hip hop journalism


Mozzy has released a new music video for “The People Plan,” a cut off his new album Fake Famous. In this new video, directed by Jae Synth, Mozzy creates a visual platform to discuss the trails and tribulations of black subjectivity in the modern age. A collage of violence, misdoings, and sensationalist media, Jae Synth tactfully pieces together a haunting cinematic slideshow of brutality, a perfect match for the mesmerizing lyricism of the jaded Sac-town rapper:

“Pull up to the grave site, woozy off an 8 of syrup/ You’ll never understand what I go through as a man/ Let my momma down when she needed a helping hand.” 

“Momma couldn’t save you from the judge, they the Klan/ Black on black crime a part of the people plan/ 40 acres and a mule mean they worked us off the land/ Let the jury hang us when the witness hit the stand.” 

This video is a clear reminded of why Mozzy is Northern California’s imminent emcee, spitting about the dirty, gritty life of the Californian streets. Far from the reductive gaze of outsiders, with our beaches, palm trees, and cool weather, California can be a killing ground. From the child prostitution of Sac-town, the human trafficking of the central valley, and the murder rate of Oakland, California has seen some shit. While its easy to package Northern California lifestyle in a nice, warm summer banger, it’s winter time and Mozzy is bringing the chill. Listen to the song, buy the album, and show some love to Jae Synth. 

Size Large/Hip-Hop Tees

I wear large tees. I used to go through phases of wearing tees with a bigger or smaller cut; stiffer or softer material. The only demand I have is that the tees be long. My torso’s disproportionately long and I sag my pants a little. Thankfully; I still find tall tees and longline stuff was in style more recently, anyway. The only advantage of softer tees is they irritate my sensitive skin less and almost never chafe my nipples. The former thing is just annoying while the latter can hurt like shit. I’ll pretty much wear any t-shirt made of 100% cotton, as long as it’s cheaper and I like how it looks. I rarely ever spend over $10 on a tee. I usually have the good luck of finding tees for less than that.

I still like tees that are cut bigger, but I’m wearing a graphic with a pixelated 2pac that’s cut more on the tiny side and it fits comfortably. I wear graphics ironically quite often. I’m actually not much of a 2pac fan. I have a Notorious B.I.G. one, too. I don’t even really like his stuff at all. I swear I’m a Hip-Hop fan and I don’t care for everyone’s favorites.

Earl Sweatshirt to NPR
  • EARL: I am trying to start a fucking magazine.
  • KELLEY: Oh my god. That was my favorite —
  • EARL: Because journalism is so trash right now.
  • MUHAMMAD: Yeah. Tell us about it.
  • EARL: Have you read the writeup on Kendrick's album on iTunes?
  • KELLEY: Not on iTunes.
  • EARL: Oh my god. It made me want to start —
  • KELLEY: I'm refusing to read reviews of that album right now.
  • EARL: I'm saying that shit fucks me up. I be looking for good writing and people doing these fucking fourth grade book reports on people's albums. Like, "This happened and then there was also a feature from ... And then. And also." Music writing sucks so fucking bad. It's literally fourth grade — it's shit that my mom was like, "Don't do this," when I was like nine, the shit that I stopped doing when I was a little kid. Like, bro, you are receiving a C-, not even an F. This isn't even crazy. This just sucks.

And It Don’t Stop: The Best American Hip-Hop Journalism of the Last 25 Years

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 edited by Raquel Cepeda

In September 1979, there was a cosmic shift that went unnoticed by the majority of mainstream America. This shift was triggered by the release of the Sugarhill Gang’s single, Rapper’s Delight. Not only did it usher rap music into the mainstream’s consciousness, it brought us the word “hip-hop." And It Don’t Stop, edited by the award winning journalist Raquel Cepeda, with a foreword from Nelson George is a collection of the best articles the hip-hop generation has produced. It captures the indelible moments in hip-hop’s history since 1979 and will be the centerpiece of the twenty-fifth-anniversary celebration. 

This book epitomizes the media’s response by taking the reader on an engaging and critical journey, including the very first pieces written about hip-hop for publications like The Village Voice–controversial articles that created rifts between church and state, the artist and journalist, and articles that recorded the rise and tragic fall of the art form’s appointed heroes, such as Tupac Shakur, Eazy-E, and the Notorious B.I.G. The list of contributors includes Toure, Kevin Powell, dream hampton, Harry Allen, Cheo Hodari Coker, Greg Tate, Bill Adler, Hilton Als, Danyel Smith, and Joan Morgan.