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Channel Wack's Top
Ten of Crap
by
Ian Waldron-Mantgani, May 31, 2001
Saturday's "Top Ten of Rap" show, the latest in
Channel Four's retrospective countdowns on musical genres, did not begin
promisingly. Ostentatious loser Puff Daddy entered the chart at #10, although
not one person interviewed had anything interesting to say about him except
that he enjoys spending money, and sampling The Police's "Every Breath You
Take" made him plenty of it.
Never mind, I thought. The guy sells a lot of
records, has just been in the news, and dated Jennifer Lopez; the show is
bound to have some big recent names in, so we can overlook that. I was not
prepared for what was to come, which was a shocking insult to a serious
artform.
Imagine if Channel Four did a "Top Ten" list about
Kings of Rock, put Bruce Springsteen somewhere in the middle, left out Bob
Dylan and Elvis Presley, and put Holly Johnson and Ricky Martin in the top
slots. Without a tad of exaggeration, the exact equivalent of that took place
on the rap list.
Public Enemy, sovereigns of the genre, whose lead
singer Chuck D made a helluva bigger impression than Louis Farrakhan on young
black males in the 1980s, came in at #5. There was no place on the list for
Run DMC, the first group to successfully mix hard hip-hop and hard rock,
or Rage Against the Machine, who took that idea and turned it into the most
important music of the 90s. NWA, the first gangster rappers, and arguably
some of the only ones with anything decent to say, were also ignored. No
sign of The Sugarhill Gang, whose mega-hit single "Rapper's Delight" showed
that there was an audience for hip-hop recordings. Even Grandmaster Flash,
premiere rap innovator and most influential DJ of all time, was missing,
though his classic song "Whitelines" played over the end
credits.
At #2, Salt N Pepa, an 80s girl-group flash-in-the-pan
present only so that males didn't steal the show. Their influence on popular
music is negligible, and besides, they were more soul than rap. And filling
the top spot?
Unbelievable.
Sickening.
Ghastly.
Will Smith.
It's hard to follow that up with a logical criticism,
because, well, where to begin?? This is a choice completely out of left field
and out of somebody's ass -- Will Smith is an egomaniacal actor whose few
crappy pop records are just cheesy remixes of Stevie Wonder tracks. They
are not rap, they are not good, and they do not have an ounce of street cred.
If anyone over the age of eleven bought them, I would be shocked. The programme
was desperate for anything to say about Smith's records (I avoid using the
term 'musical career'), so it resorted to a few clips of him making silly
faces and featured quotes like "Hey, you know, it's Will!" and "Everybody
loves him!" As for the validity of the latter comment, it came from Jazzy
Jeff, Smith's long-time friend and collaborator, so go figure.
I have not had time to get the opinion of any
music industry professionals, but for the past few days I have been talking
to people online, on the phone, in record shops, in cafés, and not
one of them has failed to be stunned by the choice. What the hell was Channel
Four thinking?
The theory has been put to me that maybe the "Top
Ten" shows rankings are based on record sales. If that is the case then their
math is dodgy at best -- how do Salt N Pepa end up seven places ahead of
MC Hammer, who has the biggest-selling rap album of all time? And how did
the Sex Pistols, who recorded only one album, end up #1 on the punk list?
And I still see no explanation for the crowning of Will Smith, when Sony,
his record company, doesn't even sell his products in the rap
category.
The "Top Ten" shows are made with a lightness
of touch and a sense of humour, but there is usually an underlying
level-headedness about them. If the producers can make serious lists for
punk, soul, electro-pop, glam rock and even boy bands, then it says something
when they choose a show about the most important artform of blacks in the
Western world as their opportunity to fuck around. Channel Four was once
a hip, left-wing, alternative station -- nowadays it sucks up to trendies
with pop junk like "Hollyoaks" and makes racist crap like this, chipping
away the last few blocks of its flailing credibility.
I am going to mail this article to Channel Four.
I wonder how quick the producers are to defend their programme. And I wonder
how confident they would feel about their chances of walking into a New York
City hip-hop club, announcing their selections, and coming out
alive.
COPYRIGHT© 2001 Ian
Waldron-Mantgani
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