Manifesto by Dorian Weekes
Everyone has a story, and even as we grow individually, our stories retain a uniform base. We are born, and as we mature, we develop character, ability, and psyche like adding layers to the steady hum of a metronome. Life is a continuity of song; music tells our story. I perceive the perilous lifestyle of Compton as I listen to Kendrick Lamar’s The Art of Peer Pressure. “Rush a nigga quick and then we laugh about it / that’s ironic ‘cause I’ve never been violent, until I’m with the homies”.
My verse is an impulsive stammer – a freestyle. My actions are abrupt, and I often ignore consequence, which is evident in my sporadic rhymes and bad judgment. These lyrics are raw, uncensored, and the deepest meaning is usually hidden in the simplest slang. When I say, “don’t toy with the vessels”, the connotation is of my failed attempts at love. My music is always inspired. Rarely, can I jot lines without a muse. Music is expression – a lofty reveal of personal views.
· I believe music is the sole ever-evolving, universal language, and is a bridge between the past and the present, connecting the Ancient Egyptians and Seoul. Hip-Hop is derivative of Jazz and Blues which emerged as West-African slave traditions developed in America.
· I believe music, in an absolute form, is an extension of the soul. Artists reveal their emotions in their medium, and by opening ourselves to one another, we can better understand and accept each other.
· I believe music is therapy – a realization of kindred spirit. I can connect with other artists by reading their lyrics, and realize that I am not alone on my train of thought. In my music, I am free to release my emotions and inhibitions too.
When they are genuine, lyrics are like the double-helixes of which we are composed. They flow through our bodies like hemoglobin, and replenish our vital organs. Sincerity, however, goes hand-in-hand with vulnerability. When we open ourselves, we are susceptible, and nearly defenseless, to criticism. Cynics manipulate our words, and take advantage of our amiability. The same vulnerability yet is the means by which we connect. Lines can be exchanged, and adapted, and new life can be brought to the words.
I am less critically judged through the medium of music. People believe everything is blatant, and often only listen to, and do not understand the music. I like to look at the lyrics while I listen to a song because sometimes words get lost, like the bass breaks the line. The opening of Chum by Earl Sweatshirt is inherently me. “It’s probably been twelve years since my father left, left me fatherless / and I just used to say I hate him in dishonest jest / when honestly I miss this nigga like when I was six / and every time I got the chance to say it, I would swallow it”.
I see my dad once a year, in a dingy room with a friendly guard nearby, surrounded by other chain gang members also meeting with their families. He was once my muse. I hatched hate on the paper, then crumbled, and threw it away. Music can create many different emotions – animosity, love. It is artistry. Artists use wordplay, and even trademark noises to construct their portrait. Music is their parallel; music is a way of life.