Turn My Mic Up:
Hip-Hop Isn’t Dead, Just the Female MC
2008-10-24
By Ronda Racha Penrice
At the BET Hip-Hop Awards, there was not one female rapper nominated.
Unfortunately, that’s not an oversight since, truthfully, there are no female rappers of note to nominate. This stark reality makes the female rap medley featuring MC Lyte, Yo-Yo, The Lady of Rage and Salt-N-Pepa especially bittersweet. Their ability to still command the stage after all these years draws even more attention to the disappearing female MC.
Since these ladies came to rap prominence, hip-hop has expanded considerably. From coast to coast, state to state, there never seems to be a drought of young men picking up the mic. It’s not that some women aren’t trying. The problem is the standards have changed. It would be unfair to blame it all on Lil Kim, Foxy Brown and Trina but it’s hard to deny that these women have played a significant role in sexing up female rappers. A male journalist friend once tagged Lil Kim “a lyrical porn star” and I can’t say that I completely disagree.
There’s nothing wrong with celebrating female sexuality but it’s quite a different story when it’s used as a crutch. What endeared us to Salt-N-Pepa in particular was that they were average fly girls: not overly sexed, but not unladylike either. Hip-Hop resonates for a lot of listeners because, at the end of the day, most of the guys on wax are djays trying to make a better way. Female rappers too often miss that mark. And it’s not always their fault.
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Who would know how good a rapper Shawnna, the one-time female fixture in Ludacris’ Disturbing Tha Peace camp, is? If all you hear her rhyming about is licking someone from their head to their toe or sandwiched in between a hook of “getting some head” then it’s a little hard to imagine her bringing something more to the table. And the truth of the matter is, in a live setting, she is more than capable of grabbing the mic in a crew full of guys, in a room full of guys and blowing her competition out the water.
I personally blame the dearth of female emcees on Lauryn Hill and I know I’m not being completely fair. As much as I love The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, she had a tremendous opportunity to alter female rap history. Never before had guys beckoned a female member of a group to go solo and Ms. Hill, they all agreed, flowed better than Wyclef or Pras. And what did she do? Make an album with more singing than rhymes. Can you imagine what would have happened if Lauryn Hill came out and hit us with a female equivalent of Nas’ “Illmatic”?
It’s distressing that hip-hop’s rise has been accompanied by the muting of our young, female voices. On the red carpet of the BET Hip-Hop Awards, when I pressed her about the dearth of promising female voices in the rap game, Salt theorized:
“I think that a lot of women get caught up in a man camp and they end up doing what they think is expected of them. And it’s easy to get caught up in that because it’s such a male-dominated field. You almost feel like you need that crew around you. Record companies, they like to put out what’s already sells and what’s already out there and so it’s kind of hard when you have something to say to get put on basically. I’m sure there’s a lot of women out there that have something to say and they might play their music for whomever and they’re like ‘naw, we need you to drop it like it’s hot’ so it’s just difficult.”
If I could resurrect the female MC, please believe me I would. Not for myself. But for the young ladies growing up like I once did. At its best, hip-hop really does speak to you. It can inspire. It can diffuse anger. When used responsibly, it can even serve as therapy. Our young men still have their voice. Why have we been so content to let our daughters lose theirs?
Ronda Racha Penrice is a former Associate Editor of Rap Pages Magazine whose hip-hop related articles have appeared in The Source, Vibe.com, Urban Network and Creative Loafing, among others. She is also the author of African American History For Dummies.
