Josh Witt: Causations of the Chicago Hip-Hop Subgenre "Drill"

Steve Pulaski's Foreward to "Causations of the Chicago Hip-Hop Subgenre "Drill:" Since I met him my freshman year of high school, Josh Witt has stood by me to listen to all my nonsensical ramblings, my opinions on various films, my deepest, most personal thoughts, my needless bitching and moaning, and my consistent pestering. He is the most loyal person I know, extending a hand, or at least an ear, whenever I need him, and one of the most intelligent people I have come to know. He's so intelligent, I often question why he even bothers associating with someone like me, much less for all four years of high school. In addition to being one of my best friends, Josh, despite his frequent affiliation with science, math, and other things I cannot even begin to comprehend, is a very good writer, excelling at English classes and writing things more thoughtful than the schmuck who (a) runs this blog and (b) is majoring in the field. Despite writing three blogs on Chicago rapper Chief Keef, the "drill" subgenre of music, and the Glory Boyz Entertainment (now known as "Glo Gang") rap label, Josh has created a more thoughtful, engaging thinkpiece on the aforementioned subjects in one piece than I have in a trilogy. Without anything to add, I give you one of the most intriguing reads I have had in a blue moon.

Hip-hop and rap has a reputation for brazen lyrics and subject matters that deviate from idyllic Norman Rockwell-esque American fantasies, however most rappers don’t go as far to publish murder threats within their songs, as Chief Keef did in his recent hit Love Sosa, proclaiming: “Disrespect them O Boys, you won’t speak again boy”. Such lyrics aren’t uncommon for Chicago rappers, though. Since the advent of the 2010’s, a droning, practically mumbled rap style has gained traction within the high schools and streets of urban Chicago. Coined as “Drill” by local rapper Pacman, the style has received national exposure due to the signing of Keith “Chief Keef” Cozart by the rap label Interscope. His lyrics, along with other prominent rappers of the Drill movement, are often described as “gritty”, “violent”, “realistic”, and “nihilistic”. The rappers and the songs that they create glorify violence and the gang lifestyle; lyrics that reference gang allegiance and make threats to rival gangs are exceedingly prevalent. This lies in sharp contrast with previous Chicago acts, such as Twista, Common, and Lupe Fiasco, whose ideologies typically leaned towards “conscious hip-hop”. At first, the evolution from “then” to “now” seems jarring; it appears inconceivable to have a scene that historically criticized violence morph into one that delights in it. Digging deeper however, causes for this shift in musical styles are apparent and characteristic of the city it belongs to. The prominence of the Drill style of hip-hop is a result of the nature of Chicago itself; a disparate hip-hop scene allows for experimentation, the industrial past of the city contributes to artists who value hard work, and the highly segregated neighborhoods of Chicago has led to smaller hip-hop communities congregating around the city. 

Before addressing Drill, it is important to define what can be considered the “then”; “conscious rap” is rap which addresses and is critical of the violence and problems characteristic of urban life. Kanye West, perhaps the most notable Chicago rapper, especially early in his career leaned towards socially conscious themes in his music, such as in his song “We Don’t Care”, a track that sarcastically takes pride in “drug dealing just to get by”. Even more influential than Kanye West in the “conscious” genre is Brooklyn rapper Talib Kweli; known for both his solo work and his collaboration with Mos Def in Black Star, Kweli is famous for politically charged lyrics that condemn the misogyny and homophobia present in much of hip-hop. He isn’t particularly fond of his label of being “hip-hop’s conscience” though. In an interview with Melissa Locker of Time magazine, Kweli says “I’m specifically saying that I can’t or that I don’t want to be pigeonholed [referring to his album ‘Prisoner of Conscious’]”. Kweli brings up an interesting point, even artists who lean more socially conscious in their lyrics don’t want to be labeled as “conscious rappers”. Kweli does so because he doesn’t want to be artistically limited; he’s an artist with a musically diverse discography, and yet he seems to feel trapped by his consciousness, thus he’s dismissive of the fact that everything has to be labeled; “[‘Prisoner of Conscious’] alludes to the perception that has been sold to people by the media and the industry. Things have to be put into neat little boxes to be packaged or sold” (Locker). Nevertheless, Kweli is not about to embrace violence or misogyny in his lyrics to avoid being “pigeonholed”. In fact, rappers who write with semblance of a moral compass distancing themselves from what typically is considered “conscious rap” benefits the realm of responsibility in hip-hop. Rappers speaking their mind about morals and ethics need not be labeled as “conscious hip-hop”, nor should themes form a genre by themselves.

Drill, on the other hand is the “now”. While the style of hip-hop received attention incredibly quickly, the genre was years in the making. While it received it’s fame with the popularity of Chief Keef, artists in Chicago’s rougher neighborhoods have been making their antiphonal hip-hop since 2007 (Drake). The subgenre is notable for its droning lyrics that fully embrace and glorify gang culture and violence. Songs usually discuss hot topics such as flaunting wealth obtained through drug dealing, sexual triumphs, and threats of violence directed towards rival gangs. Until recently though, it never received any recognition because Chicago has a comparatively disparate hip-hop scene. Sure, artists from Chicago have made it big, but like Kanye West, they typically left the city in order to do so. And a unified sound had never been attributed to the city, the absence of any rules or precedence in Chicago hip-hop allowed for experimentation on the parts of artists. Indeed, Drill has little resemblance to the mainstream hip-hop heard on the radio. New York Times journalist Jon Caramanica mentions that, “It’s a surprise that Chief Keef is beginning to gain traction because there’s strikingly little room for what he does in the hip-hop mainstream…”(2). Another prevalent Chicago artist, Chance the Rapper, sonically bears little resemblance to Chief Keef, but like the Drill artist, he’s used the lack of Chicago scene to cultivate a style of hip-hop that doesn’t fit in with the mainstream “party hip-hop”. The lack of attention given to these artists is what has allowed these derivative styles to exist.

Notable to the hip-hop scene in Chicago is the concept of “crews”. Whether Chief Keef’s “Glo’ Boys” or Chance’s “Save Money” nearly every individual artist is supported by a larger crew. Composed of both musicians and technicians, these crews democratize producing hip-hop because artists can go to their friends in order to produce music (Drake). These grassroots communities lower the barrier for entry in the hip-hop realm, and allows for more impoverished artists to get their work out. The presence of these crews is one of the more positive elements of hip-hop in Chicago, the idea of being successful with one’s friends is very authentic to hip-hop, and their presence is another factor that lets young people produce hip-hop. The low barrier of entry that self-promotion on the internet and presence of communities of crews creates further allows artists to experiment. The chanting lyrics of Drill were undeniably born of crews of emcees, producers, and “video guys” leaning on each other to create a grass roots style that resembled little the hip-hop that was created outside of these insular communities.

Historically, Chicago has been lauded as a land where men succeed by the sweat of their brow. The poem Chicago by Carl Sandburg lifts up Chicago as the working man’s city, as the “City of the Big Shoulders”. Truly, the people of the Midwest are those who embrace labor and hard work, and the hip-hop community is no exception. Since the industry is dead in Chicago, artists who want to make a name have to do so themselves through self-promotion. The rappers of Chicago view hip-hop as a full time job, and participants in a study conducted by Geoff Harkness repeatedly stressed the value of a strong work ethic. Known as “hustlin’” the interviewees described a desire for success, and especially in Chicago, most of this work had to be done without external help, due to the lack of an established hip-hop scene (Harkness). This hard work is shown both on the streets, as artists go to live performances and get there name out, but also on the internet. Hip-hop culture is very internet savvy; promotion through Facebook, Soundcloud, and Youtube is naturally a large medium for exposure, and as such the Drill scene leans predominantly young. Artists are teenagers or young adults who would be familiar with these mediums of exposure.

In the Drill movement especially though, self-promotion goes beyond getting one’s music out to the public, but it also involves cultivating an image for oneself. A leading authority on the effects of social media in youth cultures, Desmond Patton suggests that, reeling from retreat of manufacturing jobs in the city, the archetype of the urban male had a crisis of self-image. The internet and hip-hop gives men a platform from which they can express their masculinity and success. In addition, because the urban male has been typecast as a thug or criminal, they’ve responded by embracing their label (Patton).  As such concept of “authenticity” is inseparable from the streets. If an artist raps about being tough, they’re expected to actually be tough. Because the lyrics of Chicago artists in the Drill scene so often talk about their gang exploits and opulent lifestyles, they have to prove it to their audience. Chief Keef has numerous music videos that depict him and his crew brandishing weapons and smoking marijuana. This proclivity among rappers comes from the desire to stay authentic, and avoid “selling out”. Respect is just as much a currency to the artists as money is. To these men, their career not only involves making music about what they live, but then proving that they live it. 

Given Chicago’s nature as a highly segregated city, the presence of niche musical styles such as Drill which appear to be incongruent with the past becomes reconcilable. There was no evolution from conscious Common or Kanye West style rap to Chief Keef Drill, instead they developed independently in neighborhoods where artists were isolated from the nexuses that created the former two acts. The nature of Chicago’s defacto segregation means that different neighborhoods might as well be different cities entirely, and as such they produce completely different music. The success of previous acts may have motivated young men in Chicago’s poorer neighborhoods to turn to hip-hop as a means for success, however, Drill appears to take few musical cues from its predecessors. The segregation was noticed by Frankie Knuckles, a paragon of Chicago house music, saying, “The white kids didn’t party with the black kids” (Drake). 

Social and class stratification plays a dramatic role in the type of hip-hop that artists are given range to create. Simply put, being better off financially allows for more artistic freedom. George Harkness found a correlation between rappers with college degrees or other middle/upper-class indicators with claims of artistic purity (12). Ideals and motivations for making rap changes with the socio-economic background of the artist. Because artists write about what they know, those who come from a life where crime is prevalent will write about crime. Chief Keef came from Englewood, one of Chicago’s poorer neighborhoods, for example. Contrast this with Kanye West, whose mother was an English professor and pushed him to go to college (albeit for only one year) (“Kanye West”); or with Chancelor “Chance the Rapper” Bennett, who attended Jones College Prep High School, one of Chicago’s premier schools. The lyricism and criticism of the streets that the latter two artists demonstrate is born of their relative affluence compared to Keef. The Drill movement, born of the rough streets, cares little for being seen as soft. Little importance is placed on clever lyrics, Drill is about proving your street cred, not about proving your wit, because that’s the quality that’s valued among young men in intercity Chicago.

The issue with Drill as it stands is primarily its glorification of violence. Rappers make up today’s heroes. Whether they are cognizant of the fact or not, rappers will be emulated by the youth who look up to them. Certainly, the rappers rap about their lives and they’re “authentic” in that sense, but in its reverence of violence, Drill further perpetuates the problems that these artists grow up with. Growing up with violence however, does not mean that an artist has to approve of violence. Talib Kweli, mentioned earlier, is a respected rapper who doesn’t approve of the violence he sees in the city. His and Mos Def’s song “Definition” condemns violence among rap in the city. Or consider Washington D.C. emcee Sa-roc, her song “Lost Sunz” is a self-proclaimed love song to living in the Ghetto. She however, doesn’t embrace the violence in the ghetto but the strength of the people who live there. In fact, the track is explicitly critical of gang rivalries, disparaging that “There’s plenty beef, but they don’t keep it on a plate.” These artists have used their platform to advance their ideals, a noble endeavor that few Drill artists can claim to have done. 

Hip-hop, as a youth dominated culture, is not static. The state of hip-hop has changed nationwide, just as it’s changed in Chicago. As a whole, hip-hop has become more than “gangsta rap” that glorifies gang life and culture, however, the art still has a record of being unfairly demonized by society. Certainly, Drill does revere negative aspects of the intercity life, it may have a hand in perpetuating the violence and crime, but it did not create the violence and crime. It was born out of the desperation on the streets; Drill is a child of the neglected art culture of hip-hop in Chicago, it’s a child of the torn down albeit pragmatic men of the city, it’s a child of the segregation and disunity present in Chicago’s hoods. Naturally, one might not be happy to see violence be lifted up on a pedestal, but these rappers rap about what they see: the violence created the drill, not the other way around. Ironically though, the music may be a way to help reverse the crime: as the musical style evolves (and it has to, youth and counterculture movements are certainly not conservative) more artists will hit the stage and promote their ideas. While murder threats and gang call outs are common place in Drill, they don’t need to define it. The musical merits of Drill can stand on their own, and as long as young people continue to idolize their heroes, rappers will continue to exercise considerable influence. Art has a history of inspiring social movements and being used to spark change, unfortunately, in a genre as liberal as Hip-hop, Drill has failed to live up to its expectation. The portents of change are on the horizon though, artists such as Chicago emcee Rita J with her single “The Dough” are beginning to take elements of Drill and use it in more constructive hip-hop.