For Myself & Others: Does Kanye Deserve a Grammy?
By Bomani Jones, AOL BlackVoices columnist
It seems that all that talking has gotten Kanye West in trouble.
West, the incredibly talented but painfully insecure rapper/producer, has come under fire since it has become clear that at least one verse in 'Jesus Walks' was written -- and originally recorded and performed -- by Rhymefest, an emcee from Indianapolis. West never tried to conceal that Rhymefest had a hand in writing the song; after all, he receives co-writing credit. As a result, a group called the Mind Set Army has asked that West's 10 Grammy nominations be rescinded because of how the employment of a ghostwriter contradicts his documented bravado.
I'd be tempted to roll with the Army if the Grammys were something intended to respect hip-hop in its essence, but those gold phonographs aren't made for scratching. The Grammys are industry awards, honors that are often given to artists because of record company politics and are frequently voted upon by folks that don't understand the first thing about the records they vote for. A group with the Army's agenda should ask why rappers show up at the Grammys at all instead of asking that nominations be pulled.
West's use of a ghostwriter is interesting, though, because 'Jesus Walks' has been nominated for Song of the Year, the Grammys' biggest honor for songwriters. How interesting is it that the second hip-hop song to receive that coveted nomination (Eminem's 'Lose Yourself' was the first) may have been ghostwritten? It's a bit strange, but it falls in line with what's been going on for years in that category. Most genres don't think twice about performers doing songs they did not write. Rap is one of the few genres whose fans absolutely expect that its artists write their own material. Much of the swagger emcees exhibit comes from confidence in their abilities with a pen. Praising a ghostwritten record is like giving props to Muzak.
But the Grammys aren't about hip-hop or anything else cultural. The Grammys are about big business, and anyone who thinks its increased acceptance of hip-hop contradicts that is holding on to antiquated idealism. The Grammys annually serve as proof that hip-hop isn't the countercultural phenomenon it once was. This isn't to imply that the potential for revolutionary material is gone, but it's hard to consider anything as widely accepted as rap has become as a party crasher. When the Grammys first acknowledged rap music in 1989, the National Academy of Record Arts & Sciences' erroneously crowned DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince's 'Parents Just Don't Understand' as the rap performance of the year. While they got it way wrong -- Eric B. and Rakim were among the shortchanged nominees that year -- that faux pas maintained rap's standing as something outside of the box. Rap was so far out of the box that voters couldn't even figure out what was good and what wasn't.
That a ghostwritten hip-hop song has received a Song of the Year nomination simply shows how deep in the box hip-hop is, and lately the Grammys have been getting it right. They're a bit too quick to hand whatever rap awards they can to Eminem, but they no longer embarrass themselves with their winners (case in point being last year, when OutKast's 'Speakerboxxx/The Love Below' deservedly won Album of the Year). That illustrates the same point, though -- the days of rappers serving as flies in proverbial punchbowls are gone. Both artistically and financially, rap is right at home in the mainstream. While more nominations in recent years have shown how rap music has become accepted, the types of nominations rappers receive indicate just how similar rap is to everything else. Rap has become more and more like the rest of the game, so much so that the once-frowned upon sin of spitting someone else's verses could make Kanye West the biggest star of the evening. Even if Kanye walks away empty-handed (which is entirely possible), his Song of the Year nomination has made that crystal clear.
Feb. 9, 2005