By young h  |  Send to Friend

Unlike that of other musical genres, hip-hop’s audience puts its talent under a magnifying glass that examines more than talent. It’s a double- edged sword as we scrutinize erroneous details in a rapper’s background then decry when one’s reality isn’t rooted in struggle. While this image conscious state would cause some to find shame in clean and honorable pasts (i.e. Rick Ross’ former career as a correctional officer or Lupe Fiasco’s shunning of A Tribe Called Quest), Asher Roth hails from the suburbs of Philadelphia and presents the challenge of being happy, carefree and unabashedly white in a game fueled by what are generally perceived to be black interests.

Before hip-hop became the globally emulated phenomenon existing before us today, it was a pure and intimate haven centered around understanding the dance, art, language and rhythm of the disenfranchised. Though its foundation was built by black and Hispanic youth, the culture openly welcomed anyone with an appreciation and interest in its prosperity. White executives Dante Ross (largely responsible for spearheading the careers of De La Soul and Brand Nubian), Def Jam co-founder Rick Rubin and Lyor Cohen are amongst the executives who have played indelible roles in shaking up the culture, but the truly bold and brave have been the MCs driven to establish relevance on turf that questions their mere presence.

White rap music has historically been a reversed minstrelsy of sorts, as most careers were expressly marketed to garner the respect of an audience and rapping peers of African-American descent. MC Serch and Prime Minister Pete Nice of 3rd Bass received a pass from the likes of the Native Tongues clique and Russell Simmons, while Vanilla Ice’s machismo and explicit gyrations rendered him one of hip-hop’s greatest laughing stocks. House Of Pain and Cypress Hill had enough edge to stir up the people’s interest and when commercial music saw a backlash due to the takeover of corporate interests, independent acts such as Company Flow, Cage, Copywrite and Atmosphere were considered godsends.

The bittersweet punchline to white rap was the discovery that you could receive mass acceptance for filling a void that had little relation to the black experience responsible for hip-hop’s origins. The Beastie Boys (one of the earliest benefactors of the Russell Simmons/Rick Rubin cosign) were one of the first to stray from pandering to the urban audience, and in turn they have become musical icons through a rebellious energy that eventually won them the staunchest rap diehards as well as the rock crowd.

In an era where record labels typically take years of introduction to debut a new artist, no one knew who Asher Roth was a year ago, yet he’s somehow set to shake up the status quo as we know it. As a figurehead for white hip-hop lovers who bear little to no understanding of black plight, Asher Roth circumvents the course laid down by those fashioning themselves cultural gatekeepers (this author included).  With his race counted as a strike against him and seen as the factor making any possible ascent questionable, Roth makes no concessions to an audience ready to cast him away (picture Barack Obama’s chance of success with a platform strictly catering to African-Americans), yet he’s already met with massive reception from a crowd presumably identifying with the simpler fare of life. His lead single “I Love College” scanned 800,000 units, a sonically light feel good anthem for drinking and partying, hinting all the time of boy band LFO’s “Summer Girls," a cheesy tune that barely qualified as hip-hop.

The same way 2Pac resonated with the souls of troubled black men, Asher Roth speaks directly to suburban kids through rap music. Only his version of it goes so far against the grain of hip-hop’s culture that it’s almost to be questioned whether he actually belongs --  much in the same way that Fred Durst’s rock/rap band Limp Bizkit wasn’t categorized as one of ours. Asher is sure to be found unsettling to most purists as he isn’t particularly clever and employs no aggression in his rapping, seemingly coasting along having become a media darling devoid of ascertainable talent. Steve Rifkind, former chief of the now defunct Loud Records (responsible for the likes of legends Mobb Deep and the Wu-Tang Clan amongst others) has placed his label SRC Records behind the career of Asher Roth and has gone on record claiming the debut album Asleep In The Bread Aisle will change the face of hip-hop as we know it.  Meanwhile, common sense dictates that Rifkind probably recognizes a good business idea when he sees one as SRC’s only major success in its six years of existence has been Akon. With such a heavy marketing campaign behind such a mediocre rapper, it becomes difficult to figure out whether his inclusion in XXL Magazine’s 2009 10 Freshmen (to watch out for) article and cosigns from tastemakers like DJ Drama are corporate machinations or genuine recognition of something “real” hip-hop heads just aren’t ready to accept.

Asleep In The Bread Aisle, released on April 20th (surely no mere coincidence) celebrates the experience of a kid rapping about an easy life of getting drunk, playing video games and being “at the grocery store with hot moms." Vocal comparisons to Eminem are inevitable, but Marshall Mathers fought hard to get respect and is generally considered one of our greatest lyrical assets aside from the goofy pop singles that assure his record sales, while Asher Roth doesn’t come close to qualifying for consideration amongst today’s finest wordsmiths. Though he asks not to be compared on “As I Em," it begs examining whether Asher would exist if Eminem didn’t take an extended hiatus from rapping, much in the way we’re prone to questioning whether Shyne would have had a career if the Notorious B.I.G. wasn’t murdered. In the end, he may antiquate the argument that “realness” within hip-hop is only to be associated with hard times and struggle, rather than rappers being honest about that which they know best, but his remembrance will likely be the friendly image that we’ve been force fed rather than being worthy of the hype and acclaim he is presently enjoying.