Every human being struggles with the concept of identity; vacillating between how we perceive and how we are perceived by others. These permeating thoughts characterize the active conscience, and are a part of everyone’s life.
When I was still in college, I had this running word document saved on my desktop. Throughout the year I would save down famous quotes — quotes I used to help keep me motivated and focused. After I transferred, I kind of lost track of it, so when I went to find it I just did a simple search for “quotes.”
What I found was kind of startling. It wasn’t my beloved quote list, rather an old English paper I wrote while I was at the University of Wisconsin. For whatever reason (let’s be honest, I probably just got lazy) I titled the paper “Quotes.” The first sentence was what you see at the top of this post.
As you can tell, I’ve always had a knack for bullshitting. I blame myself. I blame my environment (my dad’s a really great lawyer.) Bullshit aside, at the heart of that sentence lies a very discernible truth; we all struggle with our identity.
What is an identity? Is it a brand? I’ve always been brought up to believe an identity was a byproduct of one’s passions. Like many of you, I have a lot of passions, and like yours, mine always seem to be changing. Naturally, it’s been hard to hold on to any “one” particular identity.
When I first started making music seriously, I struggled greatly with calling myself a “rapper.” This was mainly due to the stigmatism that was associated with it. For the most part, I had a difficult time calling myself a “musician.” If people asked, I told them “I make music.” Commercially viable hip-hop preaches a few things, I’ve noticed — a very specific lifestyle. The reason I’ve been reluctant to embrace it is because, historically speaking, I’ve enjoyed far too much of it. Retrospectively, I find a lot of fault in it. You see, I enjoy being productive, in any facet. I like waking up early in the mornings. I like doing great work. I like being a #boss.
In late 2013, theatlantic.com posted this article. It sided with Kendrick Lamar’s management, who pulled Kendrick out of a last minute appearance at the GQ bash due to what TDE Records called “offensive” remarks that contained “racial overtones.”
The quote they were referencing ran in GQ as follows:
Kendrick doesn’t smoke weed or drink booze. In the time I spent with him, I never witnessed anyone roll even the thinnest spider leg of a jay, nor did I see Kendrick so much as glance at the many, many girls around him.
The backlash was real. Again, Kendrick was slated to perform at GQ’s annual bash after having been named GQ’s Man of The Year. Within the waning days leading up to the event, “Top Dawg” yanked him out of their as retribution. The Atlantic made a very simple point, to the tune of “why would you assume it remarkable that Kendrick Lamar doesn’t drink booze or smoke weed? Because he’s a “rapper?””
On a completely unrelated note, “Swimming Pools” was a great song, wasn’t it?
Some people argue that artists are observant and simply regurgitate the life that they see around them. At the end of the day, it’s just another instance of someone struggling with their own identity.
Entertainment has always been a business of illusion. It’s a system that’s a tad corrupt, but like all business, it’s driven by sales. The best way to sell it seems, is to appeal to the largest group. Do you know what sells in the Music Industry? Sex, drugs and Alex Frecon*. It’s the “live life like there’s no tomorrow” creedo that people find so freeing. It’s capitalizing on a particular identity that a mass audience associates with.
Often we talk about what we see, but there are also times that we talk about what we want people to think we see. Where Kendrick falls on this spectrum is up for debate, but I’m inclined to believe he is simply stuck somewhere between having his own identity and wanting to fit in with another. There is the general “idea” about what a rapper does, and it’s so powerful that when someone points out that it’s not actually the case, you’re castigated for thinking that in the first place.
I got some really great advice when I first started out. Advice I never was able to put into action. I can’t recall the time or the place, but the message is burned into my mind:
“Alex, you sound like you’re making music for other people. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s fine, but you sound like you’re making music you think people will like vs what you actually like. The second you start making music that you like, the second your music will start getting better. That’s what’s in the way of your music being great.”
What is an identity?
An identity is a voice, and I think a voice is always destined to change. Our job is not to ensure that our voice will always be the most popular, rather our job is to continue to ensure that our voice is our own. Our job is to make sure it’s the voice that wakes us up in the morning and the voice that helps us fall asleep at night. If I have seen a fraction of success in my life, it’s because I have done work that resulted from this voice. Even in my failures, the moments where I’ve stuck with my voice have been all the more bearable.
Too often in life we sacrifice who we are or what we feel for what we think is the most popular. In short, we’re just trying to fit in. I do it, Kendrick Lamar does it and chances are you do it too. In life, you’ll never be able to fully control how people define you. The only thing in this life that you can control is how hard you try to define yourself.
So do yourself a favor and take the advice that I still can’t seem to. You’ll be better for it.
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