My fellow friends, acquaintances, and musical enthusiasts:
For the overwhelming majority of my life, I have been blessed to grow up in a musically eclectic environment. My father’s record collection includes the likes of Tchaikovsky, Stevie Wonder, and The Who. My brother, meanwhile, introduced me to classic rock, indie music, and the musical utopia that is Bonnaroo. Even my grandparents instilled within me an appreciation of folk and bluegrass music. To therefore say that my musical taste is one of tolerance and open-mindedness is an understatement.
However, such a diverse and rich musical environment was—in retrospect—flawed. In particular, I was told from an early age that hip-hop music was a glorification of gangs, an illegitimate form of music, and—in the most simplest of terms—inappropriate for my age. Now, let me be clear: there is certainly some truth to these stereotypes. Some of the most popular and mainstream hip-hop artists are overtly misogynistic and violent with their lyrics, all the while containing a message with very little depth and meaning.
However, let us not define the entirety of a genre with such narrow-mindedness. Hip hop has matured, grown, and evolved to be the music of my generation. No longer is it merely a genre used to “get hype” before a sporting event. Rather, it is a genre that has come to epitomize the trials and tribulations of life. Indeed, Kendrick Lamar eloquently and poetically raps about overcoming his life in the ghetto of Compton, Drake reduces even the most rugged of men to tears with his heart-wrenching verses about love and loss, while Kanye West cleverly discusses ongoing racial tensions within the United States. Yet… for some reason, society just cannot grasp these ideas. They hear the booming bass, the “atrocious language,” and dismiss it as “crap.” Excuse me, but when did art become an entity that could be understood on surface level? Jut as a modern art curator must challenge the general populace to understand the complex message behind seemingly simplistic works of art, so too must we—the hip hop enthusiasts—educate the general public about the richness of this wonderful genre.
Therefore, I come to all of you—dissenters and lovers of hip-hop alike—with open arms. Have a liberalizing mind, be open to new things, and listen with a critical ear. If you love the genre for the simple fact that “the beats are killer and the bass rumbles loud,” I urge you to sharpen your listening skills and OBSERVE the music intensely. If you are hearing hip-hop for the first time, listen to a wide range of hip-hop songs repetitively and consistently. Broaden your horizons, realize what you like, and stay away from what you find unappealing—after all, it is OKAY to criticize an artist or song. So, don’t just sing along: think along and analyze the piece of art that has been created specifically for YOU. An artist challenges and pushes himself every day, and so should you, the listener.
However, is that to say that there is one hip-hop artist or genre that appeals to grandmothers and grandsons, politicians and blue-collar workers, college students and stay-at-home moms alike? Until recently, I would have answered such a question with a resounding “NO.” I listen to differentiating sub-genres and artists of hip-hop based upon my mood, activities, and even the time of day. It therefore seems preposterous to conclude that one artist can consistently appeal to one person, let alone a diverse group of individuals. Yet… one artist in particular has severely challenged and uprooted such a perspective: O’Shea Woodhouse. As I reminisce upon my interview with O’Shea, I vividly remember one particular quote: “I am making music for the grandmothers and college students… I pride myself on making music for everyone.” Certainly, lots of artists claim to “make music for everyone,” but very few—particularly in the hip-hop genre—can truthfully validate such a feat. O’Shea does not curse in his raps (so you know your grandmother will be happy), uses a wide array of beats and instrumentals (leaving your musically overzealous brother overjoyed), and has an aura reminiscent of 60s and 70s soul music (making your Temptations-obsessed father proud). Most impressively, however, is the fact that Mr. Woodhouse always has a deep and meaningful message in every one of his songs. Whether it is worrying about personal satisfaction and gain, discussing socially pertinent issues such as education and violence, or even passionately lyricizing about love and loss, O’Shea’s brand of hip-hop is one devoid of exclusivity. He is—for lack of better terms—the artist of (and for) the people. Don’t merely let my words convince you, though: “Chill Summers,” O’Shea’s summer mixtape, drops tomorrow. So, whether you are a college student, grandmother, passionate lover of hip hop, or even a self-described “hater” of the genre, do yourself a favor and go to osheawoodhouse.bandcamp.com. I promise you won’t regret it.
Coalescence Magazine 