RADIO DAZE: A B-Girl’s Never Ending Search For The Talking Drum by
STAY
✡WOKE!
First off, allow me to introduce myself. I am a B-Girl. A girl who in 1980 fell in love with Hip Hop. The B in B-Girl is said to come from “break beats” and “breakdancing” and “boogie”. If you are unfamiliar with these terms, I’m sorry but I really don’t have the time to thoroughly explain them. You see, I’m on an inter-spatial journey via a temporal vortex; and TIME is of the essence. The Hip Hop Nation is approximately 30 years old. It is my desire to mark this milestone by analyzing where the Hip Hop Nation and black folk stand thus far. For your further erudition, I will supply you with a bibliography and a discography at the end of this essay so that in your free time you can engage in an in-depth study of what I can only give as an overview now. And if you don’t catch everything the first time through, don’t worry. You can re-read this article as many times as you wish, cuz... you got it like that. Having said this, sit back and relax as I take you on a trip through time. This is not a definitive history nor a scholarly endeavor. This is just one girl’s humble opinion about a very serious issue. A’ight, prepare yourself for a fantastic voyage. We’re gonna’ move fast so hold on tight, cuz here we go... WHAT’S IT ALL ABOUT The drummer holds the drum between his legs, sweat pours down his face as his hands frantically beat out a relentless, driving rhythm. The dancers ebb and flow in unison, swaying, rocking and rolling like a glorious tide. Every now and then they jump up as if to avoid being overcome by a wave of sound. They all are one: the drummer, his drum, the rhythm, the dancers. They all seem to understand what is being communicated; a message as simple as the beating of one’s own heart and as complex as the ever expanding universe. They are all in tune to the same vibe. The drum is “talking”; speaking ostensible truths that transcend space and time. The village elder enters the scene, the dancers’ minds, bodies and souls are now primed to receive the history, the story of their lives, the story of life, death, and the endless cycle that unites the two. The “griot” begins to speak as the drum gives way to wisdom. The village elder/griot tells those assembled from whence they came, where they are, and where they are going. To the African, the drum and the griot deciphered the world. The intricate drum beats broke down the complex rhythms of life. The griot, through their oral renditions of history and articulations of prophesy, taught essential life lessons. Miraculously, this ancient tradition survived the Middle Passage; carried in the hearts, minds and