I’m Gonna Need a Check From You, Macklemore

Em Casalena
5 min readJan 28, 2016

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I thought it was over. I thought Macklemore’s fifteen minutes were up, but he just keeps coming back.

Macklemore (also known as Ben Haggerty) released a new track this last Friday that was all over my feed. After listening to about 20 seconds of his voice before turning it off, I sat in thought. I came to realize, really, that Macklemore makes music for straight white people. And that’s really okay. It’s his business, his brand, it’s his audience. For a split moment, I came to the conclusion that it’s alright because it’s not Macklemore’s responsibility to make music for anyone but his audience. However, that conclusion didn’t hold for long and I was left with an even more chilling realization.

Macklemore makes music about being present where others are oppressed and steals their narrative, and people eat that shit up. Unfortunately, they don’t eat up non-white, non-straight people making (better) music about their actual experiences of oppression. The numbers don’t lie — Macklemore has made a fortune and a career off of Same Love. It’s likely to happen again, this time using people of color, after his self-flagellating song White Privilege II’s release. Macklemore, my friends, makes people feel the perfect amount of self-reproach. He makes people feel included and safe and like they have an anthem for being a little bit socially aware. He has given them their LGBTQ Activism Zero, their Diet Black Lives Matter. It isn’t too ugly, too in-your-face, with just a tiny squeeze of guilt (but no more) and an acceptable white face to help people feel like they belong in a time where so much focus is on those people. He’s a voice for the casually interested observer. Who wants to donate to a trans person’s medical fund or go to a show featuring queer artists when they can spend their money and time buying and listening to Macklemore’s mediocre, cringe-worthy albums?

Perhaps I am being a little too harsh. Maybe Macklemore isn’t just in it for the paycheck. Maybe, in his own way, he’s just making a living doing what he loves. Maybe he really does care, but he’s helping in the wrong way. The problem lies more in the culture of Macklemore and fans of Macklemore. But I’m also sure not every fan of Macklemore is a terrible person, though I’ve yet to be impressed.

Macklemore.

In the early days of coming out as a pansexual woman, I remember a conversation I had with a straight person a long time ago about this very subject. For the sake of being civil, I won’t discuss it in depth. When it comes down to it, I said that Macklemore and his fans made me uncomfortable. I was mad that the support and money being thrown at him was massive while little to no talented queer musicians singing about the same things have garnered his level of success. I thought, perhaps wildly out of line, that he should dedicate money to help out the queer community instead of doing dumb shit like forgetting to thank the lesbian that contributed to the song he got an award for about gay rights. (Look it up, I watched it happen live with my own two eyeballs.) To my dismay, I was met with, quite simply, being told that Macklemore is incredibly talented, he deserves every last penny he has and that I should appreciate any help I get.

Let’s break this down, cause I really wish I broke something down when I heard that gross statement. (Thankfully, that toxicity machine is no longer in my life.)

Macklemore is talented.

Macklemore’s legitimacy as an artist has been challenged often, most notably by queer rapper Le1f, who claimed that Macklemore ripped off his song Wut. This is hugely debatable, as most song-stealing accusations usually are. I can hear similarities. But I also don’t need to be convinced that Macklemore steals music to dislike his music. I don’t believe he can spit and I don’t think his subject matter is tantalizing.

Macklemore deserves every last penny he has.

Maybe the idea of someone using a group’s history of oppression to make money and then sharing some of that wealth with the group to help them with the whole not having proper sex education and that “getting killed all the time” thing is really unreasonable to most. But at a growing net worth of $18 million that came not from talent or skill, but from writing a song about witnessing homophobia (though not experiencing it) strategically during heated times in recent history, he could throw a few bills towards keeping us alive and unharmed.

Any help towards the fight is good help.

This statement, stripped down, honestly, is violent. It is a violent, empathy-lacking, solving-not-a-single-problem statement. It takes consent and power away from people. It is bad.

There are some people that seem to think “This thing? It isn’t helping us. In fact, it could be hurting us.” is a personal attack that’s meant to be met with “I’ll help you however I damn please and you better appreciate it.” This comes from the most insidious of savior complexes; the one where a voice is silenced, told it is wrong, from someone who would know absolutely nothing about that particular oppressed experience. They have no interest in the queer voice or the black voice. They feel disrespected when we don’t want their insufficient “help”. They want to help in a way they deem fit, even if it doesn’t help at all, because it is easy and it makes them feel good. These people terrify me, because there are many of them and they tend to be manipulative folk.

Macklemore may have made a sort of hymn for the LGBTQ movement at the time of its release. I know a lot of queer kids who absolutely hear Same Love as a validating anthem. It is beautiful to be validated. Some, even, say that the song helped them deal with suicidal thoughts. Beautiful. Maybe in that way, Macklemore has saved lives. But imagine the power a young queer kid would feel if he could hear an anthem of strength from a talented, successful queer person? Imagine if that music was on the radio and easily accessible? Imagine if our allies stopped drinking LGBTQ Activism Zero and helped us give those artists the exposure and success to become mainstream and thus chip away at homophobic and transphobic mainstream culture?

In the end, what needs to happen is visibility. Our stories need to be told. Our skill and talent needs to be showcased. We need to be the voice of our own movement. We will do the job better than someone else. Always.

Dude owes me a check.

If you like this article, then please hit ❤ and share with others.

Have some great tracks by LGBTQ artists for your earholes:

Banks is fucking ridiculous and very problematic, I acknowledge that. Please don’t kill me.

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Em Casalena

I'm a writer, editor, and music journalist. Also a big fan of herpetology and sustainability. 🌱