There was something unifying about the sweaty bodies sticking together, jumping up and down. The spiky elbows continuously probing me in the back and the entire crowd screaming lyrics into the sky. Out of the multitude of people in the small auditorium, no one minded the closeness. It was a blissful discomfort. Everyone was fully immersed in the music that related to them.
I was at a Chance The Rapper concert. It was hot and sticky. Loud and uncomfortable. But it was the best moment of my life.
Usually, when thinking of music that brings people together, what comes to mind is an annoyingly catchy pop song, or people holding hands around a campfire singing “Kumbaya.” However, rap music has the same kind of unifying quality about it, if not even more so because it articulates the reality of life for so many people.
“Rap music is a reflection of people’s lives, most artists talk about the situations they are in or been through rather its violence or bad behavior,” Columbia-based rapper Mu$iLiN said in an email. “Rap music does not promote anything outside of what other music genres promote; we can say the same thing about R&B promoting sex or rock ‘n’ roll promoting violence and death. We can’t categorize one without categorizing the others.”
Mu$iLiN, who was originally born in Rwanda, uses rap music as a “stress reliever” and an outlet to express his culture.
“I would say, there has never been an artist like me in the game,” Mu$iLiN wrote in the email. “Being born in the genocide of Rwanda and having to move to America, I’ve faced many obstacles, I have a lot to talk about and a story to tell.”
Rap music, particularly mixtapes, allow artists to project their personalities and cultures fully into their music, reminiscent of the pre-trap-music era of hip-hop that gave young black people a voice.
“My inspiration comes mostly from Tupac,” Mu$iLiN said. “He is the reason why I express myself through music. Then later Lil Wayne because of his creative approach. Both were true pioneers.”
In Mu$iLiN’s early single “How to Live,” you can clearly hear influences of Tupac and Lil Wayne, who he said inspired him to “make music from the heart.” The lyrics are gritty, hard and violent. The beat is animated, resolute and stark. The lyrics reference guns and drugs, but, most importantly, reality.
In another single, “Hard in the Game,” Mu$iLiN still raps about the situational violence and hustle mindset, but interwoven are lyrics about how proud he is that his uncle beat cancer, or how he is trying to help take care of his mother.
“My mother would be my biggest inspiration in life,” Mu$iLiN said. “Because of her wisdom and strength, she is truly a queen.”
In his song “Lord,” a more mellow track, he raps: “Mama look how far we made it / through the jungle and the swamps and the genocide baby.” Immediately after, he raps about how he is trying to work hard just to take care of his family, ending the verse with the lyrics “I hope you understand me,” a plea to the people who think of rap as a nonsensical call to violence, asking them to have empathy for a young man just “trying his best” to make it.
In Mu$iLiN’s favorite track, “Thank God,” he repeats the phrase “I just want to thank God for the life I live,” bringing his life narrative through rap music full circle. There is still a foreboding feeling in the gratitude when he raps about the uncertainty of making it another 22 years.
“I definitely fall in the no-genre group,” Mu$iLiN said. “I don’t try to make music off what’s popular. All of my songs come from the heart and soul. I create music best like that instead of trying to categorize my style. I want to make music that inspires people.”
Mu$iLiN’s music is best described as raw. His raps place you into his reality and takes you through his life experiences with him. And while there’s this jagged melancholy, there’s also hopefulness. In his upcoming mixtape, _FDG2_, he promises to further express those emotions.
“I want people to know how powerful as a unit we stand,” Mu$iLiN said. “I want to make music that inspires people. We already have enough odds playing against us daily.”
Music has always been a tool to verbalize different cultures and authenticate the artist’s background, but no genre has prevalently redefined or articulated the conditions of a culture and race like hip-hop. Richard Bihomora, another Columbia rapper, says musical style is no exception, and he uses influences from his Rwandan roots.
“[My best track] instrumentally, is a song I sampled from Rwanda, where I’m originally from,” Bihomora said. “I named it ‘Flower in the Sun.’ The reason I love it so much is because it is from my home country, but my parents don’t really understand what I do when I create music. They just see me on my laptop. When I showed them what I did with the song they grew up on, they were blown away, and I think that was the point they started to understand what I was really doing.”
Bihomora has a versatile take on music, using the influence of several artists of numerous genres to create a nuanced and eclectic sound, but there is also an artistic aspect using rap as an art form and an expression of pride.
“[I make music] because we live in a lonely world,” Bihomora said. “Everyone in the world are prisoners in their own mind, and music is my escape to express myself to the world.”
Bihomora states “individualism” as the key to being successful in the rap industry and hopes the rap continues to evolve. When he talks about his music, you can tell how passionate and particular he is with his sound. The only reason his mixtape isn’t out yet is because he wants to make his music “solid” and something he can be proud of.
“I think the biggest pitch for me would be my music and letting it speak for itself,” Bihomora said. “If I make music worth listening to, then I won’t have to be knocking on every record company’s door, but they would be coming to me.”
Rap music is just as artistic as people say other genres of music are. Rap is about reality, honesty and intensity. Bihomora is an artist directly fighting against the negative stigma of rap music as being artless.
“I’m just a brush creating the art, but I don’t know what the art is until it’s finished,” Bihomora said.
Rap music is a reflection of reality, a form of art and a fun and unifying genre of music. Jonathan Mail, who goes by Yoni Uno, has the persona of your “friendly neighborhood rapper” with beats that are elastic and eclectic, lyrics that are charismatic and relatable. He uses varying voice and ad-libs to create music that is wholly original yet familiar enough to be entertaining.
“If I were to describe my sound, it would be ambient trap music that makes you feel some type of way,” Uno said. “Music that makes you listen.”
Uno’s most popular song on Soundcloud is “After Dark,” a track that applies the whimsical nature of the millennial approach to rap music but is still rooted in the origins of hip-hop with piercing bass and a mellow atmosphere. His most accomplished track, “What I’m Bout,” leans more toward the Tupac generation of rappers, specifically with Snoop Dogg’s “Nothing-but-a-g-thang” vibe — not in melody or lyrics, but in atmosphere. There’s also a sense of humor that is grounded by occasional lyrics on the harsh circumstances of struggling to become something in life with the odds stacked against you.
“You have to be yourself and have your own sound,” Uno said. “The older generation wants lyricism while the younger generation wants something fun that they can dance to, and I want to make music that is a mixture of both.”
In tracks like “After Dark” and “Runnin to the Money,” Uno references pop-culture figures like the Kardashians, uses popularized terminology like “thot” and “on fleek,” and goes in and out of characterized voices. Tracks like “What I’m Bout” feature lyrics about running from the police and having to “work on the streets to make money” to survive. This contrast in his music shows that rap, though fun and entertaining, is still a musical outlet.
When talking about the violence depicted in rap music, the conversation strayed as he began to recall how many people he knew had died due to gang violence or any other unfortunate circumstances, a conversation that too many people can tragically relate to. This foreboding uncertainty is always an underlying feeling in rap music that makes it so universal.
“Everyone thinks we live in the same America,” Uno said. “But the reality for black people and minorities America is very different. People look at rap thinking they are violent or ignorant. But they should look at it like, these people are trying to tell you where they are coming from, and try to find ways to make it so that they don’t have to rap about that stuff anymore.”
_Edited by Katie Rosso | krosso@themaneater.com_