A Gutter Culture

Outside of coarsening the culture further and celebrating the most negative of black stereotypes, rap -- "Drive-by music," as I call it -- adds nothing to Americana. The one benefit, I guess, is that it keeps potential criminals engaged in activities other than crime -- but then again, maybe not. The list of rappers who have run afoul of the law is a long one. In decades past, singers and musicians paid their dues by honing their talent in any venue that would allow them to play, often for little or no money. The road to rap stardom appears to be selling dope, getting shot and belonging to the Crips or Bloods. Take 50 Cent -- please -- for example. Curtis Jackson's path to mega-stardom included selling cocaine and getting shot nine times, something which gives him "street cred," a much valued commodity in the thug...er...I mean...hip-hop community.

One of the sadder aspects of rap's ascension has been the demise of "real" black music, one of the greatest things Black Americans have given the world. Black music -- "soul" or "R-n-B" -- has provided the entire world with some of the most talented people and greatest songs in the history of recorded music.

Rap has given us a soundtrack for prison.

I came of age in the 1970s, the "golden age" of black music. I loved the sounds of Earth, Wind and Fire, The Commodores, Al Green, Marvin Gaye and far too many others to list. This sort of music and these sort of stars are no more, replaced by the drive-by shooters in rap.

Sad.

At one time, American black music meant this --