The Lost Cause

Can Philly's fractured hip-hop scene get its acts together? Should it?

by Deesha Dyer

THE DEADLIEST CATCH 22: "Philly suffers from a severe case of the crabs-in-a-barrel syndrome � meaning that once one crab gets to the top of the barrel, there's 10 below it pulling it down," says Cosmo Baker. : DJ. Mel (CLICK IMAGE FOR LARGER VERSION)

The music game loves its genres and subgenres, but lately it seems like Philly's independent and underground hip-hop does a lot more dividing than conquering. The divisions aren't new, but in recent years there has been an explosion of international popularity of particular subscenes that have elevated the hostility, competition and jealousy between them all.

First, let's identify the primary subspecies:

There's the live bands (like Philly Slick, Burndown Allstars, Subliminal Orphans).

The underground crews (Reef The Lost Cauze, Hezekiah, Last Emperor).

The hipsters (Spankrock, Amanda Blank, Plastic Little, Diplo).

And the DVD cats (Joey Jihad, Reed Dollarz).

There's plenty of crossover when it comes to audience, image and sound, but in a sense, the battle lines have been drawn. Which, of course, has contributed to the tiresome argument of what constitutes real hip-hop and whether certain artists have earned the right or privilege to represent the city with their interpretation and style.

The issue has blown up on local message boards like 215hiphop.com and board.low-bee.com (run by DJ Low Budget), with grown men throwing insults back and forth. The rise of artists like Spankrock and Amanda Blank, who both catapulted out of the Hollertronix "hipster" realm, specifically incited much discussion. There were those who argued that some of these artists aren't a true representation of Philly hip-hop since they really didn't pay dues here, while others gave props, saying their refreshing sound revived a once notorious scene that had since grown cold.

While very comical, the web threads had a lot of truth hidden in the long-ass opinionated posts. Truths that are best revealed by hip-hop heads who have either left the city, keep one foot outside the city or are still fighting to be heard beyond city lines. The one thing they all have in common is that they recognize the negative mentality that plagues the culture in the city, and the majority don't seem to think Philly will shed the funk that lingers over the independent and underground movement.

DJ Cosmo Baker, known best for his now-defunct Remedy parties with Rich Medina, quickly agrees that Philly's scene has issues. "Philly suffers from a severe case of the crabs-in-a-barrel syndrome — meaning that once one crab gets to the top of the barrel, there's 10 below it pulling it down," says Baker. "Once someone starts to get a little shine, others get jealous, and of course there aren't that many resources and that much attention being shown to Philly in general, so it's everyone fighting for scraps."

National publications have been catching heat from some artists who believe the media often latches onto the new (but not necessarily the talented).

"They are all on the same page. If you have one publication behind something, then all the others fall in line," says veteran MC Reef the Lost Cauze. "Right now, I don't think my type of hip-hop is respected because it is something that isn't relevant to the people in the press. I'm not against any type of hip-hop, but we are in a city where murder is rampant and the type of music representing us is about drugs and shaking your ass."

DJ Low Budget, aka Low Bee, partially co-signs, saying that the hipster movement — the raunchy, fun indie rap (some call it vulgar) and its genre-shuffling, free-for-all parties — is news because it's new. "Press is a huge influence on everything," he says. "Whether or not people like it — it is still something they should know about because it wasn't happening five years ago."

That is easy for Low Bee to say, considering the majority of the new-wave rap hipster scene was birthed from Hollertronix, the party he and DJ Diplo co-founded. It is also no coincidence that both DJs are now basking in media attention and the corresponding success, with Low Bee touring as M.I.A.'s DJ, and Diplo being sought out worldwide for remixes and festival dates. Low Bee also laughs, saying, "Philly is a great place to come up in because people don't care about any kind of status. You have to be good and if not — you'll hear about it."

Not everyone looks at Philly's scene segregation as a bad thing, saying variety and competition within hip-hop keep it vital. Some say focus and attention on one scene will bring attention to the city in general. Besides, a hippie-ish kumbaya attitude would be fake and bland.

Noesis, frontman for live hip-hop band Philadelphia Slick, sees things a bit differently. "I think it would benefit all scenes to collaborate. We would actually love to do some things with other artists, but the time and opportunity hasn't come up yet. It is a possibility and also a risk."

Baker is on the fence about the idea. "Personally I've always thought that people should try to get together and work as a larger citywide community but the environment in Philly is a little strange. The strength is in numbers but I think that, in getting together, people are a little too scared of compromise and change."

Meanwhile, Reef calls it a respect thing and he wouldn't rule out the chance. That said, he also wouldn't join up with his peers to present some kind of united front that isn't really there.

At the heart of it, there's one main question: Who has the authority to define what hip-hop is, or what it should sound or look like?

The artists who appear on the DVDs that float around the Broad Street line and Market Frankford El declare that if you can't hold your own in a freestyle battle, then you can't call yourself a true hip-hop MC.

Opinions, they say, are like assholes. Everybody's got one.

"As far as hip-hop heads, they have a style they like that they consider to be hip-hop and if the other styles don't fit in, then they are not seen as valid," says Low Bee. "If people like you — then they like you."

DJ Statik of Illvibe Collective adds that some of it is also jealousy and people not being included in whatever the artist is doing, using his association with producer showcase Beat Society as an example. "People would get upset if they weren't on the show and hate the event simply because they weren't involved with it."

There are two shows coming up that illustrate the divided state of Philly's hip-hop union. One is Bonde do Role and Plastic Little appearing at Johnny Brendas, and the other is the Living Legends show with "true school" DJ Scratch (of EPMD), DJ Ultraviolet and Reef the Lost Cauze. Both shows are from opposite sides of the local scene. At the former, you might find MCs using humor and vulgarity to get the people moving. At the latter, you'll hear classic hip-hop with a house-party vibe to work the crowd.

Both shows have the same goal: the want and need to create a good-ass time.

Realistically, the city's hip-hop scene will never be totally unified — and thank God for that, but one has to wonder if the tension between and within the scenes is holding Philly back from larger recognition, outside its borders. We are a city with its own strong hip-hop sound — but is our divided scene its own worst enemy?

Reef smiles and says, "We get what we deserve in time. What I do may never get the type of exposure other local subscenes do, but if what I do gets out to the people that need to hear it — I have to be satisfied with that."

(d_dyer@citypaper.net)

Bonde do Role, Plastic Little, Gang, Pink Skull, Thu., Sept. 13, 9 p.m., $10, 21+, Johnny Brenda's, 1201 Frankford Ave., 866-468-7619, www.r5productions.com. DJ Scratch, DJ Ultraviolet, Reef the Lost Cauze, Fri., Sept. 14, 10 p.m., $5-$10, 21+, Fluid Nightclub, 613 S. Fourth St., the79group@hotmail.com.