At the decks the master himself produces the music using two recordplayers on which the records are played backwards and forwards, the master starting and stopping them ruthlessly with his thumb and index finger. This technique probably leaves lots of smears, but it also produces the distorted, hectic rhythm, that gave the effect its name. Scratch, scratch, scratch it says.

[Ved discjockeybordet leverer mesteren selv musikken fra de to grammofoner ved at lade pladerne køre frem og tilbage i samme rille idet de skånselsløst bliver startet og stoppet med tommel og pegefinger. Det giver sikkert masser af pletter, men det giver også den forvrængede, stakåndede rytme, der har givet effekten sit navn. Scratch, scratch, scratch siger det.] (Jensen & Mandal 1984)

It is noticeable how the very need for this kind of explanation along with the remark on the smearing of the records illustrates the unfamiliarity of deejaying. And the same may be said about the critic’s use of the English word ‘scratch’ in Danish (see the original Danish quote), which underlines the foreign origin of the phenomenon.

The setting where the concert took place were an established rock club called Alexandra Rockteater [Alexandra Rock Theatre], and it is interesting to note how this staging of rap music in an established rock music venue is in a certain way mirrored in the coverage of the event. That is, a coverage carried out by established rock critics in Danish popular music magazines and newspapers – just as the concert with Herbie Hancock was covered by critics specializing in jazz. Taking this into consideration it is not surprising, that rap and scratch were described more as a new means of expression in jazz and rock (or genres considered as subcategories of rock, e.g. funk or pop) – even more so, than as indications of a rising genre in its own right.

Seen in retrospect it was the established rock critics, who kept covering hip hop and who came to influence Danish hip hop criticism. In the early years commented on so far it would, however, be more precise to talk about an inclusion of rap music within a general field of popular music criticism, rather than it being evaluated in its own right. A field, constituted with the emergence of rock criticism in the late 1960s in which demonstrations of knowledge about new means of expression were part of a general quest for status.[3] However, since rap music was generally unknown among Danes in the early 1980s, the critic’s demonstration of knowledge may at this time be seen in their ways of describing and not least their level of detail in (re)presenting the news. Some critics supplemented the sort of description outlined above with historical, sociocultural and aesthetic accounts of the described phenomena’s origin in the USA, as explified by this review of Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five:

Rap has since the dawn of time been an integrated part of black music. From the Church’ call-and response it was transferred to for instance soul, and in the 1960s Joe Tex (“the rapper”) was among the best at adding small spoken storeys (“raps”) to the musical message. Thus, rap is not, as many apparently think, something new […]

[Rap har siden tidernes morgen været en integreret del af sort musik. Fra kirkens call-and-response overførtes det blandt andet til soul, og i tresserne var Joe Tex (“the rapper”) en af de bedste til at fylde små talte historier (”raps”) på det musikalske budskab. Rap er altså ikke, som mange åbenbart tror, noget nyt […]] (Bennetzen 1984)

This account seems knowledgeable  – with its explicit statement of the relative novelty of rap depending on historical knowledge about the phenomenon. Such accounts not only informed readers. They also illustrate, that some critics were themselves being informed, they had to rely on interviews with American artists and writings in American music magazines. As such we may consider the level of information demonstrated a matter of intertextual relations, that is, of having access to sources from which to draw elaborate accounts of the news.

At the same time, it could be argued that critics with a seemingly lower level of knowledge could be regarded as simply not having the access to foreign (or for that matter Danish) experts. And so they had to rely on their own (limited) experience – as in this example from an established jazz critic’s reluctant encounter with scratch on Danish national radio:

LAST week the radio magazine Jazznyt (‘Jazz news’) introduced us to a new discothèque fad called ‘scratching’. It turned out to be an exceedingly thorough introduction to an exceedingly uninteresting subject.

[I SIDSTE uge præsenterede radiomagasinet Jazznyt os for en ny diskoteksdille ved navn ’scratching’. Det blev en overmåde grundig indføring i et overmåde uinteressant emne.] (Rabinowitsch 1984).

Other sources of personal experience were attendance at the aforementioned concerts. Here is another quote from the first review cited above:

Rap-rap-rap-rap. Steadily the audience shouts the name of the new music fad from the homeland of Donald Duck and Uncle Scrooge, rap-music.

[Rap-rap-rap-rap. Publikum råber taktfast betegnelsen på den nye musik-dille fra Anders And og Onkel Joakims hjemland, rap-music.] (Jensen and Mandal 1984).

It may in this latter example be noticed how the humorous relation of the ‘new music fad’ to ‘the homeland of Donald Duck and Uncle Scrooge’ along with linking rap music to the US also plays upon the Danish onomatopoeia for the sound of ducks: ‘rap’ (equivalent to the English ‘quack’). Thus, to a Danish reader relating rap music to Donald Duck creates a comical connotation to the description of the audience shouting ‘rap-rap-rap-rap’. In this way the concept of rap music is partly introduced with reference to a familiar Danish context leaving it with a curious and somewhat exotic meaning.

This kind of relatively “uninformed”, humorous exoticism marks an opposition to the seemingly knowledgeable (historic, sociocultural and aesthetic) explanations drawing on foreign sources, discussed above. And the ascription of value to demonstrations of information continued even as rap music lost its novelty in Denmark.  Instead of the basic notions of rap, scratch, breakdance etc. we may note a persistent introduction of new terms in relation to hip hop – denoting artists, places, activities, fashion, generic subdivisions etc. These later introductions continued to rely on intertextual relations, which were, however, increasingly sought on an institutional level. This is especially apparent when the Danish media re-printed articles on hip hop bought from American magazines (e.g. De Curtis 1987, Bradley 1988, King 1988) or sent their critics on ”pilgrimages” to report from their encounters with American hip hop culture, e.g. in New York, proclaimed as ‘Hip hop city’ (List 1988/89).

These tendencies are most frequent during the late 1980s and early 1990s, around the time that a group of Danish fans started to gain positions in the music press, illustrating yet another strategy for institutionalizing intertextual relations between hip hop criticism and sources identified as representing (a first hand knowledge of) hip hop culture. This development is seminal in the emergence of a field of hip hop criticism, as will be explained in the following. Here I just want to point out, how Danish fans employed as critics supplemented the Danish media’s need for foreign sources when covering hip hop culture. We may even talk about a suppression of this need, in so far as Danish fans were seen as local representatives of the culture in a global sense. I return to this issue below.


Negotiation: Specifying the ”real rap”

As the breakdance fad of the early 1980s started to fade in late 1984 so did the general enthusiasm surrounding rap music and thus media attention vanished as well. Accordingly it was a couple of years before the next wave of public interest formed, from around 1987, and this time media coverage increasingly took place under the generic heading of hip hop.

What drew the genre back to public attention – from a fairly small group of persistent fans – was the breakthrough of American new school rap in Denmark with concert appearances by Run-DMC, LL Cool J, Public Enemy among others, along with the release of the first Danish language rap albums by Mc Einar and Rockers by Choice. This rather late release of Danish language rap albums was according to artists at the time due to a lack of sufficient English language skills to render a satisfying expression compared to American idols, while rapping in Danish seemed contrary to the origins of the genre (Skyum-Nielsen 2006, 69-71).

The renewed attention led the Danish media to employ critics with a specific knowledge about hip hop. These were the fans just mentioned, or to be precise: A group of critics either identifying (and identified) as fans or with personal acquaintances within the persistent groups of Danish fans and aspiring artists. Their specific knowledge about hip hop was thus derived from a personal interest in and on many occasions engagement with hip hop – not often as artists but from managing, arranging concerts, forming record labels etc. Apart from Jeppe Bisgaard, whom I return to below, prominent examples were Michael C.U.P. Rasmussen (1973-), who started his career making hip hop radio shows while simultaneously arranging concerts; and Rasmus Poulsen (1977-), who worked as a program developer at Danmarks Radio [Denmark’s Radio].

The engagement of this group of critics during the late 1980s and early 1990s is both an indication that and a reason why hip hop, around this time, became a topic of critical interest in its own right. And thus we may start talking about a specific field of hip hop criticism and accordingly a specific discourse constituting (within) this field. There is of course a gradual transition from rap and scratch being described as a kind of rock (as evident in the early coverage) to a conception of hip hop as a genre on its own terms (ranked alongside rock). Furthermore, the fusion of rap with soundscapes traditionally associated with rock by new school artists (e.g. the use of distorted guitars), was surely prolonging this transition, which became apparent in the Danish media in the late 1980s and continued during the first half of the 1990s.

Furthermore, because the field of hip hop criticism was formed within existing media and not solely by personally engaged hip hop aficionados it did, in a certain sense, ”inherit” the norms of the already existing field of popular music criticism, which was, as already noted, founded on covering rock. For sake of clarification we may at this point differentiate two sets of ideals dominating this preceding field: On the one hand a widespread set of journalistic ideals, i.e. the celebration of news already mentioned, though preferably conveyed in a “well-written”, sober or semi-objective manner based on firsthand knowledge of the music in question. On the other hand ideals concerned with aesthetic and/or cultural critique centring on notions of rock as an original art form with a potential for “subversion”. That is, subversion with regard to prior forms of music, within rock’s own repertoire of aesthetic means of expression and regarding its political and socio-cultural circumstances. The development of rock criticism is as complex as the storey of hip hop criticism (c.f. Lindberg et al. 2000 and 2005) and the differentiation of dominant values in Danish rock criticism should, thus, be regarded as the setting up of some rather simplistic points of reference necessitated by the scope of the article. I develop the understanding of these slightly by dealing with their implications in hip hop criticism below.

The mentioned ideals worked to legitimise positions within the emergent field of hip hop criticism – as shall be explained in the following. Drawing on terms developed by Sarah Thornton (1995) I refer to critics accustomed to covering rock at the time of their professional orientation towards hip hop as outsiders, in contrary to the aforementioned writers-as-fans, who are referred to as insiders. However, I would like to stress, that the distinction of these groups is not a matter of critics writing from “inside” or “outside” hip hop culture. It is a matter of personal identification and/or engagement with fans and artists versus a primarily professional, critically detached interest in hip hop. Both insiders and outsiders should be regarded as constituents of hip hop criticism and thus of hip hop culture in Denmark.

Thornton underlines this point theoretically in stating, that the status of identifying with a genre culture – i.e. the possession of subcultural capital (1995, 11) and thus of being an insider – depends on recognition by others not identifying with the genre in question. In Thornton’s description of ravers the value of knowing about club culture is partly defined in opposition to (what is perceived to be) ignorant moral panics in e.g. the tabloid press. In Danish hip hop criticism, however, the value of knowing about hip hop was to a great extent recognised by established agents in the music press (critics but also editors), who were aware of their readers’ interest in news on popular music and their own need for knowledge to supply this news. Insiders were employed to supply this knowledge. I noted this in commenting on the introduction of new concepts above, and thus it should be apparent, that this process is intimately connected to the negotiation discussed in this section of the article.

A prominent insider entering Danish hip hop criticism in the late 1980s was Jeppe Bisgaard (1972-), son of a prominent rock journalist for Danish radio and television but also a dedicated fan of hip hop. Bisgaard wrote an influential section on hip hop in a Danish teenage music magazine, Mix, during the first half of the 1990s, while simultaneously appearing in other media (newspapers, magazines and radio) along with acting as a manager and record label owner. Furthermore, he went on to co-found the first glossy magazine in Denmark specialising in hip hop and electronic music, F100 (1998-99). We may consider a passage from his monthly column in Mix entitled ‘Real Rap’ to illustrate the discursive demonstration of subcultural capital:

Light my peoples! Fire, water, earth, blue lights, 40’s, Øager’s burgers, and that’s to a degree and on that degree of longitude where Jay-B lights up the pen for the Real Rap symphony! Is hip hop a culture, religion or something third …? Can’t we just agree that hip hop is everything!!! Come home tired after a fucked up day. Put on BDP’s ‘Criminal Minded’ and it feels like you’ve just snatched five caffeine tablets and won the Lottery. If one, just for a moment, feels that life is too grey and empty … Cram ‘Style Wars’ in the VCR and let the colours, feelings and movements raise you to a higher level. A huge shout out to Sabe, Sek, Rens, Fae, Bates, Paks and all other graf[fiti] writers, who are sweetening the life of the DSB [Danish public railroad] and the entire Danish population. Let it be known that my ego’s only partially grown … Tickets are sold for the annual ‘Jay-B is a Sell-out’-seminar, this year held in the phone booth on Idiot Street. Usually I’d always be ready with another freaked out, funny comment to that kind of PMS-like ‘earth to your brain, is anyone home?’-comments, but right now I can hardly be bothered spelling F-U-C-K- Y-O-U. Action and words speak lauder than a be-yatch! Did anybody check out Yo MTV Raps when Method Man (who’s video for ‘Bring The Pain’ gets an A double plus on the psycho scale) guested. The man with the right method had the patience of an angel, and he only had to make a couple of remarks faced with Ed Lover’s stupid provocations. Method Man’s debut album is the bomb, but god knows, I’m looking forward like a little child to Ol’ Dirty Bastards solo debut. […] Ol’ Dirty is ready once again and ready to drop his golden rhymes. Another champion of rhymes, cashing in lots of props right now, is Keith Murray from Def Squad, who’s capable of doing abstract rhymes so that the rewind button breaks. [Italics indicate use of English language in the original text – see below]

[Light my peoples! Ild, vand, jord, blålyn, 40s, Øagers burgere og det i den grad og på den breddegrad, hvor Jay-B lights up the pen for the Real Rap symphony! Er hiphop en kultur, religion eller noget helt tredje …? Kan vi ikke bare blive enige om, at hiphop er alt!!! Kom træt hjem efter en fucked up dag. Sæt BDP’s ’Criminal Minded’ på og det føles, som om man har nakket fem koffein tabletter og har vundet i Lotto. Føler man et øjeblik, at tilværelsen er for grå og indholdsløs … Prop ’Style Wars’ i videoen og lad farverne, stemningerne og bevægelserne løfte dig op på et højere niveau. Et kæmpe shout out til Sabe, Sek, Rens, Fae, Bates, Paks og alle de andre graf skrivere, der forsøder tilværelsen for DSB og hele den danske befolkning. Let it be known that my ego’s only partially grown … Der bliver solgt billetter til det årlige ‘Jay-B is a sell-out’ seminar , der i år bliver afholdt i telefonboksen på åndsbollestræde. Normalt plejer jeg altid at være klar med endnu en udsyret, humoristisk kommentar til den slags PMS agtige ’earth to your brain, is anyone home?’ kommentarer, men nu gider jeg næsten ikke engang stave til F-U-C-K- Y-O-U. Action and words speak lauder than a be-yatch! Var der nogen, der tjekkede Yo MTV Raps da Method Man (hvis video til ‘Bring The Pain’ får et 13 tal med pil opad på psyho skalaen) var gæst. Manden med den rette metode havde tålmodighed som en engel og var kun oppe at markere et par gange overfor Ed Lovers dumme provokationer. Method Mans debut album er bomben, men guderne skal vide, at jeg også glæder mig som et lille barn til Ol’ Dity Bastards solo debut. .. Ol’ Dirty er klar igen og parat til at droppe gyldne rim. En anden rimets mester, der høster masser af props nu er Keith Murray fra Def Squad, der forstår at sige abstrakte rim, så rewind knappen går i stykker.] (1995, 48)

This excerpt contains numerable indications of the author positioning as an insider. First and most obviously in the rejection of disrespectful commentators, who have questioned his knowledge about ‘real rap’ (the title of the column) and who are in turn deemed unknowledgeable (‘idiots’). Secondly, a rather high degree of information is expected from his readers if they want to follow his use of slang (e.g. ‘Light my peoples’ or ‘props’) and unexplained references to items, places, events etc. (e.g. the initial ‘blue lights, 40s, Øagers burgers’ – that is, joints, an American malt liquor unknown to most Danes, and a local fast food-restaurant in Copenhagen). Later a reference is given to the old school hip hop-movie Style Wars and ‘shout out’s are made to five ‘graf writers’, referred to by their pseudonyms (‘Sabe, Sek, Rens, Fae, Bates, Paks’). Thirdly, we may notice the use of expressions in English and anglicisms (like the Danish translation of the notion ‘the bomb’ in the characterization of Method Man’s debut album). To a reader of the Danish text both English words and anglicisms are characteristic features, which firmly connect the author to an idea of hip hop as a global (or at least foreign) culture being introduced and to a certain extent localised by a group of informed Danish followers – knowledgeable of for instance Snoop Doggy Dog’s way of pronouncing the word bitch (‘be-yatch’).

Apart from Method Man two artists are mentioned in the excerpt, Ol Dirty Bastard and Keith Murray. And whereas the first is characterised by his ability to ‘drop […] golden rhymes’ (another anglicism in the Danish text) the latter is apparently so good ‘that the rewind button breaks’. What is depictured is the critic constantly rewinding his cassette player to check out the artists’ ability to rhyme and rap, that is, their skills. This focus is on the one hand illustrating a basic interest in how to practice hip hop; on the other hand a general understanding of hip hop as a competitive culture (obvious in the use of sports metaphors, e.g. Keith Murray being a ‘champion of rhymes’). In fact the emphasis on skills and competition goes hand in hand with Bisgaard’s attitude and style of writing in a combined constitution of his position as an insider. He is in a certain way himself demonstrating his skills and posing as a winner throughout the text, thus articulating his own adherence to the values ascribed to good rap music. This is obvious in his assertion, that he ‘lights up the pen for the Real Rap symphony’, emphasizing his own abilities to write the ‘Real Rap’ (and not only ”about” it). And it is equally obvious in the statement that ‘he can’t hardly be bothered spelling F-U-C-K- Y-O-U. Action and words speak louder than a be-yatch!’ What ”speaks louder” are no doubt his own actions and words, specified in this respect as a demarcation of the border between himself as (re)presenting the ”real rap” versus the ignorant inhabitants of ‘Idiot Street’. A final underlining of this identification with (what is specified as) the values of hip hop culture, is his use of the pseudonym Jay-B.

Celebrations of skills, competition and attitude are frequent in insiders’ writings – in their positioning against so called outsiders, i.e. critics with a background in rock criticism. However, since this tradition was not totally homogeneous, both insiders and outsiders could to a certain extent claim it as a source of legitimacy – or to be precise: While outsiders carried established ideals of rock criticism into writings on hip hop, constituting a kind of critical orthodoxy, insiders could to a certain extent ally with some ideals while opposing others. Thus, one reason why critics claiming a position as fans were acknowledged within the emerging field of hip hop criticism was, that their articulation of firsthand knowledge coincided with the aforementioned journalism prominent in Danish rock criticism. According to this tradition critics could be regarded as a kind of reporters, who were to take part in local scenes in order to facilitate reader’s access to music developing within these. I touched on this ideal in dealing with intertextuality as a means of demonstrating (access to) knowledge and thus a way claiming status for critics covering hip hop in the early 1980s. However, by the end of the decade this journalistic ideal offered a certain legitimacy for insiders claiming positions in the music press. At least in part, because it is obvious that insiders’ positioning by way of excluding certain readers (i.e. outsiders) were also to a certain extent contrary to an ideal of facilitating access to new scenes. Furthermore, the journalistic ideals of rock criticism emphasised ”well written” stories leaving readers a clear image of the music in question (i.e. critique as a kind of semi-objective reportage) – again contrary to the rather excessive style articulated by Bisgaard. However, we may point at less excessive or radical insiders playing a key role in claiming a further acknowledgement of the position – their own and those’ more radical – by following established journalistic values to greater length and by seeking other alliances with the aesthetic and cultural critique known from rock criticism.

Insiders playing this role were to a great extent those relying on personal acquaintances among fans and artists, one example being a friend of Jeppe Bisgaard, namely Henrik List (1965-) who made his way in the 1980s from being a critic to editing the leading popular music magazine in Denmark at the time, MM, only to move on in the 1990s to a major Danish news paper (Berlingske Tidende). List emphasised a professional journalistic style of writing while adding an aesthetically reflected edge to the kind of insider account just illustrated. As such, we see the claim of being an insider articulated in a rather more subtle way than was the case with Bisgaard – as in this example, where List implicitly refers to himself as a ”connoisseur” while describing ‘the core of the hip hop aesthetic’ in terms probably unknown to most of his readers:

On the other hand, another guest, the vinyl-virtuoso DJ Alladin, impressed with his outstanding skills at the turntable. […] At this point we reached the core of the hip hop aesthetic, and the scratching, beat mixing and cut-backs made connoisseurs watch with shining eyes.

[Omvendt imponerede en anden gæst, vinylvirtuosen DJ Alladin, med sin ekvilibrisme ved pladetallerknen. […] Her var vi ved hiphopæstetikkens kerne, og der blev scratchet, beatmixet og lavet cut-back, så kenderne fik julelys i øjnene.] (List 1991)

Apart from the rather more subtle underlining of his status as “being in the know”, List shares the emphasis of skills, competition and attitude already pointed out as characteristic of the insiders’ discursive practice. The adherence to these ideals coincides, however, with a kind of aesthetic avant-gardism interpreting competition with regard to skills as a transgression of established aesthetic means of expression and competitive (radical or ‘hardcore’) attitudes as a transgression of aesthetic content giving way to form or expression itself. That is, we do not find List addressing his readers in the radical manner demonstrated by Bisgaard, but we do find a celebration of a similar ‘hardcore’ attitude with rap artists – e.g. Ice-Cube:

The bass sank deeper into the ghetto-darkness, the metallic noise cut its riffs across the evil growling rhythms and the energy pumped like adrenalin through the bodies, as Ice-Cube himself took over the scene […] The audience was taunted, provoked and flattered to scrim, as if Denmark had pounded a goal at Parken [the national football stadium]. Having delivered one of the few and commendably short statements (which other hardcore rappers tend to overdo) on identity, racial conditions, police violence, politics and community, one experienced […] how Ice-Cube is riding the wave of his own potent, fruitful anger right now. A drawing hardcore inferno, a glimpse of a ruthless gangster lifestyle in the ghettos of L.A. and a dogged effort to channel the aggressions into the controlled short-circuits of the music.

[Bassen sank endnu længere ned i ghettomørket, den metalliske støj skar sine riffs på tværs af de ondt knurrende rytmer og energien pumpede som adrenalin igennem kroppene, da Ice Cube selv overtog scenen […] Publikum blev skiftevis hånet, provokeret og smigret til at skrige, som havde Danmark banket den ind til en landskamp i Parken. Efter en af de få, præcise og ikke for lange statements (som andre hard core-rappere har det med et overdrive) om identitet, raceforhold, politivold, politik og sammenhold, oplevede man […], hvordan Cube rider på bølgetoppen af sin egen potente, frugtbare vrede lige nu. Et sugende hard core-inferno, et indblik i en nådesløs gangster-livsstil i L.A.'s ghettoer og en sammenbidt anstrengelse for at kanalisere agressionerne ud i denne musiks kontrollerede kortslutninger.] (List 1993)

Compared to Bisgaard this way of writing articulates a wider range of values known from rock criticism, legitimizing the insider position. It celebrates skills and attitude as expressionist aesthetic subversion, while simultaneously, however, opposing other notions of aesthetic and cultural critique prominent in rock criticism and among its outsider-adherers.

Especially celebrations of popular music as a medium of political and socio-cultural messages seem at stake with List’s position, as illustrated by his appraisal of Ice-Cube for being brief on ‘racial conditions, police violence, politics and community’. This stand marks a clear opposition to a prominent representative of the outsiders, namely Lars Villemoes (1953-), who was among the earliest writers on hip hop in Danish Media – covering the genre for two major news papers, Information and Weekend Avisen, during the 1980s and 1990s respectively. Villemoes attended the same concert with Ice-Cube, though with a completely different experience. He discards the ”hardcore” musical and lyrical expression:

What could have been a racial-political lynch never became anymore than an apocalyptic mush of sound at a volume making your kidneys rattle and your neck hairs split.

[Det der kunne have været en race-politisk verbal lynchning blev aldrig mere end apokalyptisk grødlyd på et volumen der fik nyrerne til at rasle og nakkehårene til at spalte sig.] (Villemoes 1993)

Furthermore, the interest in political messages apparent in this quote is repeated in the final lines of the review, where it is, however, combined with a demand for responsibility along with a disdain for the crowd of Danish ‘rap-enthusiasts’:

But in the hip hop scene’s inner lane he is undisputed the authoritarian schoolmaster for the Danish audience to cheerfully assign […]: Where everyone is alert to signs of racism among other Danes, everybody cheers when it is a black American Muslim, who is exposing his unveiled racial hatred, his joy with violence and weapons, and his fascination with death and destruction.

[Men på hip hop-scenens inderbane er han uimodsagt den autoritære Overskolelærer, som det hvide danske publikum henrykt kan underlægge sig […]: Hvor man er meget på vagt overfor tegn på racisme hos andre danskere klapper man i hænderne, når det er en sort amerikansk muslim, der viser sit utilslørede racehad, sin volds- og våbenglæde og sin fascination af død og ødelæggelse.] (Villemoes 1993)

The implicit claim that rap artists should be judged by their messages (and the responsibility of these) in stead of their skills and attitude are far from what I have pointed out as characteristic of Bisgaard’s and List’s specifications of ‘real’ hip hop. And just as Villemoes is obviously positioning outside the crowd of cheerful rap-enthusiasts at the concert so he is discursively positioning in opposition to their intended representatives in the emerging field of hip hop criticism.

In fact this difference appears even graver when noting, that Villemoes discards Ice-Cube for being not only irresponsible but deceitful in his statements. Ice-Cube poses as a ‘teacher with blood on his hands’, but this is according to Villemoes merely a role staged by ‘a rap industry, who knows how to sell the bad guy’. Cube is ‘hard working’ but, again, skills are not enough:

“HERE in a glimpse Ice Cube is living up to the role as teacher with blood on his hands, that is demanded by his fans and a rap-industry, who knows how to sell the bad guy. But even if he is a hardworking showman with a lot of fist-waving in the air and lot of running from one side of the stage to the other, it does not pay off musically.

[ICE Cube lever her i et glimt op til den rolle som lærer med blod under neglene, der kræves af hans fans og af en rap-industri, der ved hvordan den skal sælge the bad guy. Men selv om han er en hårdtarbejdende showmand med mange knytnæveslag i luften og et større løbepensum fra den ene side af scenen til anden, kniber det med at give musikalsk valuta for pengene.] (Villemoes 1993)

Writing like this implies a fairly traditional sense of authenticity. That is, an idea of the artist as someone, who ought to offer himself on stage – sincerely with regard to his background along with his aesthetic and political visions, unmediated by both skills and commerce. This notion of authenticity is a prerequisite for holding the artist responsible as a source of political messages. Without sincerity such messages could be regarded as merely a matter of putting on a show – and perhaps of “showing off”, that is, the demonstration of skills and attitude celebrated by List and Bisgaard. It is in this respect puzzling, that Villemoes condemns Ice-Cube’s statements on racial hatred, violence, weapons etc. while simultaneously characterizing his performance as merely a matter of commercial showmanship.

The difference between celebrating competition, skills, and attitude versus artistic authenticity and political messages is prevalent – though of cause not the only distinction – in the relation between insiders’ and outsiders’ discursive positioning in Danish hip hop criticism. And I should stress, once again, that both parties legitimise their writings in part by allying with ideals known from rock criticism.

The opposition between insiders and outsiders constituted a field of hip hop criticism from the late 1980s and during the 1990s, and we may in terms of discourse analysis regard the positioning illustrated as persistent attempts to specify and thus distinguish certain understandings of hip hop – good from bad, right from wrong, true from false, etc. In this view positioning by way of specification forms a process of negotiation gradually constituting a discourse on hip hop marked by the conditions of the social field. Both insiders and outsiders contribute to this discourse, which establishes an understanding of hip hop as a specific genre apart from other generic concepts, while simultaneously relating hip hop to already established aesthetic values. There is, as already mentioned, a persistent introduction of new concepts derived from e.g. fans and artists integrated in the process of negotiation, perhaps predominantly by insiders’ writings. Concepts such as new school and old school, the “hip hop nation”, ”street cred”, the ”four elements” (rap, breakdance, graffiti, deejaying), beats, cuts, flow, new jack swing, gangsta rap, horrorcore, crunk, freestyle, battle, props, posse etc. were launched – along with anglicisms such as pose (‘posse’), dizze (‘disrespect’), kork (‘props’), hjemmedrenge (‘homeboys’) – to specify e.g. the historic development, (socio-)geographical location of hip hop culture not to mention its aesthetic means of expression. New concepts were articulated in relation to concepts well known in the Danish music press, whose meanings were thus reinterpreted in relation to hip hop: Concepts, such as skills, attitude and hardcore – to name a few. I have in my examples primarily focused the articulation of different values according to positions in the emergent field, though we may point back to for instance List’s description of Ice-Cube’s music as sinking ‘deeper into the ghetto darkness’ to illustrate how, in this case, socio-geographic specifications of hip hop as ”ghetto music” were integrated in considering its aesthetic values. In fact a general negotiation of where to locate authentic ghettos in Denmark took place in the early 1990s’ critique. Villemoes suggested in this respect the island Amager south of Copenhagen city centre:

The streets of the unemployment-island Amager with the densest hip hop environment in Denmark are spiritually close to the streets, which created American hip hop.

[Gaderne på arbejdsløshedsøen Amager med Danmarks tætteste hiphop-miljø, støder åndeligt tæt op til de gader, der skabte den amerikanske hip hop.] (Villemoes 1993b).

Naturalization: Levels of abstraction in taking hip hop for granted

I turn now to the third process considered in this article, namely the gradual naturalization of specific notions of hip hop and (to a certain extent) the discourse and social field constituting Danish hip hop criticism. By naturalization I refer to a process of recognition, by which concepts and conditions become increasingly familiar, to a point where nobody questions their meaning. In terms of discourse theory (Laclau and Mouffe 1985) it is customary to talk about this process as a closure of the discourse in question. That is a process, where concepts with no established meaning in relation to a given topic are articulated as moments of a certain discourse, inscribed in and thus determined by the structure of conceptual relations constituting the discourse in question. Though a terminal closure is impossible – there is always potential for the introduction of new concepts in the understanding of certain topics – this state is nevertheless acting as a kind of telos underlining the conflictual nature of discursive practice, that is, the way language users always promote certain agendas by relegating new concepts to these. Laclau and Mouffe writes in this respect about a potential ‘openness’ in any discourse due to a semantic overflow from the field of discursivity, i.e. the totality of concepts in any language (Laclau & Mouffe 1985, 113; Howarth 2000, 103). The notion of discursive closure is intimately related to that of hegemony. More specifically, it is understood as what establishes hegemonies. An establishment, which may take place through assimilation or projection, that is, an either affirmative or contradictory relation of new concepts to a certain discourse, a closure by which the antagonisms of new and established understandings are overcome.

It is obvious that linking naturalization to the closure of discourse and the establishment of hegemonies is by implication to consider it part or – to be precise – a telos of the negotiation discussed above. At the same time it is equally obvious that naturalization is a process somewhat opposed to the introduction of new concepts. It is what happens, when specific concepts cease to be unfamiliar. That is, when they appear natural or ”indigenous” due to the establishment of certain specifications within the social field or, to put it differently, due to a gradual change in the overall discourse, that constitute what actors regard as familiar.

The process of naturalization within Danish hip hop criticism involves both insiders and outsiders, since it is their mutual negotiation, which makes the notion of hip hop along with various related notions appear increasingly known. I have already pointed out, how hip hop gradually comes to denominate a specific genre apart from for instance rock, and during the 1990s it becomes increasingly clear, that this understanding is well established among all actors in the music press and their expected readers. This development is most obvious in the disappearance of direct explanations of the concept, that is, a situation opposite to what was illustrated with the introduction of notions like rap and scratch in the early 1980s. In stead we see explanations of new concepts implying a basic knowledge about hip hop.

This basic knowledge is usually of a rather general nature – like for instance the relation of hip hop to the so called “four elements”. And this points to an important condition of the process of naturalization, namely, that it takes place at a rather abstract level within the discourse of hip hop criticism. I refer in this respect to Fairclough’s idea of levels of abstraction in discourses’ representation of social reality (2003, 138). That is, the way a discourse on e.g. right wing politics refers to something broader than a discourse on conservatism or neo liberalism, at least in so far as right wing politics is regarded as an abstraction of these political stands. Applying this idea to Danish hip hop criticism means, that the process of naturalization constitutes hip hop as a kind of ”meta genre” (Shuker 2002, 147). That is, a genre denominating rather general features concerning a broad range of musical expressions, divided by subordinated generic concepts – like new school, gangsta rap, horrorcore etc. in relation to hip hop.

Among the first understandings of hip hop to be naturalised was its relation to rap, breakdance, graffiti, African-American conditions, life in big city ghettos etc. These understandings cease to be explained – except on rare occasions, such as historical feature articles – and perhaps more importantly, so do a number of broader issues. Examples are the understanding of hip hop as a specific and lasting genre concept (as opposed to being a fad), as something which could reasonably be performed by Danes (c.f. the issue of Danish ghettoes), and as something to be taken seriously (versus the initial humoristic exoticism). Generally what is naturalised are specifications of what hip hop is and how to evaluate it. And it should be noticed, that the examples provided derive from both insiders and outsiders – with insiders primarily contributing descriptive conceptualizations of hip hops’ means of aesthetic expression, history etc., whereas outsiders contributed established values due to rock criticism.

This points to the fact that in the case of Danish hip hop criticism naturalization does not mean the overall dominance by any specific party within the field. Neither insiders nor outsiders ever get to fully determine how to understand and evaluate hip hop. Instead negotiation results in the constitution of a kind of discursive common ground, to which certain specifications of hip hop are gradually added, as e.g. insiders articulate values known from rock criticism or outsiders pick up descriptive slang introduced by insiders. It is in a certain sense exactly this common ground which constituted the field in the first place by denominating the interest actors gathered round – even if disagreeing. There needs to be a common understanding, which is taken for granted (an illusio), if we are to talk about a field of hip hop criticism at all.

The process of naturalization is, as already stated, opposed to the introduction of new concepts. More specifically, critics’ introduction of new concepts may be regarded as an aspect of negotiation representing a continual challenge to understandings otherwise considered natural at the time. In that sense introduction and negotiation are exactly what keeps naturalization from being terminal – what keeps it a continual process – and as such, we may consider the three processes as integrated moments within critics’ discursive practise, as claimed at the beginning of this article. This point may be clarified by returning briefly to the idea of different levels of abstraction within the discourse of Danish hip hop criticism. This idea allows one to view negotiation as resulting in the naturalization of a discourse on hip hop in a rather general sense, while crfitics’ specification (and thus negotiation) of the term by way of new concepts (i.e. introduction) is maintained at more detailed levels of understanding. In other words: While critics have gradually agreed on the general understandings of hip hop mentioned, simultaneously they have disagreed on how to explain and evaluate e.g. gangsta rap, the advent of acid jazz, horror core etc.

The continual negotiation at a detailed level of discourse explains why the intertextual relations represented by insiders are not made obsolete by the process of naturalization, even though there are examples of insiders annoyed with the fact that in the 1990s and 2000s hip hop is something widespread and generally well known, something everybody may have an opinion about:

Black Eyed Peas is making hip hop. That is what they say in Urban, or was it MetroExpress? Nevermind, it was something about, if you yourself think its hip hop, then it is hip hop. […] Fair enough, lets call it hip hop and justify it with a review.

[Black Eyed Peas laver hiphop. Det siger de selv i Urban, eller var det i MetroXpress? Nevermind, det var i hvert fald noget med, at hvis man selv synes det musik man laver er hiphop, så er det hiphop. […] Fair nok, vi kalder det hiphop og retfærdiggør det med en anmeldelse. (Andersen 2005)

While the author of this passage is stating her position as an insider, this gesture has become increasingly rare. Even in Danish hip hop fanzines appearing in print and on the web since the mid-1990s there is a tendency to strive for an aesthetically reflected and journalistic coverage, which rarely displays the degree of insider positioning illustrated with Bisgaard above. In contrast, celebrations of skills and attitude have gradually spread among outsiders – as in this example from a review of the rap group Suspekt, published in a major Danish newspaper:

It is the description of a shot-in-the-head, fucked up life of drinking, drugs and violence, where they really step on it, fucking lots of bitches in the ass. […] It is outstanding rap, super-smooth production and – of course – tremendous attitude.

[Det er beskrivelsen af skudt i hovedet-, fucket up druk-, stof- og volds-skodliv, hvor de giver den maks gas og knepper masser af kællinger i skideren. […] Det er fremragende rap, super-smooth produktion og – selvfølgelig - forrygende attitude.] (Drejer 2003)

This example points again to the way insiders’ and outsiders’ discursive practises converge within the process of naturalisation, and it indicates the resulting legitimization which I shall consider in the following.


Naturalization and legitimization outside hip hop criticism

The extent to which hip hop is covered in Danish media reflects diverging public enthusiasm. This was the case with the early 1980s “fad”, the reduced coverage during the following years, and the wave of increased attention in the late 1980s. With the establishment of hip hop criticism we see, however, an institutionalised, lasting attention within the music press, which asserts (and thus maintains) a certain public interest in the genre, despite reductions in e.g. record sales. This is especially evident during the first half of the 1990s, when the popularity of the first Danish language rap groups vanished, causing a significant decrease in the general public attention towards the genre. During this period there was persistent coverage of American rap artists while some insiders played a significant role in covering Danish artists struggling to gain record contracts from a hesitant record industry. When finally a run of Danish language rap albums were issued from 1995 onwards, resulting in a third wave of public enthusiasm, the released artists were directly promoted by insiders (e.g. Bisgaard – who in fact produced some of these groups; c.f. Malk de Koijn 1998 and Outlandish 2001), just as industry and audience had been ”prepared” by the established hip hop criticism in general. Renewed popularity was in other words conditioned by maintained media attention but furthermore, I would claim, by the naturalization of a discourse representing hip hop as a familiar part of Danish popular music culture.

The mid-1990s wave of Danish language rap groups took up the heritage from the groups of the late 1980s, continuing their act of localization for instance by rapping in Danish about their lives as ”hip hoppers” in Denmark. Furthermore the mid-1990s wave (e.g. Østkyst Hustlers, Humleridderne, and Den Gale Pose) laid the foundation for an ever increasing popularity of the genre in terms of record sales – it was in other words not merely a wave. Popularity in terms of commercial success has contributed to eradicate the risk of media attention relapses similar to those of the mid-1980s and the early 1990s. But as noted this risk was already reduced due to the established hip hop criticism.

Furthermore, a persistent attention towards the genre has been fostered by Danish artist’s promotion of hip hop as a means of expression in Danish theatre productions – at the Betty Nansen Theatre, Rialto Teatret, Dansescenen, Avenue-T, The Tivoli Concert Hall along with Aarhus Theatre – and by rappers being acclaimed with literary prizes along with having their ”works” published as poetry. Examples include Malk de Koijn, a rap group who received the so called Maarum literary award in 1999, whereas the rap artist Jokeren had his lyrics published in book form in 2003. In short hip hop has moved gradually into the established ”art world”. A process, which has been paralleled by similar moves into the world of education (with the issuing of hip hop inspired teaching material for public schools; c.f. Fougt 2006) along with national politics. Rappers have officially aided campaigns and political parties releasing rap songs to access new groups of voters. Examples include MC Clemens, a rapper who aided SF [Socialist People’s Party] in 2003 – campaigning with the party’s main candidate, while having an album financed by the party. Another party, Det Radikale Venstre [The Radical Left], issued a rap song expressing the party’s views during an election for the parliament of the European Union in 2004.

These transitions between different institutional contexts within Danish cultural life marks a clear legitimization of the genre, a process which has reached a temporary climax with major Danish rap artists L.O.C. and Suspekt performing at an award ceremony held by The Danish Crown Prince and Princess at the national Opera House in Copenhagen (14 September 2008). Again we may, however, point to the naturalization of a discourse on hip hop by journalistic hip hop criticism as preparing the ground for this artistic legitimization, and this time with a special emphasis on the ”serious”, journalistic and aesthetic understanding constituted by this discourse.[4]

The invitation of L.O.C. and Suspekt to perform at the award-giving is particularly noticeable in this respect, since these artists have been among the most radical in Danish rap in terms of sexist language, celebrations of alcohol, drugs, violence etc. (as implicitly illustrated by the review cited above). Whereas L.O.C.s albums are usually labelled stodderrap [bastard rap], i.e. a Danish version of American gangsta rap, Suspekt are practising something closer to horrorcore. They are among the best selling rappers in Denmark but simultaneously they have been involved in broad public controversies over radical rap music in the Danish media.

Characteristic of these controversies is a concern among both adherents and opponents of radical rap music with the issue whether this kind of expression can be reasonably enacted by young Danes – that is, youngsters with a very different social background compared to their (imagined) African-American counterparts. In this respect we see a replay of the positions within hip hop criticism illustrated with the 1993 evaluations of Ice-Cube’s performance and the behaviour of Danish fans: What is in one perspective defended as a mere demonstration of skills, attitudes, and a radical aesthetic expression to be interpreted freely, is from another perspective condemned as irresponsible, as spreading potentially damaging messages, and as inauthentic (i.e. out of sync with Danish conditions). Adherents of the first position have predominantly been the artists in question, whereas the latter position is taken up by agents with a rather more distanced relation to hip hop – some prominent examples include editorial writers at a major Danish newspaper, Berlingske Tidende (Redaktionen 2003) and a widely read, middle-aged, novelist and declared feminist, Hanne-Vibeke Holst (2004). As such we may consider the public debates surrounding radical Danish rap music as a clash between insiders and outsiders similar to the polarization established within hip hop criticism and (to a certain extent) mediated by the naturalised discourse within this field. In fact, it is exactly the way hip hop criticism reflects, institutionalises, and negotiates a clash present in cultural life at large, which makes it in my view capable of constituting a discursive repertoire applicable by agents outside the music press. The institutional conjunction of insiders and outsiders characteristic of hip hop criticism could in this respect be regarded as speeding up the discursive processes discussed above, although these may be found in other contexts connected to a broader range of hip hop cultural practices (concerning musical style, clothes, body language etc.). This would explain why hip hop criticism seems to precede the constitution of an understanding of hip hop in Danish cultural life at large.

In this respect, what is notable is perhaps not, that the negotiation of radical rap within hip hop criticism is replayed in a broader context of public debate, but in fact that this has happened so infrequently. This raises questions about yet another aspect of the naturalised discourse on hip hop in Danish hip hop criticism, namely its level of abstraction. As noted, different levels of abstraction within discursive practice allow for a naturalised idea of hip hop as something aesthetically valuable alongside a relegation of disputed (e.g. radical) articulations of the concept to related, sub generic notions such as stodderrap. However, the scarce public debates surrounding even radical rap music would seem to imply, that even these expressions have to a certain extent been naturalised. I would in this respect, once again, point to naturalization as a kind of joint venture, and in this respect the way it legitimates new concepts by relating these to established values, eventually changing the overall discourse within the field. Thus, when even radical Danish rap artists are widely accepted by the Danish public – and embraced even by the royal family – it illustrates, how hip hop criticism along with fans and artists have gradually changed established views on evaluating popular music, and thus the specifications of what is considered natural and legitimate within Danish popular music culture at large.


Concluding remarks

This article discusses the establishment of Danish hip hop criticism and its role in legitimizing hip hop culture in Denmark. This establishment may be viewed as the persistent introduction, negotiation and naturalization of a discourse on hip hop in the Danish media, gradually constituting (within) an emergent field of hip hop criticism. By way of these processes what was initially considered new concepts of dance, musical expression etc. gradually take on a familiar meaning, to a degree where exoticism and an obvious sense of hip hop as something foreign is replaced by a treatment of the genre as a natural part of Danish popular music and culture.

The gradually naturalised discourse represents the joint venture of so called insiders and outsiders. I have used the former of these notions to denote critics identifying or closely associated with hip hop fans and artists, representing a personally engaged idea of hip hop culture. These writers are an important source of new concepts, and they are to a great deal legitimised in the context of journalistic hip hop criticism by firsthand access to the musical community. The ascription of journalistic value to fans’ writings along with the demonstration of certain strategies of aesthetic evaluation constitutes a position opposed to more thorough upholders of ideals dominant prior to the advent of hip hop and closely related to Danish rock criticism. Because hip hop criticism forms on the basis of an already established tradition of popular music criticism, and because even insiders’ legitimization derives from allying with trends within this tradition, what is being negotiated within the field is to a great extent how hip hop may be understood using already established terms of evaluation. However, due to insiders’ writings the importance of skills, competition and attitude as means of artistic expression are emphasised over the importance of e.g. sincere and responsible messages on behalf of the artists.

The process of naturalization implies a kind of common ground spanning the opposition between insiders and outsiders. However, what is naturalised is only an understanding of hip hop culture at a certain level of abstraction, and one may talk about a relegation of negotiations to subgeneric notions such as gangsta rap or the Danish equivalent: stodderrap. What is striking about the reception of these radical brands of rap music both within criticism and in a context of broader public debates, is the way hip hop criticism appears as an institutionalised arena providing a discursive repertoire for the broader public, thus diminishing the chance of moral panics. A reason for this may be the way critics’ naturalised discourse relates hip hop to established values while simultaneously changing the critical establishment, removing thus potential frights of the unknown. Furthermore, I suggest that hip hop criticism played a rather direct role in preparing the final breakthrough for Danish rap music in the 1990s and supporting hip hops’ move into public spheres of art, education and national politics. Again the main reason for hip hop criticisms’ effects in these respects seems to be its naturalization of hip hop on Danish grounds. A naturalization, which implies, that hip hop is increasingly regarded as legitimate and an indigenous part of Danish cultural life – embraced in part by even the royal family.

References to newspapers and music magazines

Andersen, M.E.P, 2005. Black Eyed Peas – “Monkey Business”. Rapspot, http://rapspot.dk/2005/08/28/black-eyed-peas-monkey-business-album/

Anon. 1984. Bliv Danmarksmester i electro boogie. Vi Unge 6: 44

Bisgaard, Jeppe, 1995. Real Rap. Mix, February: 48

Bradley, 1988. Vi vil skabe vores egen stil. MM (Rytmisk musik mm.) 5: 30-31.

De Curtis, Antony, 1987. Asfalten er ikke forbeholdt de sorte. MM (Rytmisk musik mm.) 3: 18-19.

Drejer, Dennis, 2003. Suspekt Nik og Jay. BT, 10. February: 30.

Holst, Hanne-Vibeke, 2004. Du er fucking sexistisk, Niarn! Politiken, 13 November, 3.sec.: 4.

Jensen, Andes Rou, and Markus Mandal. 1984. Der er rap i luften. Politiken, 5 April, 2. sec.: 7

King. 1988. Gadens Konger. MM (Rytmisk musik mm.) 6/7: 12-13

List, Henrik, 1988/89. Hip hop city. MM (Rytmisk musik mm.) 12: 56-59.

List, Henrik, 1991. Besøg af den originale gangster. Berlingske Tidende, 18 September, 3. sec.: 4.

List, Henrik, 1993. Kontrollerede kortslutninger. Berlingske Tidende, 18 March, 2. sec.: 4.

Rabinowitsch, Boris, 1984. Enden er nær. Politiken, 18 January, 2. sec.: 7

Redaktionen, 2003: Rappens Ansvar. Berlingske Tidende, 2. sec. 19 January: 12.

Villemoes, Lars, 1984. Lyn og ridser. Information, 7-8 April: 11.

Villemoes, Lars, 1993a. En kæft som et baseballbat. Weekendavisen, 19 March, 2. sec.: 18.

Villemoes, Lars, 1993b. Rappens fundamentalister. Weekendavisen, 5 February, 2.sek.: 18.


Bibliography

Androutsopoulos, Jannis, ed. 2003. HipHop: Globale Kultur – lokale Praktiken. Bielefeld: Transcript.

Bennetzen, J. 1984. ‘Grandmaster Flash & The Furius Five’. MM (Rytmisk musik mm.), 4: 39

Bennett, Andy (2000): Popular Music and Youth culture. Hampshire and new York: Palgrave.

Bourdieu, Pierre. 1993. The Field of Cultural Production. Cambridge: Polity Press.

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Discography

Malk de Koijn. 1998. Smash Hit in Aberdeen. RCA 74321573102.

Outlandish. 2001. Outland's Official. RCA 74321613462.


[1] I wish to thank prof David Hesmondhalgh for fruitful comments to an early version of this article.

[2] When writing about the novelty of hip hop and related concepts in relation to the process of introduction I am referring to a relative novelty in a specific context – i.e. in Denmark, in certain media, among certain writers and readers etc. Seen from a global perspective hip hop was not exactly a novelty in the early 1980s, and even tracing its appearance in the USA during the 1970s points to prior forms and sources of its characteristic expressions, values, social traits etc. In this respect I am merely stating the importance of a represented novelty according to the persistent quest for news within the popular music press. I elaborate this point during the main text.

[3] For descriptions of Danish rock criticism see Lindberg et al. (2000). The celebration of knowledge about new aesthetic means of expression can be argued with reference to both journalistic and aesthetic values within the field, i.e. a quest for news combined with an appreciation of avant-gardist subversion of norms for playing music. I return to these values below. For a general explanation of rock criticism along these lines see Regev (1994).

[4] An understanding, it must be remembered, which were continuing treads in rock criticism. Treads, initially derived from alliances between the 1960s’ emergent field of rock criticism and established critics of high art at that time (see Lindberg et al. 2000).