Was I the only one, who reacted to Miley Cyrus’ highly nuanced and informed perspectives on the genre we call Hip Hop, with nothing more than a lethargic eye roll and a non-committal shrug of the shoulders? For those of you who thought the best response to the non-story, would be to carry on with your own lives; wordsmith Miley had the following to say:
‘… I love that Kendrick [Lamar] song [“Humble”]…because it’s not ‘Come sit on my d**k, suck on my c**k.’ I can’t listen to that anymore,” said she.
Okay, so valley girl, so good…“That’s what pushed me out of the hip-hop scene… It was too much ‘Lamborghini, got my Rolex, got a girl on my c**k’ — I am so not that.” Nope, still don’t care, in fact let me go hang my ‘drag a culture vulture cape’ right back up.
Miley’s comments should neither provoke outrage or surprise; Cyrus was merely copying the musical motif of Disney Star’s past. Mickey Mouse eared popstar with large fan base but corny image needs cool factor and credibility (cue black people). After attaining said desired level of success, said popstar throws said black people under, said bus. That’s how America was built right?
Despite the bitter history of the continual cultural and musical exploitation of African Americans, many of my people oddly enough chose to believe that Miley really was ‘ ’bout that life’. While those of us with brains knew all too well that the only thing Miss Cyrus was ’bout, was that paper, and of course that fame.
We should also take care not to forget those who took it upon themselves to hand Miley an access all areas pass to the ‘Museum of African American Life’ along with the illusive and proverbial ‘black card’. Yes, black people men I’m talking to you. More specifically Mike Will Made It, Juicy J and Pharrell Williams. I must also give a dishonourable mention to J Hov himself ‘twerk Miley twerk’ and to Migos who delivered the gift of hope to no ass having white women everywhere in their 2014 classic ‘Hannah Montana’.
For a former all smiles, no cerebrals child star, Cyrus certainly knows how to play a winning hand. Luckily for Miley, dignity among black men is pretty thin on the ground. Those around her were all too happy to contort and twist themselves into a human pedestal on which to raise a white, female popstar, remarkable only in mediocrity.
Our ire might well find a convenient target in ‘The Climb’ singer, but unless it can be proved Mr ‘Ear Drummers’ himself collaborated with Cyrus, as an AK47 was pointed at his head, it is certainly miss placed.
And now, Miley has abandoned the Hip Hop ship (and all who sailed in her) running back into the safe, beneficent and patriarchal arms of white society. They in turn have welcomed her de-grilled, de-twerked and de-ratchet self home. Cyrus celebrates her prodigal return with an ode to the blonde and the vacuous, entitled ‘Malibu’. My people, on the other hand, find themselves commiserating with a performance of the ‘white people done robbed me’ soft shoe shuffle for the 500th year running…