This is something that has occurred to me for some time now. So I decided to throw my two cents into the stream of consciousness that we call the Innanets.

The other day I was listening to “Beamer, Benz, or Bentley”, the awe-inspiring yet thematically out-of-place-with-the-times opus by Lloyd Bank$ & Juelz Santanta, when it occurred to me that there was an astounding 8 or 9 playful imitations iterations simultaneously being discussed on various blogs, web magazines, and mechanism for self-promotion on Twitter, etc. If I didn’t know any better, I might not know who’s song was the original.

Do we even know who produced the joint? Theoretically, if ‘Elz and Banks propagated it into our consciousness, they’re more promoters of the beat than they are owners of it- something that is alarming in this era where the life cycle of a “single” is comparable to that of a palm tree growing in Canada.

How did we get here?

Pardon me if I’m overstating the obvious, but this dynamic exists in part as a result of a lack of quality filters. And the truth is, current standards don’t call for one in these rabid days of UGC and digital entitlement. There’s no respect or “content etiquette”- ideologically, everything has become one big, flat (and boring) plateau. The dominance that the blogosphere (and I’m referring to those who are more glorified citizen reporters than journalists) has attained by promoting and encouraging a cacophony of unauthorized- and often uninspiring- “remixes” immediately after a joint has come out has withered our appetite for flava flavor. We’re being fed content so rapidly, our tastes have dissolved, and as a byproduct, our standards have devolved.

How have we become desensitized to hot sh*t?

I don’t consider myself an old head to be reminiscing on days past, but I do consider myself someone of discerning taste and understanding of the role that different events played within the musical environment. If you jumped on another beat unauthorized, it was a beat jack, and in the case that it was done tastefully, it was reserved for late-night Flex, or a Clue? tape. Period. Additionally, your rendition was never called the “remix”- it was rightfully called “part 2”, or some alternate version (See: “Money, Cash, Hoes”. And it’s baby brother, the marvelous Money, Cash, Hoes (Part II)”).

I remember hearing the clever, breakthrough social satire genius that was Sporty Thievez’s “No Pigeons” in ’98 and thinking to myself in simultaneous perplexity and awe, “That isn’t their beat! How can they be on the radio going at TLC on their own joint?” Ownership was implied. It was revered. Today? Not so much.

To be fair, this dynamic of transparent entitlement has paid dividends within the career of certain artists: arguably, Kid Cudi wouldn’t have eventually attained critical mass if the abstract “Day N’ Nite” never made it across Jim Jones’s and Pitbull’s respective radars (ironic how in this case the large rappers act as early adopters. Who knew?). However, it opened up the floodgates for everyone to have a “Day N’ Nite”. Fast forward a year and a half, and everyone wants you to hear their “Exhibit C”, or their “Over” (which hasn’t been out more than two weeks!)… Ugh.

IF IT’S EVERYONE’S JOINT, WAS IT EVER ANYONE’S JOINT?

I say that to say this:

If hip-hop music is organically transitioning into a “riddim” culture, where artists are culturally inclined to be competitive on a dedicated beat, I think that’s pretty fresh, and certainly good for producers. But we need to ensure that this tipping of the scales is more pronounced, and allow new norms to be well, norms- giving the masses a defined culture to indulge in and guidelines to adhere to. Otherwise, the “I’m jumping on this because I got the instrumental, and I’m shooting a video because I can” attitude will continue to stain the game that is dying for some creativity. Literally.

Hip-hop was always more fun when there were rules.

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