For as long as music has been around, so has that phantom place beyond the crossroads, the point where life ends and the end begins. From the pre-European-encounter mbira music of Zimbabwe, which communicates with the ancestors, to Mozart’s Requiem, to Blind Willie Johnson’s utterly haunting “Dark Was the Night, Cold Was the Ground,” to the gothic movement that emerged in the late ’70s in the UK, human mortality and the great unknown called death have inspired an extraordinary range of artistic interpretations. The emergence of hip-hop, however, introduced new dimensions to this relationship, shaped by the culture’s origins, social context, and lived experiences.
Hip-hop’s birth occurred in and around urban communities shaped by socially imposed poverty, violence, and gun culture, and this dire situation, which is still with us today, resulted in a relationship between music and death that’s unique.
Hip-hop’s efforts to process grief, loss, vulnerability, and fear have often collided with the bravado, emotional restraint, and composure under pressure long associated with the culture. How does a culture that prizes strength and resilience make room for mourning? In raps that express a grief that’s profound and deeply personal. This grief is what we explore in our show, See You at the Crossroads: Death & Hip-Hop, on Thursday, October 29, at Black & Tan Hall. It was inspired by Tish Gallow, a central figure of Columbia City’s cultural life (she promotes musical South Seattle events and heads the popular Columbia City Beatwalk). This summer, she began planning an event devoted to fallen hip-hop stars, such as Phife Dawg, Biz Markie, and MCA. It’s called Tribute to Fallen Hiphop Soldiers and will happen November 20 at Columbia City Theater. As Tish celebrates fallen rappers, we reflect on the golden-era rap tracks about the grief experienced when those close to you are “dead and gone.”
That said, violence in hip-hop is as real as a heart attack. A number of famous rappers were brought down by bullets: Scott La Rock, Mac Dre, Tupac Shakur, the Notorious B.I.G., XXXTentacion, and Jam Master Jay, to name a few. But that’s not the whole story. Hip-hop is not desensitized. It can plumb the emotional depths when it comes to loss. This show is about that feeling. Let’s get down to it.
“Dead Homiez” by Ice Cube (1990)
Prior to his departure from NWA, many viewed Ice Cube as the group’s lyrical consciousness. This song, from his first solo project, the EP Kill at Will, frames the discussion of friends dying within the dynamics of gangs and the drug trade. It also provides a window into the trauma associated with these events—“still hear the screams from his mother, while my n*gga lay dead in the gutter.”
“So Many Tears” by Tupac (1995)
Though some consider Tupac one of the great lyricists of all time, others view him as the most emotive MC hip-hop has seen. On that score, “So Many Tears” is a prime example. Children dying, tears shed, friends gone, and questions of salvation, or whether he is even worthy, frame the delivery.
“Poor Georgie” by MC Lyte (1991)
This track will break your heart. It’s about a man who MC Lyte has a thing for because, to be honest, he’s fine. But he also has lots of personal problems, one of which is heavy drinking (particularly vodka). One night, he has had way too much, gets into his car, and takes his last ride (he hits a truck). The track is powerful because MC Lyte is not really judgmental. She just wishes she could have done more to help the troubled guy. The moral of her story? If you have demons, you have to face them, or they will conquer you. Poor Georgie.
“I Seen a Man Die” by Scarface (1994)
In the aftermath of Geto Boys’ “Mind Playing Tricks on Me,” one of the rawest examinations of the mental toll the streets take is Scarface’s tale of a recently released ex-con who falls back into the crime life. After the man is shot during a robbery, Scarface hovers over the hospital bed while delivering chilling details of his final moments.
“Peaceful Journey” by Heavy D & the Boyz (1991)/“They Reminisce Over You (T.R.O.Y.)” by Pete Rock & CL Smooth (1992)
Two songs memorializing Troy Dixon, aka Trouble T Roy, a dancer for Heavy D who died in an accident in 1990. Though not exclusively about Dixon, the hypnotic, haunting sax loop in “T.R.O.Y.” leaves a lasting feeling of mystical spiritualism.
“Cappucino” by MC Lyte (1989)
The coffee craze of the 1980s did not miss hip-hop. MC Lyte’s drift between life and death after being shot mirrors her before-and-after experience of drinking cappuccino. This also brings the question of whether men and women in hip-hop experience death and grief differently. (Listen to “Poor Georgie.”)
“Murder Was the Case” by Snoop Doggy Dogg (1994)
This song was also the title track to a short film of the same name. In it, Snoop is shot and killed, only to experience a supernatural resurrection after agreeing to sell his soul.
“Walkin’ 2 My Funeral” by Brotha Lynch Hung (1993)
In the early ’90s, Brotha Lynch Hung established himself as an architect of what could be termed “West Coast Horrorcore.” However, in this song, the self-described “baby killin’ atheist” introduced samples from an upbeat-sounding, melodic track (“Remind Me” by Patrice Rushen) to accompany tales of his death by police, at a dice game, and in a robbery. This idea of “Walkin’ 2 My Funeral” seems to parallel, at least conceptually, the scene from Mark Twain’s novel The Adventures of Tom Sawyer where Tom, Huck Finn, and Joe Harper crash their own memorial service.
“Grand Groove” by Intelligent Hoodlum (1993)
This is really one of the most beautiful hip-hop tracks about “living and dying,” about “losing those who are close to you.” Intelligent Hoodlum’s impeccable boom-bap flow goes deeper and deeper into an emotional space that grieves the loss of a friend who was very close to him, who was there when he needed him, who he completely trusted: “No snakes in the grass when you are near.” He misses Grand Groove to this day. He loves him to this day. And as long as he is alive, Groove will “live on and on.”
“Tha Crossroads” by Bone Thugs-N-Harmony (1995)
In 2008, the Hip Hop Reader defined the crossroads as: “The juncture of the spiritual realm and the phenomenal world. The points of literal intersection are where one might go to offer sacrifice or prayer to ancestors. The crossroads also function as a powerful symbol in African American folklore. Legends tell of Black musicians going to crossroads and trading their guitars with spirits to confirm or enhance their talents.”
Bone Thugs’ harmonic rendering of this concept again conjures a serene, spiritual feeling that underscores the topic, and the point is driven home by the Angel of Death character featured in the video.
See You at the Crossroads: Death & Hip-Hop with Charles Mudede, Daude Abe, and DJ Vitamin D is Thurs Oct 29 at Black & Tan Hall. Get tickets here.
