America Has Always Tried To Be Hip-Hops Overseer

In the early 1980s, when hip-hop was cementing itself in the Black community, so was a devastating new drug and a police force that didnt know what to do with either.

By Phillip Jackson

Aug. 30, 2023

Lets all jump in the whip and go back. Back to 2005, I was in the sixth grade, and the most popular hip-hop songs were still accompanied by dances. You know, Soulja Boy and all the other crank dats that would follow.

And while that music had its place, it didnt have the substance I wanted. It didnt feel like the CDs my father used to play during car rides when I was younger.

So, I started my own journey into hip-hop with Dr. Dres The Chronic and Raekwons Only Built 4 Cuban Linx. I was immediately a fan of the gritty and deceptive stories told from their on-the-ground eyewitness perspective, and the music was still relevant.

One commonality I found between the two iconic rap albums from the East and West Coasts was this unapologetic attitude and approach to telling what was really going on in their neighborhoods.

Through hip-hop, I would learn about war: The war between the Black community and the police.

As hip-hop rose to prominence in the early 80s, so did crack and, with it, violence. As the country declared a so-called war on drugs, they also declared a war on Black people and the music that was becoming the voice for the community. Rappers became journalists with raw and deep storytelling glorifying an inner-city Dickensian dream. No longer was the media a go-between for what was happening in drug dens. We no longer needed a Public Information Officer for an areas drug task force. Ice-T could report exactly what happened at 6 N the Mornin .