White Boys Rapping: Station Conversation

Love, cats, Facebook, Harry Potter, quantum mechanics — if it’s something that comes up on the Internet, undoubtedly someone has laid down some phat rhymes about it. But how much is too much? Today, Jill Weinberger and Liz Shannon Miller take on one of online video’s favorite genres: the White Dude Rapping.

Liz: My dear! Are you ready to rummmmmble? The question is — has white boys rapping in online videos hit a saturation point? I mean, good things have definitely come of the genre…

Jill: …but you sort of get that comedy fine line between time-tested trope and cliché. I am sort of reluctantly in favor, though. The sophisticate in me says find a new format already, but then there’s always some new thing that pops up and amuses me despite my better judgment.

Liz: But does it amuse you because it’s actually something fresh and new, or because it’s playing on old tropes?

Jill: I think the white boys rapping field is actually split into two camps: There are the ones whose comedy is solely derived from the juxtaposition of white boy and rap, and then there are those who are genuinely using the rap as a way to exercise their creativity, much as any other rapper would do.

I mean, if you’re just some white guy wearing a chain and saying “yea’ boyeee,” then I would agree that you are just basically comedy lameness. But for the latter camp, the white-boy-rapping convention is just a springboard.

Liz: Do you have any examples of the latter?

Jill: Well, you know I’m fond of Mean Kitty, and that’s really about the content and the clever rhymes and the cute cat, and not so much about the comedy of white-boy-trying-to-be-gangsta.

Liz: But are Mr. Safety and his ilk really free of that burden? No matter how clever your lyrics are, you’re still treading in someone else’s garden. And why are there so many white boys rapping online, while in the world of actual rap the only ones of note are Eminem and Vanilla Ice?

Jill: I think the world of rap is still pretty closed to white rappers, which is probably one of the reasons recreational comedy rapping is rampant among white boys. They can’t play legitimately, so they kind of mess around in the kiddie pool.

Liz: “The kiddie pool” is an interesting way of putting this, because you’re right, these shorts aren’t getting Diddy on the phone with an offer of a record contract.

I think I’m just really really tired of the use of the juxtaposition. “Oh, rap is the coolest, most hardcore thing you can do. So it’ll be funny if I rap about my cat.” I don’t deny that it can be executed well. In fact, some of my favorite comedy shorts have a rap element. I just think that the Internet can only take so much before it just flat-out explodes.

Jill: Well, I think online comedy video, by its very nature, trends toward oversaturation of genres/tropes/etcetera. There’s always kind of too much of everything, frankly. And then your bar for enjoyment gets set higher and higher.

Liz: Does it? These days, when I watch the latest WBR video, I feel the same way I feel when I watch a silly Jason Statham movie: embarrassed by how easily I’m pleased.

Jill: I guess I’d feel a lot more comfortable telling the white comedy rappers to eff off if I could point to a fresh and innovative new wave of comedy and say, “Go do that.”

Liz: But in the same way that reality TV is crowding out fresh and interesting new programming, I worry that the easy joke of WBR is suckering even comedy powerhouses like College Humor out of creating that innovative new stuff.

Jill: I think people see a lot of stuff that’s out there and think, “I can do that, as well or better.” Sometimes they’re right, and sometimes they’re wrong, but because it’s now so easy to shoot something and put something up, there are a lot more of people wanting to jump in. Which is not a bad thing, it just means there’s a LOT out there that is just sort of “pretty competent,” and you need to sift to find the extraordinary.

Liz: So let’s make a decision. If we cannot stop white boys from rapping, perhaps we can curtail what they are allowed to rap about?

Jill: This falls into the whole queen-of-the-world decree-making scenario, of which I am always a fan. What would you outlaw as subjects?

Liz: Well, we probably can’t say “the entire Internet,” but after Facebook Gangsta, I am prepared to say that social networking sites are done.

Jill: Fair. I can agree to that.

Liz: What else?

Jill: I would say anything that is pure gangsta, with no new content, just for the sake of a white person being nasty. AKA anything from Bo Burnam to Natalie Portman. They are amusing but played out.

Liz: Yes, though I do have this perverse fondness for Bo Burnam.

Jill: As I have for the Natalie Portman rap.

Liz: Part of me really wants to make an exception to any rapper who accompanies himself on a Casio keyboard.

Jill: Hah. Also, you have to actually rap well. Just rapping for the sake of being Caucasian-ly incompetent, á la Screech on Saved by the Bell, is ooooollllllddd. As proven by my very example.

I’m trying to think of anything else that should be forbidden rap material… Anything about being white?

Liz: That’s a good call.

Jill: White and Nerdy being the exception, obviously, as Weird Al gets to do what he wants.

Liz: What about romance?

Jill: I liked when Daryl “Chill” Mitchell rapped the Shakespearean sonnet in Ten Things I Hate About You, but that’s all that I can think of.

Liz: Well, Daryl “Chill” Mitchell is black. Black people are allowed to rap whenevers.

Jill: I’m sure they’ll be glad to hear that.

Liz: I figure that after 400 years of racial oppression, it’s the least I can do.

Jill: You’re a sport.

Liz: Hey, they invented rapping, and they did a damn good job of it too.

Jill: True dat.