Me and a friend started doing this thing where we'd listen to ‘Not Like Us’ whenever we were angry as a calming exercise.
If you cannot imagine why we might do this, you might not be the target audience for this one.
It was really odd scrolling through Tumblr after Kendrick dropped this victory lap of a track. What was for me and others like me an affirming, bouncy ass-shaker meant to be played in the club, was for some a hyper-aggressive war cry. Many considered it to be “hard-core rap”, and honestly, I think that might just be code for “I find the voice of a black man inherently frightening”. It's also relevant to note that this is the same demographic who feels the need to ask whether ‘Hamilton’ counts as rap. There's an even funnier flip-side to this: the same friend (hi Amina) shared an outrageous reddit post with me of a white rap fan asking for permission to say the n-slur while reciting the song's lyrics because it was “such a huge moment for the culture”. This is clearly an individual who has conflated the ability to eavesdrop on our conversations via the mass surveillance of the internet with community and familiarity (many such cases), and it has yielded a radioactive case study as a result.
The phenomenon of the white hip hop fan intrigues me; Kendrick was on that track talking about culture vultures and the commercialization of hip hop that allowed Drake to become what he is now. His “winning” a rap beef against an artist like Drake is widely considered a black cultural victory (a sentiment I don't entirely agree with but we move), and yet, just by virtue of saying you're a fan of the man’s work, that victory becomes ‘yours’. Everybody's. It becomes everyone's new workout song, or proof that you're a real, bonafide Rap Enjoyer because you listen to at least one guy that writes lyrics that make white people feel bad about racism.
(Let's not act like White Guilt hasn't become a hot commodity in the post-Obama era.)
Some might argue that art is at its best when it's for everybody, but I would ask such a person what we lose when a piece has its edges filed down to a smooth, nondescript shape that fits into any gap. The only kind of art that exists that truly is for “everybody” in this world is a commercial.
It was also really weird to experience (though to a lesser extent) scrolling through TikTok. After having to witness the Biden administration co-opt lyrics from ‘Euphoria’ that had also been turned into an audio, I saw that the internet was quick to do the same with ‘Not Like Us’. The most popular, dance challenge-generating line had nothing to do with the wider cultural significance of Kendrick's crusade against the shopping mall-ification of rap music, it was the “Certified Lover boy, Certified Pedophiles” line. People seemed most interested in the public spectacle that always ensues when we find out for the 30th time that an abuser is…well, an abuser. Most people knew that Drake was a weirdo, but now they could make memes about it. Never mind all that other stuff.
Now “freaky ass n*gga, he a 69 god” gets used in comments and Twitch chats in the same manner as “no Diddy”. Do with that what you will.
I'll be honest, I was never the biggest hip hop fan, and don't know any more about it than the average Brooklynite is required to know. I don't listen to much male rap when I do engage with the genre. But I don't find it hard to understand at least part of why Kendrick wants to let the party die: there were too many uninvited guests.
The state of rap music right now feels like a bit like a tourist attraction, where everyone—from white guys with fancy headphones who grew up in the suburbs to other non-white folks who think that being poor makes you close enough to being black to get dreadlocks—feel welcome to peruse through our stories and voices the way you would a clothing rack at the thrift store. Pain is “moving” and “inspiring”. Joy is for your “BBE” playlist. Labeled and consumed in little packages like Lunchables*.
Kendrick, though I have my many critiques of him, has brought a lot of questions about blackness and its relationship to pop culture back to the forefront of my mind: What does it mean, to be perpetually observed? To be constantly putting on a show that you didn't sign up for but are aware of all the same? To not be able to do anything about it? I really do wonder how this guy must feel watching videos of crowds full of non-black party-goers chanting “THEY NOT LIKE US!” while none of the “us” in question are present.
A weird thing happens, then. What does “us” mean when it reaches other places?
Does “Not Like Us” mean “us, the fanbase who has won the beef by proxy even though we didn't do anything”? Does it mean “us, the ones who never liked Drake in the first place”? Or “us, the cool people who are cool because we so happen to be listening to this very popular song at the moment”?
And lastly: Are you really changing anything if every song you make about how the current industry must crumble goes number one on Billboard and has pop stars dancing to it on tiktok? We'll just have to wait and see.
*apparently Lunchables were found to have questionable amounts of lead in them recently. This has nothing to do with anything I just think that’s wild crazy