“It is both possible and impossible to appreciate rap music as a white fan,” [Associate Professor of Philosophy at Florida Southern College,] H.A. Nethery said.
The professor added that rap is a “gift” to white people which “exposes the opaque white-racist self through the inducement of double consciousness within [the] listener.”
Good to know. You see,
Rap music is an expression of lived experiences of being the target of a world structurally dominated by white supremacy.
Which is apparently a thing; though, as so often, it seems we must take that on trust. And so, in order to properly appreciate rap music and its variations, rather than merely appropriating them, the Pale Oppressor must first indulge in “direct-self-reflection on [their] own complicity within the systems of white supremacy.” Casual and spontaneous listening is, I’m assuming, out of the question. First you must atone.
Having cultivated the appropriate level of neurosis and pretentious agonising, readers are invited to contemplate the uplifting ditties of Mr Stormzy, a rapper beloved by Guardian columnists, and who wishes us to know about his nocturnal adventures as an oppressed person – albeit a very wealthy one – specifically, his being able to “take your chick,” and more specifically, “getting freaky in the sheets,” and even more specifically, “finishing with a facial.”
Readers will doubtless recall that Mr Stormzy and his works have been deemed a fitting replacement for Mozart in school music lessons.
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