The Curious Shared Politics of ‘90s Rap and Modern Post-Punk

Image Courtesy: Rolling Stone

In light of the Grammy's last week, we are often made to think about music in well-defined, mutually exclusive categories. While this way of categorizing is useful for award purposes, I think it prevents listeners from drawing connections between songs or artists in different genres. Some connections are definitely a stretch – I’m not going to convince you that Kendrick Lamar and Taylor Swift have a lot in common – but investigating cross-genre comparisons can lead to some curious insights. 

All music, regardless of genre, shares the quality of being produced by human beings with human experiences (boom, there’s the connection. Article over). Although blatantly obvious, the shared experience of being human gives music its content, relatability, and ingenuity. Every song is a sonic screenshot of an artist’s life and their relationship to their own experiences, regardless of genre. Much of human experience is informed by the political structures and systems that influence day-to-day life. So, music, as an expression of an artist’s experiences, is inherently political by virtue of being created within political systems and power structures. 

Some genres are much more explicit in their use of music as a political tool. In particular, rap and punk are very blatant in their hate and distrust of the proverbial “Man.” Broadly, the two genres are the expressions of disenfranchised or minority groups. Rap exists as an outlet for the racially oppressed Black community, and punk is largely associated with anti-establishment ideology. In terms of form, rap and punk couldn’t be more different, but their content is much more similar than many people would expect. 

Image Courtesy: NPR

Gang Starr’s 1998 album Moment of Truth is praised for its incredible songwriting and timeless message. Although the majority of the record’s tracks have political meanings, “Robbin’ Hood Theory” stands out to me with DJ Premier’s hypnotic instrumental and Guru’s powerful lyrics. There is a long tradition in minority literature and poetry of using the master’s tools to dismantle the master’s house – in other words, minority artists will take a subject, theme, or concept that has been weaponized against them and turn it against their oppressors. “Robbin’ Hood Theory” excels at this idea. The title alone plays on the Robin Hood tale of a heroic outlaw  who steals from the rich and gives back to the poor. “Robbin’ Hood,” of course, make reference to the racialized stereotype of crime in Black communities. Before even listening to the song, Gang Starr inverts this stereotype and directs it towards those who subjugate Black communities. Guru pens, “If I wasn’t kickin rhymes I’d be kickin’ down doors / Creating social change and defending the poor / The God’s always been militant, and ready for war.” Guru inverts the notion of crime as a negative and instead promotes is it a force of social change. “If I wasn’t kicking rhymes I’d be kickin’ down doors” implies that Guru, as a Black artist, is participating in the same struggle against the political, social, and economic forces that hurt his community. Even “The God’s always been militant, and ready for war” works as a declaration of the Black spiritual identity, a denied idea through much of America’s history. Of course, Guru is aware of his role within the Black struggle: “So I take this opportunity, yes to ruin the / Devilish forces fucking up my Black community … We taking over radio, and wack media / Cause systematically they gettin greedier and greedier / Conquering turfs with my ill organization / Takin out the man while we scan the information.” Again, Guru takes ownership of Black gang stereotypes and turns them towards “the man.” Guru is a prime example of how Black artistry exists as a force to conquer areas that have historically disenfranchised the Black community, here “radio” and “media.” The inversion of Black stereotypes in “Robin’ Hood Theory” is provocative – as it should be. Guru’s lyrical political work speaks volumes to the importance of music in empowering marginalized communities. 

Image Courtesy: The Guardian

Although more subject to social forces rather than political or economic, punk and post-punk have historically been the genre of the outcast, loser, or token scumbag. British post-punk band IDLES embraces this fact, and they were recognized with two Grammy nominations in 2023 for Best Rock Performance and Best Rock Album. The lyrics on their 2018 hit “I’m Scum” off Joy as an Act of Resistance do much of the same inversion as an empowering force as “Robin’ Hood Theory.” Again, the title reclaims something that has been used against the socially stigmatized outcast/punk community. “I’m Scum” takes ownership of the negative title and makes it lose all its disenfranchising power. IDLES, and punk as a genre, is a little more explicit with their political views than Gang Starr. For instance, IDLES frontman Joe Talbot sings “I’m lefty, I’m soft / I’m minimum wage job … This snowflake’s an avalanche.” Talbot rejoices in the negative connotations that critics apply to the liberal, punk rock “loser” archetype. Talbot and IDLES are proud to be what some would consider “soft” or “snowflakes,” and their pride itself is, as the album title already points out, an act of resistance. Along with de-weaponizing terms and stereotypes used to put the community down, “I’m Scum” launches its own attacks at traditional, more conservative values. For example, Talbot asserts “I don’t care about the next James Bond / He kills for country, Queen, and God / We don’t need another murderous toff.” If high society wants to criticize the punk rock community and their ideals, lowlifes and IDLES won’t hesitate to criticize a toff’s idols right back. 

Although punk and rap couldn’t be more different sonically, they both use the master’s tools to de-weaponize and criticize the “Man” while empowering their communities. Almost 30 years apart, IDLES and Gang Starr’s work carry surprising parallels with the respective political work within their music. I think it’s both fruitful and important to connect not-so-commonly compared music via the very human and natural mechanisms they share. 

Strike Out, 

Shane Stanton