“Rap Is Something You Do. Hip Hop Is Something You Live”

By Sheri Broussard

The grey fog of dusk falls in dewy droplets on the gritty sidewalk of First Street in downtown San Francisco. A medium built man with white skin, large blue eyes, and thick curly brown hair, picked out into an Afro, walks down the street towards an alley. He bobs his head back and forth to the sound of scratching records and old school disco beats from his Cut Chemist play list on his black mp3 player.

He turns the corner and frowns as he looks down a dark alleyway of Jessie St. Looking to the left, he catches the scent of chlorine and watches thick brown bubbles swirl down an iron grate. Moving to the sidewalk, he walks past dirt covered windows and beat up black doors until he finds the Mezzanine. Keeping his fingers crossed he approaches a clear ticket booth window and glances in the face of a middle aged woman with long black hair and brown eyes.

“Is the show sold out,” he asks in a quiet voice. “Nope,” she answers shaking her head, “I have a bunch of tickets left.”

Red lights beam into the black interior of the Mezzanine. Scott Knopf walks up to the large black stage where large speakers are blaring jazzy Latin beats. He places a smooth hand directly on the stage and closes his eyes as the music begins to pound into him.

The club begins to fill with young faces of many colors. Knopf looks around to notice he is surrounded by many people who look like him but as he looks to the stage he notices that most of the rappers are black.

Knopf, a 22-year-old cinema major at San Francisco State University, began listening to hip hop as a teenager. He grew up in the area surrounding Monterey, where he could only tune into three radio stations that play country, Mexican and rap.

“For me it’s just weird because you are listening to music made by a group of people for a group of people and I’m not a member of that group at all,” he says with his eyebrows raised, “I mean, I was poor but I was white and we had pigs and chickens and a farm. I should have turned to that country station if we were going with stereotypes.” Fans of the underground say the music itself defies stereotypes because there is a split between mainstream rap and hip hop. Originally hip hop came out in the 70s and was a meld of disco beats and spoken lyrics, according to Knopf. As music progressed hip hop became rap, while gangster rap became popular on the radio, causing a void that most fans and artists will say is between the industry and true hip hop culture.

“In an open-minded area like San Francisco a lot of college students are not gonna want the mainstream anymore,” Knopf said. “Once I heard underground hip hop it took me back to a children’s story. It’s a break away from the main stream, it’s a break away from what the big record companies are shoving down your throat.”

The sound check is almost done as artists begin to crowd the back stage and three men in black shirts and jeans begin to bring out eight sets of turntables and microphones.

Knopf is smashed to the front of the stage as the crowds come closer to the stage and start cheering as the scratching of Cut Chemist fills the air, followed by the loud rhymes of Lyric’s Born and the smooth conversion of rap and singing by Jurassic Five. A tall blond man wearing a red hat and black pullover windbreaker throws his arm around Knopf and cheers as Dilated Peoples comes on stage.

“Oh my god,” he shouts in a thick British accent, “These guys never perform in England! This is the best show ever.”

Knopf shrugs away from him and replies with a short “yeah.” Knopf begins to nod his head as he raises his hand up in the air, moving it up and down to the music.

The sweat from the performers splashes onto his face as they crouch down low and rap into their microphones. Knopf’s Afro bobs as he raps along with the lyrics to “Back Again.”

Evidence, a member of Dilated Peoples, watches as Knopf shouts every one of his rhymes back at him. During the chorus he points at Knopf as he shouts into the mic.

“This cat right here knows my lyrics better than I do,” he says as he angles the mic down toward Knopf’s mouth.

“Like I ain’t smoke weed no more but ain’t smokin’ no less,” Knopf says with a crinkle in his fore head and motioning with his hand.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about,” Evidence shouts with a grin as the crowd cheers Knopf on.

Source List: Scott Knopf, SFSU Cinema student/lab tech, (415) 574-7762 Aries Nunez, Distortion to static host, (415) 509- 7931 Zoneil Maharaj, Editor In- Chief of Oh Dang! magazine, (209) 471-1544