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DREA & SAMHonestly, we're just two girls a long way from home trying to get by with a little help from our friends and this blog apparently. Sam, SPARKY, is in Bloomingtom, Indiana for 10 months of the year and Drea, IGOTNOTHING, is in Boston, Mass. for those 10 months but every so often, they find themselves "comfortably" at home in Los Angeles, Ca. We're pretty cool, no lie. |
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Sunday, October 11, 2009
who can speak to me. so, it's pretty much all-around agreed that your typical and unfortunately ever-present frat boy born and raised in the heart of america or the girl-next-door from suburbia does not exactly have the right "ears" for listening to certain types of music (even though demographics and statistics show that middle-class white kids are the main consumers of anything and everything related to "hip-hop"). And yes, how can some kid driving in his parent-bought mercedes-benz ever really know the true gut-renching heartaching emotion of the words and lyrics of say, Tupac Shakur or any other great musical orator. How can someone so far removed from the tough and gritty street life that is, to where the reality is fantasy, really listen to such songs or lyrics or words? And moreso, should they even be listening? Much less blasting them to obnoxiously sky-high levels as the trawl through the oh-so ferocious and edgy streets of identical subdivisions and gated communities...yeah, real tough folks, those kids...I don't think that's what these artists intended when they wanted their messages to be heard. But still, while I agree that the majority, if not all, people that listen to hip-hop and the like, music with an actual meaning and message to society...something that pushes for a change...or says, hey, look right here...there's people suffering, can in no way truly understand the songs or lyrics...maybe, it doesn't always mean that there shouldn't be some forgivance in the white musical preferences. As a white girl myself, well half, and a white girl that grew up in the fastandhard life of a middle-class Los Angelino from the 'burbs, I have never really felt that I could listen to certain types of music. Just because I wouldn't really get it. That I could never claim it as my own...for that's what we do with music...we make it our own...we let it speak to us. But how can something like that speak to me? Someone who has never really had to fight for anything. It wasn't until a while ago that I decided to let go of this idea and listen in...secretly. See what was to be said and to be heard. And, aside from being so moved by the art of the production and sound and rhythm and words...I heard these voices. Yes, I will never ever in this life and maybe the next, be able to relate. Ever. But, you know what, I hear them. I am listening. And I hear them. Maybe that's the gift of my given name. Or maybe, it's just being human. Someone speaks. And we listen. I'm here. And I hear you. 10:24 AM
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