#23: Jason Chu, “This is Asian America”

There is a long and contentious history of Asian Americans in hip-hop and rap. Beginning during the Black Arts Movement of the 1960s and 70s, Black music was often a response to the community’s experience of pervasive inequality and prejudice. New music was shared during gatherings and block parties in areas like the Bronx, where DJs who had grown up during the peak of the Black Arts Movement were coming into their own. These DJs were experimenting with extending the “break,” otherwise the high point of the music with a strong rhythmic pulse that b-boys and b-girls (break dancers) could dance and show off to. At the same time,  MCs and DJs were also innovating the genre by remixing, layering, and rhyming over the music they played on their turntables at local block parties and gatherings. Asian American participation in hip-hop increased significantly in the 90’s. Inspired by their Black counterparts who were using rap as a medium to speak about racism and oppression, Asian American college students formed rap groups like Asiatic Apostles at UC Davis and Yellow Peril at Rutgers. Slowly, Asian American DJs and MCs began garnering attention, and now many Asian American artists are participating in hip-hop from Anderson .Paak and Jay Park to Awkwafina and Bohemia.

By the turn of the century, Asian American hip-hop artists were finally being recognized for their work. The first Asian American Hip Hop Summit was held in LA in 2001. But as more musicians entered the scene, questions of authenticity and appropriation arose. Asian American artists do not fit the mold of traditional hip-hop artists. Whereas hip-hop is typically associated with a more edgy, hypermasculine aesthetic, Asian Americans are typically seen as submissive, unproblematic, and expressionless. In particular, Asian American men are often emasculated and seen as non-threatening and non-sexual which goes against the generic hip-hop brand. This is one possible explanation for why Asian Americans are seen as outsiders in hip-hop, often subcategorized to Asian American hip-hop rather than just as hip-hop artists regardless of whether their music explicitly addressed racial elements or experiences. Beyond issues of authenticity, it’s also important to discuss possible issues of appropriation.

Over the past few years, artists like Awkwafina have come under fire again and again for putting on a “blaccent” — using African American Vernacular English (AAVE) — for performance purposes. Many take issue because while Black performers are scrutinized and punished for their use of AAVE, artists like Awkwafina are able to profit off this aspect of Black culture. Issues of authenticity run deeper than just the use of AAVE. Even international stars like Korean rapper, Changmo have faced criticism. Changmo compared his hometown, Deoksori, to Harlem in a rap and many listeners clapped back insisting that the privileges that Changmo was afforded in Deoksori are incomparable to life in Harlem. While some are quick to deny and defend themselves against these accusations, this issue brings up important questions about who belongs in hip-hop. As an artform that originates from Black culture and expression, Asian American participation in hip-hop is cultural appropriation in that it is a reinterpretation of hip-hop that deviates from its original context as a music produced by Black people about Black life and Black issues. In recent years, talk about cultural appropriation has equated it with theft without permission or understanding. But cultural appropriation need not always be viewed as a purely problematic phenomenon. The appropriation and recontextualization of an artform can give way to novel interpretations that push the boundaries of what defines the genre of hip hop. The propensity for hip hop to grow and evolve by continually pushing the envelope and subverting listeners’ expectations gives hip hop new life and room for further evolution.

The question then becomes how can Asian Americans participate in hip-hop, uplifting both Black and Asian American communities without causing harm. Perhaps the answer is less black and white than both artists and audience members are willing to engage with. But a step in the right direction has been made by artists like Jason Chu who continue to listen and engage with those who critique both his music and more generally, Asian American presence in hip-hop.