The Basis for the Basedness
It was a little weird when Apple released their onslaught of cryptic press over finally landing the rights to all of the Beatles’ music. They may have, in fact, created too much hype, as the advertisements suggested that Steve Jobs was set to announce that he had signed Lebron James, legalized marijuana, or done both. Many fans had the same reaction once the news was revealed: Doesn’t Best Buy have the White Album already? Don’t I have the White Album already?
What Apple was trying to access, however, were the deep nostalgic recesses of their older customer’s minds. They didn’t care about the seventeen year old who hasn’t paid for a song since 2002- they were reaching out to his parents, specifically the ones who screamed and cried and dated Japanese girls and altered their entire outlook on life because of four lads from Liverpool. Beatlemania seems to be something so unique and powerful that no one in his twenties or thirties should really try to describe it. It seems, though, like the closest thing our culture has to the orgasm-aneurism hybrid that the band consistently produced is the way someone reacts today when their soul has been saved in front of a congregation of hundreds.
To Jobs and company, tapping into that religious devotion meant huge numbers on iTunes. In the opening week, they sold almost half a million albums and over two million individual tracks. Some customers were undoubtedly first-timers, but it’s likely that the strength of those huge figures came largely from die-hard fans that ached to have a new experience with their old idols, even if it meant buying additional copies of music they’d already memorized the words to.
It was another brilliant move by the company that stays winning, but one person has actually harnessed collective nostalgia on an even larger scale. Ironically, his name is Brandon McCartney. Most of us know him as Lil B.
What makes Lil B unique is not that he’s capitalizing on nostalgia- reunion shows and ‘best-of’ albums do it all the time- it’s that the nostalgia he taps into is not based in actual events of the past, but rather emotions and experiences that have never happened to any of his fans. He is offering an experience that for his fans, growing up in this generation has prevented them from ever having. It’s genius.
Modern hip hop fans have not been deprived of talent or variety, but we been deprived of unity, which in turn has deprived us of wild fanaticism. Every corner of the industry seeks to separate us into increasingly narrow factions. Sean Price recently told all Kid Cudi fans to kill themselves; Wiz Khalifa presents us with becoming a Taylor or dying as our only options, albeit more lightheartedly; seemingly every MC has joined some sort of collective with a with-us-or-against-us mentality that simplifies life for them, but makes it very hard for fans to like artists with conflicting ideologies without appearing uninformed. Additionally, the aforementioned folks at Apple have contributed to a shift in how we build our musical identities. We don’t all tune in to the same radio station; we plug ourselves in to our own private collection of music that is different from everyone else’s. We’ve become hip hop snowflakes.
These things are apparent to most everyone. We have all sacrificed commonality for a greater level of self-expression and access to information. What’s less apparent, though, is how the industry’s fragmentation has prevented us from ever being swept up in a movement so large that we stop becoming fans and morph into fanatics.
At first glance, Lil B seems like the artist least suited to capture us in this way, mostly because Lil B is an amalgamation of every bad hip hop cliché. His verses are the basest extreme (no pun intended) of hip hop’s dregs: atonal, comically scattered, and rife with detached misogyny. Everything about him is hilariously- but consciously- vague. His self-appointed status as the Based God seems to entitle him to whatever he wants to be entitled to at any given moment. He has passion, but no thesis; a deep “appreciation” for women, but no specific stories of either love or sexual conquest; his physical appearance is only distinct in that he apparently can shape shift: some days he looks like Ellen Degeneres, on others he looks like Jesus Christ (which sets him up nicely to be Bill O’Reily’s new least favorite rapper. You’re off the hook, Cam).
Just as important as the ambiguity of his identity, however, is the fact that his music is, in the traditional sense, not good at all. The music he currently makes is such an enormous downgrade in sophistication from his days with The Pack that he might be the only rapper to ever launch a comeback that yields exponetentially greater success with remarkably shittier music. But this, combined with his lack of a detailed identity, is the crux of his likeability. Show me a rapper with tons of talent and an interesting story, and I’ll show you tons of people who hate him. This is partly due simply to differences in taste, and partly due to the hyper-individuality that has become so pervasive among hip hop fans. Lil B does not have to navigate these obstacles, however, because there is little argument over the quality of his music, and even less about the merits of his personality. Without these two factors, fans are left with much less dividing them.
Simply the absence of specificity and lyrical prowess, though, is not enough to get you millions of adoring fans- it’s exhibiting these qualities despite the fact that your fans know you are capable of much more. From his stint as the unofficial spokesman for Vans, Lil B has proven that he can, in fact, rap much, much better than he currently does- and this is why everyone is so comfortable with liking him. Without his previous years, he would either be seen as a foolish flash-in-the-pan, or something much worse: a lifeless parody of everything people point to when they claim that hip hop is dead. The fact that he previously had success with a much higher level of hip hop, however, makes this entire phase of his career somewhat tongue-in-cheek.
That is the Beauty of Lil B. We don’t have to feel guilty about worshipping someone who raps poorly and acts bizarrely, because we know that that behavior is the product of a concerted effort to be that way. To facilitate this lack of inhibition, the Based God has structured his fan base the way a religious evangelist would. He accepts any and all fans (and more often than not, shows each of them some love on his dizzying number of social networking pages), and in return for his openness he merely asks that everyone call him God and blindly, passionately hang on every statement he makes without running it through the gauntlet of rational thought.
And we love it, because, deep in every hip hop fan rests a desire to access the inner Beatlemania that has been oppressed for so many years. Mired in a culture that rewards us less for loving something than for not really liking anything at all, we are all dying to feel the religion and the mysticism that was so central to older generations of fans, to go to a concert dressed in a chef’s outfit and bawl our eyes out and throw our girlfriends on stage as a barbaric sexual offering to our musical idol. And ideally, he would be genuinely humble despite his façade of immortality, thanking us for our presence as much as we thank him for his. And, if possible, we’d like to go back to our discerning, rational, blogging selves in the morning.
And the Based God knows our desires, so that is exactly what he grants us.
In the Church of the Based God, this mystical world of ambient noise and non-sequiturs, nothing is at steak. For once, all we are required to do is show up with love in our hearts and swag in our souls. To older generations it may seem like buffoonery, a pathetic facsimile of what it truly meant to obsess. But those people worshipped men; fans of Lil B are worshiping the act of worship itself. Fortunately, his disciples could care less about how they’re perceived. If there’s one common thread throughout the history of fandom, it’s that the grown ups just never understand.
so why can’t he just make good music like the beatles did during beatlemania? it seems a little too much to compare a group considered to be musical geniuses and this kid. i mean i know you’re not comparing their musical talent, and I get that its about fanbase/love/swag/unity, but what makes the discerning fanbase of rock (during the Beatles) different from hip hop heads now?
the beatles were never considered to be musical geniuses they even admit themselves that they barley knew how to play instruments when they started. it was mainly women and young girls who liked them in the begining, because your parents would’t mind u listening to them because they were radio/tv friendly unlike someone like say elvis. they blew up in the early 60s along with the Hippie movement around 65 -66 they started to change due to their influences making more psychedelic style rock. that and john lennon’s “more popular than jesus” statement shifted the way the media looked at them, making parents very angry, which made the hippies love them. imagine if bieber or the jonas bros started taking drugs(acid) and actually started makin good music. the reason ppl like lil b is the same reason they like tyler the creator jimi hedrix and emeniem the man has BALLS. he says what he wants and on top of that he is always positive and doesn’t judge ppl. btw im 21 and a huge beatles/basegod/of/jcole/wiz/jayz/canibus fan and i dont fuck wit soulja boy or bricksquad or none of that garbage but then again who am i to judge them to each is his own. stay based not biased.
Lol @Dougan 1500 words and you still missed the point.
if we’re comparing beatlemania to basedmania, why does Lil B get to surpass all the obstacles the Beatles had to go through? (like creating actual music, and keeping it up) Is/has there been another genre with someone who is absolutely awful at creating music, but has a cult following anyway?
I agree with a lot of the article, but I’d like to play devil’s advocate on one issue.
B’s overwhelming output over the last two years, perhaps disregarding traditional quality control in the process, is one of the most commonly mentioned reasons I see in use as support for him. At a glance, it looks like B just uploads everything he ever records for public consumption. And maybe he does, but it’s clear he’s not aloof of the fact that his output far surpasses that of his contemporaries. I get that it’s his way of acknowledging how quickly we have to process information and entertainment in the digital age; that it’s almost overwhelming at times. It’s a left-of-center approach, so I applaud his attempt to at least buck the norm.
But how much weight does that justification for the large volume of crappy music out there he’s responsible for carry? Given the eclectic palette he’s exhibited through his beat selections, it’s clear he’s not ignorant to different styles of music or opposed to hopping from one musical genre to the next when constructing his music. All the knowledge of something in the world, however, doesn’t give you a free pass to churn out junk, even if you’re fully aware that it’s sub-standard quality.
How many Lil B fanatics have also renounced the likes of Jay-Z or Nas for “falling off” or “not being able to rap anymore”? The logic that B has shown to be a great rapper in the past excuses the trite nature a lot of his present music projects seems contradictory. After all, Jay-Z and Nas have both shown in the past they’re capable of rapping. Who’s to say either one of them is electing to not rap up to their former abilities the way B is?
I guess the question then becomes, “Can Lil B sustain this momentum if he chooses to start distributing more technically sound records?” Right now, I feel like he’s this rap outlier who’s built part of his following because of how superficially terrible a lot of his music is. I’d be interested to see the fallout from him doing less stream-of-conscious music.
Alex: While I understand what you’re saying about Lil B’s lack of a quality filter, that’s not really something I address in the essay. To me, Lil B’s better music certainly doesn’t negate the fact that what he’s making is subpar by my personal standards. What is interesting to me, though, is not my subjective interpretation of his music, but rather the sizeable fan base that Lil B has built largely of people who wouldn’t normally love someone like him. While I recognize that I’m only one person, I have never come accross a Lil B fan who has anything bad to say about the likes of Nas or Jay-Z, and this unlikely intersection of hip hop heads is one of the things that prompted me to write the piece in the first place. I completely agree with you that knowledge alone does not give you a “free pass to churn out junk”, but the fact is that a remarkable number of people have, in Lil B’s case, actually decided that it does. The people I know who have been to a Lil B concert or actively listen to his music would not be caught dead supporting Soulja Boy or anyone else like him. That’s what makes Lil B so interesting to me.
Dougan: It was my hope that this piece would answer the exact question that you just asked in your second comment. In short, I think that Lil B enjoys the following that he does because of the way that his unique qualities facilitate the kind of musical idol worship that a jaded generation of fans have been prevented from tapping into for the better part of their lives. What makes this generation different from the discerning rock fans that you mentioned is that, for all of the reasons I discuss, today’s musical culture rewards indifference much more than wild passion. Lil B provides a safe haven where unfettered joy is not only accepted, but expected, and fans have responded positively to that environment.
Is/has there been another genre with someone who is absolutely awful at creating music, but has a cult following anyway? Or is only hip hop subjected to this shit?
this piece is hilarious, because it perfectly opposes all that is lil b by way of being well-written (good shit), but supports his shitty ass music.
still think it sucks that hip hop is subject to such shit..and ur right, seems like the only reason this dude blew up is a result of the ‘hater’ culture we’re all subject to. he sucks, and he knows he sucks, but he doesn’t care…and everybody loves that he doesn’t care…he’s made his career based (ha) solely on SWAG. and the word ‘swag’ sucks lol.
good shit though
SWAG SWAG SWAG
FUCK STEVE HARVEY
“Bitch i’m a real n*gga with a 50 inch dick, A-list model/Bitch you can suck my dick”
There must be a better way to recreate Beatlemania for our generation…
i think “superficially terrible” hits the nail on the head. at first glance, lil b is just a stream-of-consciousness soulja boy with better beats (boards of canada, bitch!) but the more you listen to him and his frenetically weird & prolific output, the more you realize that he has something going on. yes, there’s a lot of “hoes on my dick cuz i look like [insert name here]” but that’s really not the raison d’etre of his work. it’s a silly in-joke, a bizarre inversion of the standard mumble-rap tropes. but the real things that get me: a 40-hour mixtape filled with songs about how he fervently believes he is orange juice! the maze of contradictions inherent in his work, lines like “somebody tell the earth i’m the best now/somebody tell the ocean i’m the best out/somebody tell the trees i’m here now/somebody tell the world i’m based now”! a beatless ambient spoken word album coming from a kid who’s had waka flocka features! the unabashed positivity & earnestness at a time when it’s the height of cool to be insincere & ironic! how can you not be #based?
(anyone who’s not a lil b fan yet should really read some of the stuff noz has written over at cocaineblunts about him)
-alex
Lil B is interesting. As intergalactic # said he is a soulja boy, i agree with that. But he is right, theres something about him that makes him i think, less soulja-boyish and as intergalactic # said, “has something going on”. Coming from me, I would say it’s his style and that he isn’t such a pop kind of hip-hop-er like Soulja is that separates them. Also his beats are more chill. That may be while people are intrigued by him. Let me say, he is not my favorite but he sure is interesting to listen to. Great writing piece as well.
- Claudia