Thanks for being with us, Dr. Hess. How would you describe your background?
Well, I grew up in Kentucky, and the first time I heard Hip-Hop was on a cub-scout camping trip. Run-DMC came on the radio, and the moment I heard it, I was like "Wow, I’ve never heard anything like this before. What is it?" I was just fascinated by it. I used to have people sneak into the Record stores, when I was too young to buy the parental advisory tapes. So, I started buying artists like N.W.A and Geto Boys.
And what impact did it have on you, as you matured through the years?
I remember that around the time of the Vanilla Ice scandal [in the early ‘90s], a lot of my friends listened to Hip-Hop, and all of a sudden, it was not only not cool to have a Vanilla Ice CD, it was also not cool as a white kid to have a Brand Nubian or a A Tribe Called Quest CD. All of a sudden, a lot of my friends who were into Hip-Hop began to distance themselves from it, a little bit. In fact, that just puzzled me.
Vanilla Ice had that much impact on Hip-Hop’s white listening audience?
Yes, you know, a lot of people just sort of dropped it. I remember a lot of my friends used to say, "Well, I still listen to some Beastie Boys." But they would never go pick up an X-Clan CD or Public Enemy CD.
When did you decide to venture into the academy?
I got my PhD from the University of Louisville in Kentucky, and I wrote my dissertation on Hip-Hop. It was written on the rhetoric of What’s Real in Hip-Hop—being true to yourself vs. being true to the community and culture that created Hip-Hop. After that, I put out a couple of articles [on Hip-Hop], and wrote my most recent book, Is Hip-Hop Dead.
At what stage did you enact your scholarly engagement with Hip-Hop?
My first year of college, I found a book called, "The News Beats," by S.H. Fernando. It was one of the first scholarly takes on Hip-Hop. And I soon as I saw it, I thought, "I’ve never really thought of Hip-Hop in this way. It seems like something a professor would write." So, from there on, I wrote a paper that compared some of the trends that took off in the early ages of country music, and the early ages of Hip-Hop music.
Do you teach Hip-Hop in the classroom?
I do. I teach a class called, "Hip-Hop and American Culture."
In all your years of wrestling with Hip-Hop culture and music, how would you compare the current landscape, to that of the ‘80s, which some have characterized as the "Golden Age?"
For me, there was always some good stuff on the radio, and always some terrible stuff on it. There was always some great stuff you had to dig for. I don’t think much has changed today.
You’ve argued that Hip-Hop’s listeners should separate the real from the industry-packaged content. In Is Hip-Hop Dead?, you touched substantively on this issue. What do you think Nas meant when he declared Hip-Hop "dead," in 2006?
I think he was trying to say that commercialism had killed off, or taken over, the culture. The culture (the spirit of Kool Herc and Afrika Bambaataa) is still there—all over the world—but I think it’s not embodied in some of the stuff you hear on the radio or see on the TV—which is more about the shine, and the glamour of the criminal lifestyle.
Why did you write Is Hip-Hop Dead?
I wrote it because people had been trying to say for a long time that Hip-Hop was dead, and it was. When Rapper’s Delight came out in the ‘70s, certain people in the Bronx were saying the same thing. When Sugar Hill Gang came out, there was this question that, "Is it [the Hip-Hop movement] over?" But, I’ve always seen Hip-Hop come back. It’s always survived. It’s always there, and I think it’s really resilient. So, I don’t think it’s dead. It’s more a question of what’s to come next.
Some speculate that the new generation of Hip-Hop artists doesn’t have the emotional stability to accept the leadership of older artists. Do you perceive a disconnect between these two generations?
Hip-Hop has been around for so long, that now, it’s more than one generation. It’s at least two; maybe three. When Baby and Slim [Cash Money Records] came out, they took their audience through the history, and made sure they really listened to the pioneers who had inspired them. Today, some of the new guys say they don’t even listen to Hip-Hop.
You wrote a book on some of these pioneers. What are you trying to pass across to curators of the culture—young and old?
With Icons of Hip-Hop, I tried to document the 30 years of Hip-Hop. I started with Kool Herc and ended with Kanye West. In between, I had artists like De La Soul, Snoop Dogg, Dr. Dre, and A Tribe Called Quest.
What effect do you think consolidation of small labels, by powerhouse Record companies, is having on the authenticity of Hip-Hop music?
Hip-Hop has always been community-based, and I think big companies have bought it [the community-orientation] off, a lot. There was a tour in ’88, with N.W.A. and De La Soul on the same bill; and I can’t see that happening today, because of the many sub-genres that have come out of it.
How would you assess Hip-Hop today?
It’s definitely global, but it’s still local. There are a lot of good groups out there, but, you know, you’re just not hearing them on the radio.
Where do you see Hip-Hop gong in decades to come. What does the future look like, from your perspective?
I think we’re going to see more global collaborations. Currently, there’s a track out, between a Houston rapper and a producer from the Netherlands.
Wow, really?
Yes. They traded rhymes and beats over instant-messenger.
That’s the future of Hip-Hop—transcontinental collaborations?
There are a few of those happening right now. People are meeting via the internet, and communicating back and forth.
Do you see artists using this avenue, as a means for broadening the political landscape of Hip-Hop?
Yes.
What advice do you have for all those interested in Hip-Hop?
That stuff on the radio and TV is just a tip of the iceberg. If you think that stands for Hip-Hop, overall, you really got some research to do?
So, we should get back to the essence?
Yeah, absolutely.
Thanks for the time, Dr. Hess.
