At
Joel Osteen’s megachurch, rap artist, Kanye West, declared that he, “the
greatest artist God ever created,” was dedicating his gifts to the service of
God. “Greatest artist ever created…”? Kanye, you ever heard of Leonardo da
Vinci, or Michelangelo? How about Bach, Beethoven, or Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart?
You
would place your works above Shakespeare, who once wrote: “There is a tide in
the affairs of men when taken at its flood leads on to fortune. Omitted, all
his life is bound in the shallows.” You, Kanye, could not deliver such
profundity if God gifted you with a thousand years.
But,
let's not go there. Let’s narrow this strange debate down to America – more
specifically to African-Americans. Kanye speaks as though the only artists who
matter are those who performed during his brief stint of cognizance – as though
God’s work was middlin’ up until then. I must ask: “Kanye, are you crazy?”
You
would casually pass over Marvin Gaye, who iconic “What’s Going On?” challenged
billions worldwide to think about what we are doing to ourselves and our
planet. Ever hear of Ray Charles, Nat King Cole, Ella Fitzgerald? How about Sam
Cooke, Dinah Washington, Curtis Mayfield, and Michael Jackson? And what artists
have dug grooves so deep as Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Charlie “Bird” Parker,
and Louis Armstrong? When Aretha Franklin sang “Respect”, you must have been
asleep. How else could you discount her artistic excellence, as well as the
heights achieved by Dionne Warwick, and Diana Ross? Hey, ever hear of James Brown?
These
people were imbued with a thing we called “soul”. It ran like a river through
the black community. Long a hallmark of the African-American experience, this
sublime spirit became the thoroughfare by which the passion African-America was
unleashed. It was especially evident in the music and dance of black folk
throughout the 40s, 50s, 60s, and 70s. That precious commodity began to wane in
the 80s and 90s. It, perhaps reared its head one last time on the shoulders of
Whitney Houston. With her demise, it settled into the moribund state that
characterizes “soul” in the black community today. This new bread of African-American
artists, lacking the soul of their predecessors, now load up on whatever they
think will sell. They do a lot of sellin’, but it sho’ ain’t soul.
The
hip-hop artists of Kanye’s ilk are not such great artists as they are
revolutionaries. They have influenced young African-America to make a severe
left turn, and speed down a highway devoid of the sense of history that
fostered its soul – that sense that had made African-America a great and viable
community. These rap artists reflect a vanity that is terribly self-destructive
– that has replaced “rhythms and blues” with “nigguhs” and “bitches.” They
think they have arrived. They are very proud.
Some
may say I over-reacted to Kanye’s controversial remarks. Perhaps, except that
would suggest that Kanye was merely speaking in jest. That would also lead one
to imagine that Joel Osteen had brought Kanye before his church to crack jokes.
Joel is a serious man; Kanye is delusional. Delusional men do not crack jokes,
they believe.
