When did I fall in love?

It was around the same time I had to let HER know that she must acknowledge her younger sister. That was a hard conversation to have with HER. I love HER even to this day, but SARA needed me, and I needed SARA. I don’t think people really knew HER’s little sister, SARA. SARA was the black sheep of the family. She wasn’t from the Bronx, Queens, Brooklyn, Harlem, or even Staten Island. She came from the other side of the Mason-Dixon line. She was a bastard to many. When SARA was born, she bounced around different households. She supposedly didn’t know about breakin’, tagging, scratchin’, or beat boxin’ as quick as people would have wanted. If you let some people tell it, SARA was just a country bumpkin that wore overalls, walked dirt roads barefooted, and spoke with a twang in her voice. You can see why she was not accepted so well and as quickly by HER. Since she wasn’t considered family, she stayed down South. Sometimes she stayed in Houston, TX. Maybe one weekend she found her way in Atlanta, GA. There were times she might stay overnight in New Orleans or Miami. If she needed to hide out, she could end up in Memphis, TN. She might have watched from afar, but the culture was in her blood… just in a different style.

I never hear anyone say, “When did you fall in love with SARA?”

I never hear many people call her by her name. They degrade her while some self proclaimed Hip Hop Purists say they want to take the state of Hip Hop back, like the hyperbolic rhetoric of the Tea Party. You hear people call her Mumble Rap as if this word is equivalent to being a THOT, a slut, a bitch, or a nigger. SARA becomes conflated to cheesy dances, ‘ignant’ ebonics, and materialistic endeavors. If that’s the case, SARA is just like the eldest sister we know as HER… if we let others tell it. I don’t have the time to discuss everything about SARA in this story, but there is more to SARA. SARA is more complex than the media soundbytes that many use to describe the state of the Southern Hip Hop culture. For me, I was ashamed to connect with SARA in fear that it meant I didn’t know the fulness of Hip Hop. Before reading Jeff Chang’s Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop, Dr. Tricia Rose’s Black Noise, or Bakari Kitwana’s The Hip Hop Generation, I knew a book could never communicate not only my love for Hip Hop, but the culture in full.

So Who Are You?

I’m just a guy from the South, Nashville specifically… but I fell in love with HER in Murfreesboro, TN. I moved there when I was 12 or 13 years old. Did I listen to Hip Hop before 12? Absolutely! Though it had not infected me with the love bug until that moment. My first recollection of meeting HER was when my best friend Nate, Kenny to some, came over with an LL Cool J tape. It wasn’t the young firey LL, but a more mature and smooth LL who rapped with the R&B group Total. Nate had the cassette and we went to my room. We shut the door and locked it so my two younger brothers wouldn’t bother us. We grabbed two notebooks and played the cassette of Loungin’ (The Remix). We hit the play button to hear a bar or two and then pressed stop on my boombox. We would read the lyrics out loud to the music, then stop the tape again. We did this until we got the whole song and had it memorized. I don’t know why I loved that song. It might have just been the fact that at the time, I wasn’t allowed to listen to any music with a Parental Advisory label. My pastor father wasn’t ready to let me hear such content at a young age. I know that many of you would say that wasn’t even the LL that should have ushered me into Hip Hop. You might say, I should have listened to Radio and BAD. I did get there once hooked to Hip Hop, but for the time, it started from Mr. Smith. From there I would go on to the single, “Doin’ It”. To hear, “I represent Queens/ she was raised out of Brooklyn,” had me interested in the New York lifestyle. The beat had me mesmerized and to hear the sexy voice from the lady on that song was way too much for a pre-teen unable to control his erection. I became addicted. Anytime I could her a song that pushed me into the forbidden world of Hip Hop and away from church, was a place I was scared but still eager to follow. So what does this have to do with SARA? Let me continue…

Continuing…

I remember watching Tigga on BET. I loved watching artist come through and freestyle in the Basement. But more importantly, I loved watching new music videos. It’s there that I heard the song, “1nce Again” by A Tribe Called Quest. I don’t know what it was about the video and the song, but Phife and Q-Tip had me feenin’ for more of HER. When I wasn’t watching music videos, I was outside where my father bought us a goal to play basketball outside. The local neighborhood star, Chris Gresham, came over when he saw us shooting around. At first, Chris and I didn’t get along, but both our families were from Cleveland, OH and we built a connection from there. While he was shooting the ball, he kept saying this phrase about “Sippin’ on ‘morretta”. I finally asked him what he was saying. He said it’s from Camp Lo’s “Luchini”. The moment I heard that song with the Cooley High vibe, saw the robbery scene,and tried to understand their slang, Nate, Chris, and I were always discussing Camp Lo. I couldn’t describe a moment without being reminded about how the music amplified my memories. Chris introduced me to “Suicidal Thoughts,” by Biggie. It was the most awakening song to me up to that point. Biggie described so vividly the issue of mentally suffering from worrying to where I could hear the fear inside of me once he shot himself and dropped to the ground. Beyond that, he explained so many of the thoughts I wondered about good & evil, life & death, God & Devil, and Hell & Heaven. Then, Nate introduced me to his favorite rapper in the world. 2pac. In many ways, Pac was the first rapper I understood clearly. But one day, Nate and I were play-fighting in my room when we both stopped to hear Tabitha Soren give us those words that 2pac died. It bothered me so much that I dreamed about the event that night. It was official, Hip Hop had me sprung.

BUT WHAT ABOUT SARA?

Oh, yea! My bad.

Then, Chris tried to tell me about this girl round the way named, SARA. He let me borrow the I’m Bout It Soundtrack from No Limit Records. I didn’t get the album at all. That’s when I first met SARA. I never had a reason to know HER’s younger sibling. SARA lived in my neighborhood, but she never came to my house. SARA danced to a different drum. She had a different walk. She dressed in a style foreign to me. And at that moment, SARA was a plain Jane, but her older sister, I crushed on HER hard. Yea, SARA and I were from the same area, but I didn’t get her. I couldn’t relate to SARA. I saw her play around the streets, but until Chris brought her over through that soundtrack CD, I never invited SARA over the house. SARA asked me how I went this long without knowing her. I mean she had at a point. Sure, my mother was from Lebanon, TN, a small country town, but I related to mostly everything my father liked. I never heard my parents talk about SARA or her family. My pastor father, He listened to New Jack Swing R&B, Michael Jackson, Michael Bolton, Boney James, Herbie Hancock, maybe even MC Hammer. Of course, he played gospel like John P. Kee and Kirk Franklin and the Family. Nothing about SARA or her people ever came up. To me, the I’m Bout It Soundtrack was grimy and sounded low budget. “Meal Ticket” was nothing I knew about or wanted to explore, (Back then I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. I enjoy that album now). The sound just wasn’t me. At that time, I wasn’t really into subwoofer bass or anything that SARA listened to on a daily basis. Nate was from Cali. Chris was from Cleveland, even though he liked SARA. We all just happened to move to Murfreesboro around the same time. So even though I was from Nashville and never lived outside of the South, I didn’t get SARA or her culture. The next time I saw Chris, I told him my initial thoughts of SARA, “The album was too hard for me.” Chris laughed his ass off. He could imagine why my “wet behind the ears” ass would think the album was too hard for me. He started saying that if that album was too hard for me, then I would never understand other aspects of SARA. He mentioned other things she did, but I don’t remember them. All I knew was I didn’t want to be connected to anything from SARA. I pushed her away.

But Why?

I pushed her away because the difference from SARA and I being from the South, I felt ashamed of me. Anytime I would visit Cleveland, it was always something about Southern folks being Country and slow. In middle school, they made fun of my voice that had a country drawl. This was from adults and not just kids. Anytime I heard anyone from outside the South talk about the South, it was another reason to lie and say I was from Cleveland, not the South. SARA never felt ashamed of her past. I trained myself to lose my drawl as much as possible and as soon as possible. SARA celebrated her voice regardless of who listened or who didn’t listen. I might have pushed her away, but I still would eaves drop. My pride wouldn’t let me acknowledge her. See, to listen to SARA was just another way to feel I was being held back from being civilized into the real Hip Hop world of the older sister, HER.

What Music Did You Have With You?

I made sure I brought my CD case everywhere I went. I made sure to only have classics albums, or better yet, gorgeous pictures of HER. I only showed the sexy pictures of HER like, The Chronic, Doggy Style, Ready to Die, Me Against the World, Reasonable Doubt, Illmatic, and so many others. I just never showed off any of SARA’s pictures… at first. People needed to know that I knew HER, even if I was from the South. I would turn my nose up to SARA. I would say things like, “I only listen to SARA when I want to dance on a girl.” That was until I heard the Hot Boyz’s Get It How You Live album. The beats by Mannie Fresh, the lyrics of BG, Juvenile, and Turk were flashy with street tales. It was music that had me looking for a chain with a money sign and putting big cubic zirconia diamonds in my ear lobes. But what made me such a fan of SARA? It was this kid that was around my age they called Lil’ Wayne.

Block Burners, Demonic Symbols, & Sexual Immaturity

Lil’ Wayne wasn’t a kid rapper with kid lyrics. He was a kid, my age, who didn’t have cheesy raps, but potent lyrical content that was better than alot of rappers in the game. He had a song called, “Block Burner”. It was the only song I played for a long time. Ca$h Money Records changed the way I looked at SARA. I noticed she wasn’t as weird as I thought. I started wearing Reebok classics, baggy white tees and Gibaud (or black BOSS) jeans. Then, for a highschool kid who was the son of a preacher man, I heard about this group out of Memphis called, Triple 6 Mafia. At first, I was afraid to listen to their music. I didn't want God to strike me down for listening to anything with the number 666. Then, I watched some interview where their name was Three 6 Mafia, because they started with 3 then moved to 6 people. I felt a little better and started listening to all their music. The song I first heard was, “Tear the Club Up”. That song made me want to just pick something that you need to handle with care up, and break it on a wall. Then, as a teenager going through puberty, I was sex crazy. Because I was a virgin, I heard a song that vividly pushed my creative imagination. That’s when SARA started to look sexy to me. The song that made me a Three 6 follower, started with the lyrics that said, “Slob on my knob/Like corn on a cob/ Check in with me/ And do your job”. Then, the beat hit! Memphis niggas would juke or buck to the song. I lost my mind and SARA was the reason! Three 6 was from my state! Then, it occurred to me, the song didn’t necessarily have stellar lyrics, but I could relate to the words. I was a sex-driven teenager that wanted to have fun and hang with my friends. Why be ashamed of what made me, me? I started knocking on the door of SARA and asking her if she could come out play. And then SARA revealed the fullness of herself to me…

That’s where Outkast entered my life.

The Aquarius & the Gemini

To hear that 808 beat from Organized Noise with the keyboards and hear 3 Stacks say,

“One for the money yes sir/ Two for the show/ A couple years ago from Headleth and Delotte/ (It was actually Headland and Delow, but I always messed up lyrics. Still do…) Was the start of something good/ When me and my nigga rode the MARTA through the hood…”

Yes, it was something good. SARA introduced me to Outkast, and especially Andre 3000. SARA showed me through this group that it’s okay to be different. They didn’t have to fit a type of mode to be from the South, neither did SARA. They still knew how to mix their intelligence in a Southern slang and persona that made you feel proud to be from the South and not replicate the East Coast. Don’t get me wrong, I love the East & the West, but I’m from the 3rd Coast. I’m fro the Dirty, Dirty. I’m from the South. Outkast became the way of me being okay for not fitting into the myopic typecast of what it means to be a black, Southern male in America. Just be yourself. SARA kissed me on my lips and went home. She left me in a daze, only wanting to know why I took so long to want to be around her?

The Prototype?

SARA was herself alright. She was more Blues than Jazz. More Throaty than Nasally. More Soulful than Preachy. More about actions than about words. SARA was always more than what meets the eye. She was simple yet profound. Her sounds and words were always about being more about touching your soul than just being word candy.

Was that always my problem with SARA? I thought she was the soundtrack of not even the underdog, but the ugly duckling? SARA nor myself would fit the standard of the Duck, because we were suppose to fly lead with the Swans. SARA wasn’t only to be about metaphors and punchlines that played to an old classic Hip Hop Tune. She broke the mold to bounce to a new beat, create a new slang, and activate a new generation of those who felt left out of the loop based on their lower location. SARA was underestimated and misunderstood. She’s was looked at as being below East Coast lyricism. She is pushed to the side from the melodic sounds of the West. She’s talked down to by the machine gun speed of the words from Chicago and Cleveland. SARA talked and walked slow, but she is no ones dummy or feels the need to hurry up for anyone. SARA might talk with a different dialect that is hard to understand from others, but it doesn’t make SARA an idiot because you can’t catch her slang. SARA should make those feel embarrassed for not listening long enough to understand. If SARA can use the same English words as HER and the Wild Wild West and you can’t comprehend, who is really at fault? SARA demands respect. SARA demands respect like her sons the Underground Kings and the Geto Boys. Especially respecting Geto Boy’s Scarface that told you, “He never saw a man cry, until he saw a man die”. SARA demands respect like her daughters Trina, and Gangsta Boo asking, “Where dem dollars at?” SARA makes sure that you definetly know the biggest of them all, Momma Mia known to many as Mia X.

Until the Next Episode…

These were just some of the names mentioned around the cafeteria table as we used mechanical pencils and the ball of our fist to make a boom, tap, and tick to freestyles.

I don’t used to love HER. I still love HER, but SARA let me be free in creating a world in the South that allowed me to color outside the lines. This was just the START of a beautiful relationship where our story is not at an end and will continue to be told.

So who is SARA? Southern American Rap Actually…