia and misogyny, the second of which is especially notable since the writers also said little about women artists themselves. Nicki Minaj, Lil’ Kim, Azealia Banks, and Doja Cat were the only women artists who were granted more than a couple sentences. (I’m going to give the writers the benefit-of-the-doubt and blame that on a lack of space instead of misogyny on their part, though.)
The weaknesses in the book’s craft also create major issues in clarity. Transitions between ideas within paragraphs and between paragraphs are often so rough as to impede understanding. The best example I can think of happens during a section in the 1987-1992 paragraph. We are moved rapidly between information about The Bomb Squad, the Beastie Boys, Cherry Hill Mall (an actual shopping mall), and Prince’s soundtrack for Tim Burton’s Batman, which little connection made between them. I’m still not sure what I was supposed to get from that page and a half.
Sometimes points are also so underdeveloped as to leave major logic gaps. For example, I am still trying to figure out why Kurt Corbain’s suicide led to The Roots having to almost immediately go on a European tour, even though it came up twice in the book. (Did the record label send them out because, having lost a major source of income, they needed money NOW?)
Probably most frustrating, though, is the use of frequent and sometimes very long asides that interrupt the flow of the narrative, making it difficult to figure out what the important points are and how they connect to each other. At one point I counted an aside in parentheses that was 17 lines long; later I counted one that was 19 lines. Oddly enough, there is also a section of nested asides that the writers note by spelling out “open parentheses,” “open parentheses within parentheses,” and “open parentheses within parentheses within parentheses,” which I might have found funny if I hadn’t been so dang confused.
Overall, this book frustrated me because it had so much potential that just wasn’t realized.
CW: domestic violence, gun violence, murder, sexual assault, n-slur, suicide, misogyny, homophobia, racism