Why don't black women like hip hop?

November 11

Femi is wondering why black women don't like hip hop. 11:21pm

On Friday, November 9, I hit downtown Austin to see one of hip hop’s best live performers, Lyrics Born. As I sat in the back waiting for the wack second act to mercifully get off the stage so that LB could rock the spot, I engaged in a favorite activity of mine: people watching. In doing so, I observed a group of people to my right. What stuck out is that two members of the group were black females. So I thought to myself, “Hey, two black girls.” They were the only two black girls out of the 200 or so people who had made it out to Emo’s for the show (although I’m pretty sure that at least one of them was mixed). That’s not the first time I’ve made that observation. Pretty much any time I go to an underground show and see black females, I’m thinking to myself, “Sweet.” It’s a rather rare occurrence. But this was the first time I took that line of thinking further and stopped to ask myself the question: why don’t black women like hip hop?

(Uche, at 11:43pm on November 11th, 2007: You might wanna rethink that comment.... (@ your status))

Now, I should stop here and make two notes:

1) When I use the term “hip hop” I am not referring to the diluted audio crack rocks that record label pushers slang on the radio corner and in most video show housing projects. That’s not hip hop. (I could train a dog to bark on beat every time a monkey bangs a wooden spoon on a metal pot and call THAT hip hop, don’t mean that it is.) I’m talking about that pure uncut dope. That’s right: I’m in full hip hop elitist mode and I’m using drug metaphors; that let’s you know how seriously I’m taking this.

2) If you happen to be a black woman reading this, I am not asking why YOU don’t like hip hop. If you do like it, great. If you don’t, what’s wrong with you? Just kidding (only not really). To each her own. What I am asking is why are black women the one demographic group least likely (and by FAR) to attend an underground hip hop show?

I go to a lot of shows and most of the time there’s a fairly standard look to the crowd. I see white dudes and white chicks, Latinos and Latinas, Asian guys and Asian girls, black guys…and more white girls. And it’s not limited to just shows. I see virtually the same breakdown at b-boy competitions, graffiti exhibits, open mic nights, etc. Why is this?

(Maria at 10:17am on November 12th, 2007: what black women have u been talking 2? and are you speaking of hip of old or "hip hop" of today? there is a difference...)

Now there are exceptions. There are always a lot more black women when I go to see Strange Fruit Project. But that’s kinda skewed. When I see them they’re always performing to their home crowd and a lot of the people in the audience are family members or friends. I’d be curious to see what the crowd looks like at one of their shows in Chicago or San Francisco.

The other exception takes a little more exposition. When I’ve gone to see The Roots or Common or Talib Kweli there are also always a lot more black women. But what these artists all have in common (no pun intended) is that they are backed by major labels, meaning that they have songs on the radio and videos on whatever channels play music videos nowadays. So I have to wonder if that’s what it takes for black women as a group to start following an artist. But again, I have to wonder…why? Does that mean that the new model that many hip hop artists are utilizing—starting their own labels to remain completely independent and to retain complete creative control—will remain unappealing to black women?

I know a few ladies who could give even me a run for my money when it comes to trivia about A Tribe Called Quest or A Bizarre Ride to the Pharcyde. However, these same women give me completely blank looks when I mention Blackalicious or 3rd Eye Vision. I would really like to know when that changed. Where did the break come? Admittedly, artistic hip hop is not as easy to find today as it was 15 years ago but every other demographic has a small group that follows it. Why not black women?


“Rap ain’t about busting caps or fucking bitches/ It’s about fluency with rhyming ingenuity.”
- Del the Funky Homosapien (of Hieroglyphics), “At the Helm”


One reason I truly find this such an interesting phenomenon is that the mainstream rap world tends to be extremely disrespectful of women. Yet I don’t have nearly the trouble finding females who can quote many of the lyrics that disparage them that I do in finding women who can sing along to the lyrics that lift them up.

(Uma at 1:15am on November 12th, 2007: are you really wondering? there isn't much to love hip-hop wise if you are a Black woman.)


“Life is love, my wife is love/ Impossible not to write this love, won’t fight this love.”
- Key Kool (of the Visionaries), “If You Can’t Say Love


(Sean at 12:56pm yesterday: It seems more like hip-hop doesn't like black women, not vice versa.)


“There ain’t no love in your life? Then that’s some sad ass shit/ This woman I got? She’s the bad ass shit. That’s no exaggeration, man, I’m saying she’s the truth/ Other women walk by, they all bow and salute.”
- Lyrics Born, “I Can’t Wait for Your Love (Limited Time Offer)”


On Thursday, November 14, I’ll head back downtown to the Molotov Lounge to see one of Lyrics Born’s Quannum brethren: Gift of Gab of Blackalicious. There’s a chance that he’ll drop this line from “Purest Love”:

“The two realest cats I know? My two older brothers.
The most beautiful woman in the galaxy? My mother.
The strongest black women raising kids alone? My sisters.
The best part of my future is my present love interest.”


Unfortunately, I have a feeling that there won’t be too many black women in the audience to appreciate those words.

But if there are, you can be sure that I’ll take notice.