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“Why you always rap about bein’ gay?” Queerness at the ends of homo-hop.

Content warnings: bigotry, sexual abuse


Glossary

PostPomoHomo: 'Post-post-modern homosexuals' A movement of black gay artists, which inspired the likes of Deep Dickollective.


Queer: Queer is a term used by those wanting to reject specific labels of romantic orientation, sexual orientation and/or gender identity.


Intersectionality: the interconnected nature of social categorisations such as race, class, and gender, regarded as creating overlapping and interdependent systems of discrimination or disadvantage



 


When talking about queerness and hip-hop, the conversation usually pivots between two very polarised time frames. There is the grim and disturbing vision of hip-hop’s past, when rappers dropped homophobic slurs in their rhymes like it was a joke, often intermingling their descriptions of queerness with violent and bigoted comments.


Then, there is present-day hip-hop, where awareness of LGBTQ representation has become much more mainstream, while bigotry, at least to the extent to which it was seen in hip-hop’s earlier days, is frowned upon. With a number of charting hip-hop artists feeling safe enough to be open about their sexual orientations, there seems to have been some sort of turning point in the last ten years.


This could be partially attributed to the political changes that have pathed the way for LGBTQ people to have more freedom, such as 2015’s Obergefell v. Hodges decision that guaranteed same-sex couples the right to get married in the USA. This article will focus on America’s hip-hop culture, where it all started in 70s New York, and where it still thrives following its 50th anniversary.


This perceptibly sudden change in the way the industry (labels, charts, artists, distributors) has viewed queerness can also be felt through the different forms of artistic activism musicians have engaged in over the years. Frank Ocean’s coming out letter is treated as a touchstone for any article on this topic (including this article right here). I want to refrain from referring to contemporary artists, who happen to be queer, as “queer/gay/trans rap artists” or their genres as “queer hip-hop” precisely because of how mainstream and approachable these topics have become in recent times. Though this is definitely a welcome change, it has not arrived without criticism, even from LGBTQ listeners, who have problems with “performative sexuality.” There certainly are tracks, albums, and even artists who have dedicated queer themes with revolutionary goals. However, many artists today, such as Ocean, Lil Uzi Vert, Lil Nas X, Nicki Minaj and more have successfully incorporated themes of sexuality either into their mainstream song writing or their public personalities.


No homo or Postpomohomo?

It is a common belief that hip-hop as a whole has always been firmly anti-queer. In truth, hip-hop is not a monolithic entity, but a genre that can be tapped into by anyone with an awareness of the medium’s possibilities.


Hip-hop is notorious for breaking down boundaries and being a revolutionary act of expression. Few art forms can channel righteous anger through easily accessible means as well as hip hop does. Kendrick Lamar, NWA, and Immortal Technique are but a few examples of politically engaged rappers that deliver punchy and radical lyrics.


Equally, there is plenty of truth in the belief that much of hip-hop’s history is blighted by casual as well as downright aggressive homophobia. Kanye West, as crass as his public statements are now, in 2005 called against the use of homophobic remarks in hip-hop. “No homo” is one of the most tired ad-libs in all of hip-hop and even the cleanest rappers like Will Smith have anti-gay skeletons in their closet.


Throughout hip-hop’s early days, queerness had only one form of expression and that was through underground artists like Deep Dickollective (stylised as D/DC). Sensational naming aside, this hip-hop group was founded upon postmodernist critique of heteronormativity and race theory. Their mission statement was to dismantle and reconstitute their intersectionality through lyricism that was often much more intellectual and engaging than what was played on hip-hop radio stations in the early 2000s. That their inspiration was drawn from niche political and poetic circles made no difference as they spoke to and for their own communities.


Three shirtless members of D/DC looking to the side.
'With The Key (Sissies): The Very Best of Deep Dickollective' album cover.

Group members Tim’m West and Juba Kalamka first met at a screening of Tongues Untied, an experimental documentary film about black and gay love, in San Francisco’s Castro theatre. West suffered from both depression and AIDS. He found he could not talk about his experiences the way he wanted to, due to the hate he felt from the hip-hop community as well as the conflation of queerness with whiteness in the bay area at the time.


When Phillip Atiga Goff joined the group, name was coined initially as a joke, a form of lexical blending of dick and collective, but it also was a way to create an empowering space for self expression, the way they saw women discuss erotica at the spoken word performances with which they were familiar. The final member to join was Ralowe Ampu and he brought his own experience in Marxist theory that provided further depth and intersectionality to their lyrics.

D. Mark Wilson interviewed the group and analysed their lyrics, providing really important context for looking back at this group. Wilson surmised that the group do not rap for one identity group but address “the needs and concerns of many,” and that “if women, whites, and weirdos from around the world could rap,” then D/DC could be equally important for the changing perspectives within hip-hop.


Wilson read Mariposa Prelube (another title that demonstrates the group’s social wit and humour) as a song that expands the dimensions of activism in hip-hop, a channel the group thought to be all too heteronormative. Mariposa, as explained by Juba, is a term from the Latino communities around D/DC that refers to effeminate gay men, typically as an insult. Wilson thought that if “n****” can be incorporated into hip-hop identity, then the same can be done with mariposa and queer.” The song certainly relishes in the word’s connotations, drawing allusions to the literal meaning of “butterfly” in Spanish, as the MCs imagine themselves coming out from cocoons or metamorphosing from caterpillars.

Though the group only lasted eight years, they left an important blueprint and precedent behind, off which artists in the 2010s built.


Case Study: Brockhampton

Group photo of some of Brokchampton's members in blue hoodies with distortion effects applied.
BROCKHAMPTON

"Brockhampton brings together a set of elements that at first seem disparate. They are gay, black, white, DIY, ambitious, all-inclusive, and would-be pop stars."

This quote from Complex paints a desperately succinct picture of one of the most unique-sounding and chaotic musical acts in recent hip-hop history. Their inherently ‘queered’ sound exploded onto the indie rap scene, breaking rules on how hip-hop artists should sound and look, while their later commercial ventures came with problems relating to their off-stage issues as well as growing pains that came with working under a big label. It has been over a year since the self-professed boyband broke up and if there was one thing that remained consistent over their 12-year span, it was their radical approach to redefining hip-hop as queer.


If D/DC wanted to dismantle and reconstitute, Brockhampton wanted to cradle this reconstituted whole and naturalise it. Several of their members are gay according to the band’s most prolific member Kevin Abstract, including himself.


Their lyrics cover a broad range of themes and topics. Just on the album SATURATION II, the typically macho, flashy bars that aim to show-off and/or intimidate are heard with “I got my hand on an ounce, so now I got money servin’/ I just bought me a fifth and now I’m speedin’, swervin’.”These are reference to drugs and cars, emblematic of a cold appeal of life’s material wealth.


Love, both for love’s sake and love as a revolutionary act against heteronormativity is most often sung by Abstract, such as in the following verse:


"Why you always rap about bein' gay?"

'Cause not enough n****s rap and be gay!

Where I come from, n****s get called "f*****" and killed

So I'ma get head from a n**** right here

And they can come and cut my hand off and, and my legs off and

And I'ma still be a boss 'til my head gone, yeah.


This refers to how he has faced discrimination both as a gay man in a homophobic society and as a rapper facing discrimination from the industry. There is a brutal contrast, particularly with the song's delivery in mind, between the slurs, which stresses the perceived uncanniness of gay rapping. The palpable tension between the two words draws an unsightly picture of the effort it takes to reconcile the intersectional pushback from the oppressive world a black gay man faces. Here lies the most striking similarity between Brockhampton and D/DC; representations of pluralised backgrounds and reclaiming slurs for art with wit and rhyme.


Different visions of time both come up, too, through fondness or dread for the future and past (“All of my life in my past wanna haunt/ And my sight of the future begginin’ to taunt my ambition”).


Religiosity and its clash with their lifestyles is also critical, as in “I speak in tongues and I arrive without a damn mention.” This refers to the Holy Spirit’s gift of being able to worship God in foreign languages, but this is cleverly interpolated into rap’s culture of getting “mentioned” and praised by your contemporaries. Abstract, however, does not get a mention, possibly due to his abnormal, anti-mainstream art and background.


All these lyrics come from just one song on one album, but already show the deep intersectional substance contained within this band’s ethos. Each member brings something striking, something different to each track, sometimes bringing together disparate ideas such as very up-beat, flashy bars on wealth contrasted against a story of forlorn love. This is not even to mention the incredibly diverse production styles that the band has mastered, from horror-core on JUNKY to super poppy bangers like SUGAR, which featured the superstar Dua Lipa.

The latter track’s original version (sans Dua) ended up being the band’s biggest commercial success, thanks to (and stop me if you’ve heard this before) a TikTok trend incorporating the song’s chorus into a dance routine. It charted high and shows just how mainstream such an odd-ball group can be. Granted, it wasn’t their most audacious or interesting song, but nevertheless proves that the efforts of the pioneers, such as D/DC, and contemporary artists can overcome those tired stereotypes of 'no-homo'.


Brockhampton’s inclusive image was severely tarnished following allegations against one of their vocalists, Ameer Vann, that purported him to have engaged in sexual misconduct as well as having sexual relations with a minor. Though Vann denied these claims, he was quickly dropped from the roster. This, combined with another controversy that involved vocalist Dom McLennon revealing that Vann had been involved in a robbery done to a friend, severely hurt the band’s appeal. They never managed to reach the same highs as in the late 2010s and many fans stopped listening. Fans on online forums grappled over whether the actions of one member reflect the culture within the group as a whole. Some members, such as Kevin Abstract, were more keen than others to remain in contact with Vann, which was a topic discussed in the band's penultimate album, mostly a solo effort from Abstract, The Family.


Queerness at large

The 2010s saw the rise of other big names in hip-hop coming out as LGBTQ. His highest charting song, Lost, is about a heterosexual relationship (worth reiterating here that Frank is not a fan of strict labels on his sexuality), which is definitely surprising when many of his LGBTQ fans recall the playful, clever, and certainly homoerotic lyrics on Chanel as almost anthemic of queer representation in rap.


My guy pretty like a girl,

And he got fight stories to tell.

I see both sides like Chanel.


A portrait of Frank Ocean facing the camera with his mouth slightly ajar.
Frank Ocean by Andras Ladocsi

Ocean’s frequent collaborator Tyler, the Creator had a very different experience in coming out. In his early career years, Tyler came under a lot of fire for his use of slurs and offensive themes in his songs. However, in 2015, he called himself “gay as f***” in an interview with Rolling Stone. Like Ocean, he had never put it in plain text and often made remarks about his sexuality in comedic contexts. Many of his early public appearances and interviews were caked in irony, which meant comments on his sexuality were either interpreted as homophobic jokes or as dodged questions. In his later musical projects, he went on to be more honest and frank about his romantic past.


Truth is, since a youth kid, thought it was a phase

Thought it'd be like the phrase; "poof," gone

But, it's still goin' on.


An X post saying "I TRIED TO COME OUT THE DAMN CLOSET LIKE FOUR DAYS AGO AND NO ONE CARED HAHAHHAHAHA".
X, formerly known as Twitter

Lil Nas X's expression of queerness through his music and public image is much different, as his music caters more to the mainstream and he came out publicly much sooner. Since then, fans and critics have retrospectively picked up on markers of a certain queer aesthetic within Old Town Road, his first big hit before publicly coming out. Industry Baby and its music video, as much as it is X embracing an intoxicatingly energetic camp aesthetic, it does blend subtle elements of heteronormativity through Jack Harlow’s feature, due to the latters lyrics and suave, lady's man persona. Again, some see this as a way to downplay the homosexual themes, but it could equally be a politically significant act of making the queer hip-hop star present a utopian vision of feeling totally incorporated into mainstream culture. Through the setting of a prison in the music video, a typically dangerously chauvinistic space, the artist managed to queer it and reclaim it. The ideas within the video are not totally original, but the approach to contextualising them on queer terms is very important for how hip-hop can represent queerness.


Lil Nas X standing in a corner of a jail cell, shirtless with a towel round his arms, while a male dancer in a pink prison jumpsuit twerks on him.
London Alley music video for Lil Nas X

There are, of course, plenty of factors that corrupt this idealistic vision. Discrimination in and through hip-hop is not a solved issue. In 2021, DaBaby made a string of disturbing comments at Rolling Loud festival that took aim at gay people, as well as those who suffer from AIDS. This caused a lot of backlash from the media and the public. The video released in response to this by DaBaby did little to soothe over the homophobic remarks, and his album release following those events made a number of allusions to the controversy, though the rapper seemed more concerned with reminding people how much money he lost from the debacle.


I was at Rolling Loud, shuttin' down a whole damn show, tried to make me have a problem with gays Mixed up my words, made a n**** lose a whole thirty million,

now, I'm back and I'ma say what I say.


Nicki Minaj has faced backlash for potentially being guilty of queer-baiting, an act of exploiting queer aesthetics or audiences for commercial goals. Despite recently turning down a performance in Saudi Arabia to make a stand against the country's anti-LGBTQ laws, the rapper still faces accusations of her sexuality being a performance. It is important to remember, that while sexuality is part of these artists' public lives, due to the proliferation of lifestyle media and stories, it is also something deeply personal to each one of them, too. Nicki Minaj also faces discrimination on the grounds of her femininity, often portrayed as hyper-femininity through her music videos, which is part of the important intersecting fragments of what is normal and what is not in hip-hop. This echoes what D/DC saw in hip-hop's culture years ago, how people struggle to approach or accept multiple, intersecting levels of divergence from the norm.


Kendrick Lamar’s recent album also came under scrutiny for the song Auntie Diaries. The song’s use of slurs split critic’s opinions on artistic liberty.


You said, "Kendrick, ain't no room for contradiction To truly understand love, switch position 'F*****, f*****, f*****,' we can say it together But only if you let a white girl say 'N****'".


In this song, Kendrick reflects on the changing perceptions of queerness amongst a largely heteronormative community: his home and his family. He lingers on religion, stereotypes, and the sometimes counter-logical lessons he has learned on what being politically correct means. The song ends on something of a paradox, delivered with bluntness that refers to an incident when he lets a white girl come up on his stage and sing along to a song that used the word “n****.” Wilson posed a similar rhetorical question, and it really comes down to whether hip-hop can accept the reality of queer oppression as much as black oppression. Both histories are unique, but also filled with analogues that can bridge the communities together, and allow those who share the two perspectives to amplify their voice.


Reconstituted?

From D/DC's foundations, to the mainstream appeal of queer superstars of hip-hop today, rappers seem to have found the formula for expressing sexuality. However, it is easy to take this evolution for granted. Both within the industry and within the audience, hate and bigotry is still disturbingly audible. Equally, queer rappers today may not have felt as safe today, or had the same outreach, were it not for the work of their predecessors. On a more optimistic note, it is a certainty that many other queer listeners, who tune in to hear the rhymes of Lil Nas X or the flows of Tyler, the Creator, will feel inspired to share their truth in the future, however weird or unspoken it may have been until then.



 


Bibliography

Baker, E. (2015). Two Insane Days on Tour With Tyler, the Creator. [online] Rolling Stone. Available at: https://www.rollingstone.com/culture/culture-news/two-insane-days-on-tour-with-tyler-the-creator-233121/9/ [Accessed 10 Jan. 2024].

Chonin, N. (2001). Hip to homo-hop / Oakland’s D/DC fuses gay and black identities with eyebrow-raising rhyme. [online] SFGATE. Available at: https://www.sfgate.com/entertainment/article/Hip-to-homo-hop-Oakland-s-D-DC-fuses-gay-and-2839793.php [Accessed 10 Jan. 2024].

Coombes, H. (2019). Intersectionality 101: what is it and why is it important? [online] Womankind Worldwide. Available at: https://www.womankind.org.uk/intersectionality-101-what-is-it-and-why-is-it-important/ [Accessed 14 Jan. 2024].

Cotte, J. (2018). Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Brockhampton (But Were Afraid to Ask). [online] Complex. Available at: https://www.complex.com/music/a/jorgeicotte/brockhampton-explained [Accessed 10 Jan. 2024].

Wilson, D.M. (2007). Post-Pomo Hip-Hop Homos: Hip-Hop Art, Gay Rappers, and Social Change. Social Justice, [online] 34(1 (107)), pp.117–140. Available at: https://www.jstor.org/stable/pdf/29768425.pdf?refreqid=fastly-default%3A7e078964f36b7dd47b0c3c6792079c1a&ab_segments=&origin=&initiator=&acceptTC=1 [Accessed 10 Jan. 2024].

X (formerly Twitter). (2024). Available at: https://twitter.com/tylerthecreator/status/587459235706900480?lang=en [Accessed 10 Jan. 2024].

Tumblr. (2024). frank ocean: Photo. [online] Available at: https://frankocean.tumblr.com/image/26473798723 [Accessed 10 Jan. 2024].

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