The Cycle of Prejudice in Music: Why Generations Criticize Emerging Genres
Music, a fundamental aspect of human evolution and communication, has consistently served as both a reflection and a catalyst for societal change. Its pervasive influence on human social contact and cooperative behaviors is well-documented. However, the emergence of new musical genres has frequently been met with intense societal resistance, often labeled as “not real art,” “noise,” or morally corrupting.
This resistance is not merely an aesthetic judgment; it is deeply intertwined with broader social anxieties, racial prejudices, and generational divides. The pattern of condemnation, eventual grudging acceptance, and subsequent re-legitimization of previously maligned genres reveals a recurring phenomenon in cultural history.
Psychological Dynamics Behind Music Criticism
This section breaks down how cultural biases keep repeating in music. We’ll explain key ideas and show how they shape the way people judge artists and genres over time.
Repetition Compulsion: Why Society Repeats the Cycle
Repetition compulsion, a concept rooted in Freudian psychoanalysis, describes the unconscious tendency of an individual to repeat a traumatic event or its circumstances, either as a victim or perpetrator, often in an attempt to gain mastery over them. Sigmund Freud noted that patients might “act out” forgotten and repressed experiences without consciously knowing they are repeating them. This phenomenon highlights a desire to return to an earlier, familiar state, even if that state involves distress.
In the context of music criticism, this psychological dynamic manifests as society unconsciously repeating historical patterns of moral panic and artistic delegitimization against new genres, particularly those associated with marginalized groups. The “distressing experience” for the dominant culture is often the perceived threat to established cultural norms, power structures, or aesthetic conventions that new art forms represent. When a new genre emerges, it disrupts the established “normal” by introducing unfamiliar sounds, lyrical themes, or performance styles.
This suggests that critics and cultural institutions, rather than engaging with the new art form on its own terms, may default to previously “successful” (from their perspective) methods of control and dismissal. The discomfort with the unfamiliar is then “mastered” by applying familiar, albeit damaging, critical frameworks. This implies that the resistance is less about the inherent qualities of the new music and more about the cultural system’s ingrained response to perceived threats to its stability or hierarchy.
Video on the Cycle of Abuse by Dr. David Hawkins
Identification with the Aggressor: Gatekeeping in Music
Identification with the aggressor is a defense mechanism first described by Anna Freud, wherein an individual identifies with someone who poses a threat or an opponent who cannot be mastered. This often involves adopting the aggressor’s aggression or emulating their characteristics. It functions as a survival tactic where victims mentally subordinate themselves to the aggressor to anticipate and comply with their desires, often dissociating from their own feelings and perceptions.
This concept illuminates how individuals or groups who were once targets of cultural prejudice might, upon gaining a position of influence, adopt the critical stance of their former aggressors toward newer, emerging forms of their own art. They effectively internalize the criteria of “legitimacy” set by the dominant culture. If older generations of artists were once called “weird” or “not real” by mainstream critics, and they now apply similar criticisms to newer artists within their own genre, this is a direct manifestation of identification with the aggressor.
Social Learning Theory: Normalizing Prejudice in Music
Albert Bandura’s Social Learning Theory posits that individuals acquire new behaviors, attitudes, and emotional reactions through observing and imitating others, even without direct reinforcement. This process, which involves attention, retention, motor reproduction, and motivation, explains how behaviors—both positive and negative—become “normalized” through modeling.
In the realm of cultural criticism, societal institutions, particularly the media and educational systems, model and normalize prejudicial attitudes and language towards emerging art forms and their artists. Journalists, critics, and public figures, by consistently using derogatory labels or dismissing certain genres, provide powerful models for others to adopt similar behaviors and perspectives. The media’s consistent use of terms like “thug” for rappers or “devil’s music” for jazz and rock acts as a potent form of observational learning. These labels, often tied to racialized or moral panics, are reinforced through repetition and widespread dissemination. This process creates a “psychological schema” in the public consciousness, an enduring framework that organizes thoughts, feelings, and expectations about certain genres and artists.
This goes beyond simple criticism; it is about the social construction of reality around these art forms. The media does not merely report; it actively shapes perception, making it harder for audiences to engage with the art outside of these pre-established, often negative, schemas. This underscores the critical role of media literacy and responsible journalism in interrupting these cycles, as their portrayal directly influences public opinion and policy, such as the criminalization of lyrics.
Video on Social Learning by Sprouts
Intergenerational Trauma and Internalized Oppression in Music Culture
Intergenerational trauma refers to the apparent transmission of unresolved trauma between generations of a family, or more broadly, within communities, through genes, behavior, or cultural narratives. This can lead to susceptibility to anxiety, depression, hypervigilance, and the inheritance of a worldview that “the world is a dangerous place where terrible things could happen at any time”. Internalized oppression, a related concept, occurs when marginalized groups unconsciously adopt their oppressors’ beliefs and behaviors, often leading to self-criticism or belittling of their own group members.
Systemic racism and historical oppression create a profound legacy of trauma within marginalized communities. For African American communities, this includes the transatlantic slave trade, Jim Crow laws, and ongoing systemic racism, which perpetuate a cycle of chronic stress, anxiety, and fear. Music, particularly genres like jazz and rap, often emerges from these contexts as a form of expression, resilience, and a reflection of “street life”. However, the trauma can be transmitted, leading to internalized oppression where older generations, having experienced the external criticisms and systemic marginalization, internalize those judgments and apply them to newer expressions within their own culture.
The observation that “older generations who were criticized for ‘laziness’ may similarly belittle youth” exemplifies this. The underlying mechanism could be a “survival” imperative. If older artists navigated a hostile environment by adhering to certain standards (e.g., lyrical prowess, “real” instruments), they might perceive deviations from these standards by younger artists as a threat to the genre’s hard-won legitimacy or even their own legacy. This can be viewed as a form of cognitive dissonance, where past suffering is justified by believing their chosen path was the “correct” one.
This suggests that the internal critique is not merely about musical taste but a deeply embedded response to historical struggle and a desire to protect what they perceive as the “integrity” or “respectability” of their art form in the face of ongoing external devaluation. Understanding this dynamic is crucial for fostering intergenerational solidarity and collective healing within cultural movements, rather than allowing external pressures to divide and conquer.
Historical Precedents of Music Prejudice
The recurring pattern of condemnation against new musical forms is not unique to rap. Throughout the 20th century, genres now widely accepted as legitimate art forms faced similar, often vitriolic, criticisms.
Jazz: From "Devil’s Music" to American Art Form
Jazz, emerging from the Black American experience, represented a radical departure from established musical norms. Its emphasis on improvisation over traditional structure and the performer over the composer, coupled with its roots in Black American culture, immediately positioned it as a target for criticism. Early critics often labeled jazz as “barbaric and immoral,” reflecting deep-seated racial prejudices. The sound was frequently attributed to “primitive” African traditions and “slave music,” a deliberate attempt to demean both the art form and its originators. Even prominent Black intellectuals, such as W.E.B. DuBois, reportedly preferred European classical music or “Negro” spirituals over jazz, demonstrating an early internal division or struggle for “respectability” within the Black community itself.
The association of jazz with illicit venues further fueled public outcry. Due to systemic segregation, Black musicians were often barred from “proper” establishments, leading jazz to flourish in brothels and, during Prohibition, gangster-run nightclubs. This connection intensified campaigns to censor what was widely dubbed “the devil’s music”. For instance, a Cincinnati home for expectant mothers successfully obtained a court injunction to prevent a neighboring theater from playing jazz, arguing the music was “dangerous to fetuses”.
By the end of the 1920s, over sixty communities nationwide had enacted laws prohibiting jazz in public dance halls. These actions illustrate how cultural criticism can serve as a proxy for deeper societal anxieties, particularly racial and class-based fears. The music became a scapegoat for broader social changes that the dominant culture found threatening, demonstrating a societal repetition compulsion to control perceived threats to established order. Despite fierce opposition, jazz not only survived but expanded its influence, eventually gaining widespread acceptance. By the time Duke Ellington toured England in 1933, classical musicians and music critics were analyzing jazz and declaring it a “serious art form”.
The Devil’s Music: 1920s Jazz, examines the evolution of jazz from a radically new and socially unacceptable musical genre to its current status as a great American art form. By The Historical Memory Channel
Rock & Roll: The Soundtrack of Rebellion and Racism
Following jazz, rock & roll emerged in the mid-20th century to face similar accusations of moral decay and social subversion. From its very beginning, rock music was blamed for the “moral decay of young people,” with parents and authorities fearing it would lead white youth to “explore black music and the perceived dangers that entailed” or even “damn themselves for all time”. Critics frequently linked rock & roll to “juvenile delinquency,” which became a national topic of discussion, even attracting the attention of the U.S. Congress. Frank Sinatra, a prominent figure of the older generation, famously lambasted rock & roll as “the most brutal, ugly, degenerate, vicious form of expression… sung, played, and written for the most part by cretinous goons”.
A significant portion of the anti-rock & roll sentiment was fueled by “overt racism and fears of miscegenation”. The music’s roots in African-American culture, its “hip-shimmying rhythms,” and “less-than-pious lyrics” were all cited as evidence of its “devil’s music” nature. The adoption of Black cultural styles and heroes by white adolescents was explicitly viewed as a “rebellious act against the dominant group”. Lieutenant Richard Overton, a Santa Cruz police officer, described a dance party crowd as “engaged in suggestive, stimulating and tantalizing motions induced by the provocative rhythms of an all-negro band,” highlighting the racialized and sexualized anxieties surrounding the music.
This moral panic led to widespread censorship and bans. Organizations like the Parents Music Resource Center (PMRC), led by Tipper Gore, pressured radio stations, television, and record companies to censor explicit songs and content. Cities like Santa Cruz enacted total bans on rock & roll at public gatherings, declaring the music “Detrimental to both the health and morals of our youth and community”.
Police confiscated jukeboxes, and radio stations banned records, particularly those by Black performers. This consistent linking of rock & roll to “juvenile delinquency” and “moral decay” illustrates a classic moral panic, where the music became a convenient scapegoat for broader societal anxieties about youth rebellion, changing sexual norms, and racial integration. The “devil’s music” label was applied when a new genre was perceived as fundamentally subversive, often due to its association with marginalized groups or counter-cultural movements, demonstrating a societal repetition compulsion to control perceived threats.
Rap Music: The Modern Target of Prejudice
The historical patterns of cultural prejudice against emerging music genres find a stark contemporary parallel in the ongoing criticisms faced by rap music and its artists.
Media Bias: The "Thug" Label and Criminalization of Lyrics
Rap music is uniquely targeted by external forces, facing a level of institutionalized prejudice rarely seen with other genres. There are nearly 700 documented cases where rap lyrics have been used to prosecute and incarcerate artists, predominantly young Black and Latino men. This practice is described as a “trap” that criminalizes creative expression, often by mischaracterizing lyrics when divorced from their musical and cultural context.
The direct use of rap lyrics as criminal evidence represents a significantly more severe and institutionalized form of cultural prejudice than historical censorship, moving beyond mere journalistic criticism to direct legal and punitive action. This escalation demonstrates a clear ripple effect of the initial “othering” and “thug” labeling, illustrating how social learning and repetition compulsion can lead to systemic oppression.
The term “thug” is frequently applied to rappers, a word widely understood to be a racist term that automatically implies violence and criminality. Journalists, such as Ed Gordon, have been documented warning rappers like Tupac against their “thug friends,” implicitly linking the artist to criminal behavior despite their artistic identity. Media outlets frequently mislabel rap, portraying it as the “cause of violence” rather than recognizing it as a reflection of “street life” and its inherent complexities.
This consistent misrepresentation reinforces negative psychological schemas in the public consciousness, making it difficult for audiences to perceive rap outside of these pre-established, often negative, frameworks. This highlights the intersection of cultural criticism, racial bias, and the legal system, where the “thug” label, rooted in racial stereotypes, provides a justification for legal actions that would be unthinkable for artists in other genres. This institutionalization of prejudice against rap has profound implications for freedom of speech and artistic expression, particularly for marginalized communities.
Furthermore, prosecutors and critics often fail to recognize the “brilliance and poetry” of rap, which is “embedded with metaphors, allegories, double entendres, and references to other musicians’ bodies of work”. Rappers are storytellers who document life and contribute to culture, acting as “journalists” for perspectives often ignored by mainstream media. They provide a direct conduit to realities that are frequently overlooked or misrepresented by traditional news outlets.
From a young age, the media we consume shapes our identity, the way we think and the way we view the world. So just how damaging can racial tropes and a lack of representation in films, TV and books be for our sense of identity? by BBC Global
"Not Real Art": How Critics Dismiss Rap’s Legitimacy
Accusations that rap is “not real art” or mere “noise” echo the historical criticisms leveled against jazz and rock & roll. Critics often argue that rap lacks the traditional components of music, such as harmony and melody, or that its lyrical content is unsophisticated. Phrases like “Rap lyrics are barbaric and dumb. They aren’t sophisticated or enlightening. They are ego based and degrading to humanity” are common. Modern subgenres, particularly “autotuned mumble rap,” are frequently criticized for lacking lyrical prowess, being repetitive, and relying heavily on autotune, with critics claiming this “dismantling what made rap great – lyrical mastery”.
A clear double standard is evident when these criticisms are juxtaposed with the reception of other genres. Individuals who dismiss rap as “not real music” often listen to genres like metal or rock, which themselves incorporate hip-hop influences. This reveals a selective application of aesthetic criteria: elements accepted in other genres are grounds for dismissal in rap. Early New York Times coverage, for example, sometimes focused on the “sampling” aspect or appropriation by white new wave bands, rather than engaging with rap’s artistic merits.
Rolling Stone magazine, in its 1984 record guide, “virtually ignored hip-hop and ruthlessly panned heavy metal,” demonstrating a broader generational and genre bias in mainstream music criticism. This pattern illustrates a societal repetition compulsion in the definition of art itself. The “art world”—comprising critics and cultural institutions—unconsciously repeats the pattern of resisting aesthetic innovation, especially when it originates from marginalized spaces, by applying outdated or biased criteria.
Rap faced significant scrutiny and censorship from its early days in the 1970s, primarily due to explicit lyrics addressing themes of violence and sexuality. Detractors, including cultural conservatives and public figures, pushed for restrictions on its dissemination, arguing it was detrimental to societal values. The backlash against rap in the late 1980s found parallels in the moral panic against comic books, which were also perceived as corrupting youth through their vivid depiction of “vice, lust, horror, and lawlessness”.
This historical parallel further illustrates the repetition compulsion in societal reactions to new, youth-oriented cultural forms that challenge established norms. The ongoing debate surrounding rap’s artistic legitimacy highlights the power dynamics inherent in cultural valuation and the need for a more inclusive and evolving understanding of what constitutes “art.”
Internalized Cycles: Generational Conflict within Hip-Hop
The cycle of prejudice extends beyond external societal condemnation, manifesting as an internalized dynamic within the hip-hop community itself. Older generations of rappers, often termed “old heads,” frequently criticize newer artists, echoing the very dismissals they once faced.
Internalized Cycles: "Old Heads" vs. the New Wave in Hip-Hop
Older rappers commonly criticize the “new wave” of rap for its perceived lack of lyrical skill, heavy reliance on autotune, repetitive nature, and a perceived absence of originality. A common sentiment is that “music has gotten too easy to make, promote, and get paid from,” leading to a proliferation of “actual garbage tracks”. Specific criticisms target “mumble auto tuned style drill or emo-rap” and songs characterized by repetitive, non-lyrical content, such as Lil Pump’s “Gucci Gang” repeating the phrase 53 times in just over two minutes. This perspective suggests that the focus has shifted from “lyrics” to “flow, sound, and production,” thereby sacrificing lyrical depth.
Prominent examples of this intergenerational critique include Rhymefest’s criticism of Chief Keef’s lyrics, asserting they “represent the senseless savagery that white people see when the news speaks of Chicago violence”. This statement directly mirrors the external media’s “thug” narrative, demonstrating how an older artist can internalize and then project external, often racially charged, criticisms onto a younger generation within their own genre.
This generational divide is partly driven by a natural human resistance to change and an attachment to the music experienced during one’s youth. Older generations often idealize the era of their youth and perceive current trends as a decline. This psychological attachment to the past can fuel a critical stance that is less about objective artistic merit and more about a subjective sense of loss or discomfort with change. This cognitive bias reinforces the repetition compulsion.
Hip-hop’s generational divide started long before Lil Xan deemed 2Pac’s music “boring” or Joe Budden confronted Migos and Lil Yachty. With every new crop of rappers, there are established veterans who don’t appreciate their music. To help shed light on the generational gap, Genius spoke to University of Cambridge senior lecturer Dr. Arielle Bonneville-Roussy, co-author of the 2013 study Music Through the Ages. By Genius
The Moroccan Echo: Local Manifestations of the Cycle of Disdain
The universal patterns of cultural prejudice and intergenerational conflict in music are vividly reflected in Morocco’s rich musical history, offering local examples of how innovative genres and artists faced initial resistance before achieving widespread acceptance and becoming symbols of national pride.
Nass El Ghiwane: From "Primitive" to National Icon
Emerging in 1970, the Moroccan musical group Nass El Ghiwane revolutionized popular music by pioneering a new genre known as Ghiwanian song and initiating a significant social and political movement during “the years of lead,” an era marked by brutal political oppression. Drawing heavily on Morocco’s popular Sufi poetry, folk tales, and the sounds and rhythms of Gnawa music, Nass El Ghiwane elevated the spoken form of Moroccan Arabic, Darija, into a sophisticated literary language. Their subtle and profound lyrics spoke directly to a nation grappling with political upheaval and rapid social change, tackling issues that touched the core of Moroccan society, including stinging criticisms of corruption.
Despite their profound impact and artistic innovation, Nass El Ghiwane’s music was initially met with disdain from certain segments of society. In the educated circles of 1960s and 70s Morocco, particularly in cultural centers like Fez, their music was often regarded as “primitive and backward”. This perception stemmed from its association with traditional Sufi brotherhoods like the Jilala and Hmadcha, and especially the trance music of the Gnawa, which was often used in healing ceremonies developed by popular Islam.
The group’s sparse instrumentation, sometimes relying only on vocals and rhythmic clapping, contrasted with the expectations of contemporary rock stars, even though they adopted “Beatles-style haircuts and flared trousers”. This initial dismissal by the elite, who deemed vernacular oral literature “not sufficiently ‘literary'” and perceived it as a genre for the “lower classes,” highlights a societal repetition compulsion to devalue art forms that challenge established aesthetic and social hierarchies.
Nevertheless, Nass El Ghiwane’s authenticity and direct communication with the audience allowed them to transcend this initial criticism. They became a “phenomenon” that shaped a conscious and politically aware generation, eventually earning recognition as an “icon of Moroccan music”. Their ability to fuse Gnawa, Chaabi, and Amazigh music created a “mosaic of cultural specificities” that resonated deeply with Moroccans, inspiring numerous writers, poets, and filmmakers. This trajectory exemplifies how a genre initially dismissed as unsophisticated or “primitive” can, through its profound connection to the people and its artistic merit, achieve widespread acceptance and become a symbol of national identity.
Gnawa Music: From "Prohibited" to Pride
Gnawa music, with its deep roots in sub-Saharan African communities brought to Morocco through slavery, represents a powerful example of an art form that endured historical suppression before gaining widespread recognition and becoming a source of national pride. This music is intrinsically linked to profound social and religious implications, often involving ecstatic and possession rites that serve as healing ceremonies to process the trauma of slavery.
For a long time, the manifestations of Gnawa brotherhoods were “prohibited in some countries and only tolerated in others,” often being “silenced or despised”. This suppression reflects a societal attempt to control and delegitimize cultural expressions associated with marginalized groups and practices perceived as unconventional or threatening to established norms. The chants themselves speak of “suffering, captivity and exile,” evoking distant communities and ancestors, underscoring the deep historical trauma embedded within the music.
Despite this historical marginalization, Gnawa music has not only survived but flourished. It has become a significant part of Morocco’s cultural heritage, with its distinctive sounds, particularly the guembri (a three-stringed lute) and qraqab (iron castanets), captivating audiences. Today, Gnawa music is a “commercial property,” with concerts being commonplace, and its aesthetic is often added to other genres like jazz and rai, sending audiences into “rapture”. This transformation from a suppressed, often misunderstood practice to a celebrated art form demonstrates the power of cultural resilience and the eventual societal acceptance of expressions once deemed “dangerous” or “illicit.”
Early Moroccan Rap: Challenging Clichés
The emergence of Moroccan rap in the late 20th century followed a similar pattern of initial resistance and gradual acceptance. Pioneers like Shams Ddine, who began recording in 1986, and groups such as Double A (releasing the first official album in 1996) and H-Kayne (founded in 1996), introduced rap to Morocco’s vibrant music scene. These artists, including prominent figures like Don Bigg and Muslim, chose to rap in Darija, focusing their lyrics on social issues relevant to Moroccan youth, such as poverty, crime, and corruption, drawing inspiration from 90s American rap.
However, rap was initially perceived as an “immitation of the West” and “unsuitable genre to Moroccan society”. Local television and radio stations were “hesitant to embrace it due to its associated clichés”. This hesitation mirrors the “social learning theory” at play, where media institutions, influenced by existing biases and stereotypes associated with rap globally, were slow to recognize its artistic and social value. The “clichés” likely included perceptions of violence, criminality, or a lack of artistic merit, similar to the “thug” label applied to rappers elsewhere.
Despite this initial reluctance, Moroccan rap broke through. Double A, for instance, shattered preconceptions by bringing the first-ever rap show to local television in 1997. Groups like Zanka Flow, known for their “gritty, street-centered style,” gained immense influence, inspiring a new generation of artists. The genre matured, attracting international attention and leading to major labels signing local artists. This evolution demonstrates how Moroccan rap, by authentically reflecting local realities and blending global influences with a unique Moroccan touch, overcame initial resistance to become a significant and impactful musical force, continuing the cycle of a once-maligned genre finding its place and pride.
Breaking the Cycle: Strategies for Cultural Change
Interrupting these harmful cycles of prejudice requires a multi-faceted approach that addresses both the psychological underpinnings and the systemic manifestations of cultural disdain. Research offers several strategies for fostering cultural evolution and healing.
Raising Awareness of Prejudicial Patterns
The initial step in disrupting any cycle of repetition is “recognizing the pattern” (“I’m doing what was done to me”). This involves cultivating critical consciousness, which entails actively questioning cultural norms, ingrained biases, and the historical narratives that perpetuate stereotypes and prejudice. For example, recognizing that rap is an art form, not merely criminal evidence, is a crucial shift in perception that challenges a harmful narrative. The act of explicitly naming the phenomenon as “repetition compulsion” or “intergenerational trauma” provides a psychological framework that shifts the discussion from individual blame to systemic patterns.
By changing the discourse around these cultural phenomena, it becomes possible to dismantle the cognitive schemas that perpetuate prejudice. This emphasizes the vital role of academic research and critical discourse in providing the tools for societal self-reflection and change.
Intergenerational Dialogue and Empathy
Fostering understanding and empathy across generations is paramount. Research indicates that “intergenerational dialogue and inquiry” can effectively break silence about past brutalities and contribute to collective healing. This process necessitates “trust-building, active listening, questioning, re-storying, deep dialogue and co-inquiry across the generations”. Learning from the past is essential for charting a path to the future, a concept encapsulated by the Akan tribe’s ‘sankofa’—”go back and get it”—which advises drawing lessons from previous generations’ wisdom and knowledge. Applying this to music, understanding the historical criticisms faced by jazz and rock can inform current discussions about rap, preventing the repetition of past mistakes.
Creating inclusive spaces for such dialogues is critical, requiring “equitable representation,” “inclusive environments,” and “open channels” of communication to ensure all voices are heard and valued. The internal conflict within hip-hop, between “old heads” and the “new wave,” presents a prime opportunity for this type of intergenerational dialogue. Instead of dismissing newer styles, older artists could engage in “co-inquiry” to understand the artistic motivations and social contexts of the new generation.
Younger artists, in turn, could learn from the struggles and wisdom of their predecessors. This reframes the conflict from a zero-sum game to a collaborative evolution, acknowledging that “Hip Hop will always innovate and go in waves”. This approach moves beyond simply “tolerating” differences to actively seeking mutual understanding and leveraging diverse perspectives for the enrichment of the art form, akin to collective “reparenting work” within the cultural sphere. Such engagement can transform internal divisions into sources of strength, allowing the culture to adapt and thrive while maintaining a connection to its roots and shared history.
Challenging Systemic Bias in Music Criticism
The cycle of prejudice is deeply embedded in societal institutions, necessitating concrete legal and institutional reforms in addition to individual and cultural shifts. The ongoing criminalization of rap lyrics, for instance, demands legislative action. The Restoring Artistic Protection (RAP) Act, a federal initiative, aims to limit prosecutors’ ability to use creative expression as evidence in criminal trials. This is a crucial step in dismantling the institutionalized “trap” that targets rap artists. This highlights that cultural change is often a reciprocal process: societal attitudes influence laws, and laws, in turn, can shape societal attitudes. Legal protections for artistic expression can create a safer space for cultural evolution.
Research suggests that promoting positive contemporary ideas and representations, defined by the marginalized communities themselves, can “interrupt the cycle of bias” within institutions like the legal system, media, and education. This points to the necessity of a multi-pronged approach to breaking cycles of prejudice, addressing both psychological and structural factors.
Reclaiming Narratives: Rap as a Reflection of Reality
A powerful strategy for breaking the cycle involves reclaiming narratives. This means ensuring that “new ideas and representations defined by Native American people accurately reflect who and what Native people are, not who others imagine them to be”. This principle applies directly to rap, where artists are actively reclaiming their narratives against “thug” stereotypes and mischaracterizations. Recognizing rap artists as storytellers and “journalists” who reflect “harsh realities” challenges the simplistic, often negative, interpretations of their lyrics. Music, particularly rap, often serves as a direct conduit to perspectives ignored by mainstream media.
Artists like Kendrick Lamar and J. Cole use their music to explore the legacy of slavery, systemic racism, and poverty. This act of “reclaiming narratives” is a powerful form of resistance against internalized oppression and external prejudice. It allows marginalized communities to define themselves and their experiences, rather than being defined by their oppressors. This emphasizes the therapeutic and empowering potential of art in addressing intergenerational trauma, providing a platform for expression and catharsis. Supporting and amplifying these counter-narratives is essential for fostering critical consciousness and promoting a more equitable and accurate understanding of diverse cultural expressions.
Breaking the Cycle: Strategies for Cultural Change
The analysis presented demonstrates that the historical criticisms of jazz, rock & roll, and punk, alongside the contemporary attacks on rap music, demonstrably follow a predictable and recurring pattern. This “echo chamber of disdain” is not merely a series of isolated incidents but a manifestation of deeply ingrained psychological dynamics. Psychological concepts such as repetition compulsion, identification with the aggressor, social learning theory, intergenerational trauma, and internalized oppression provide a robust framework for understanding this cyclical prejudice. This cycle manifests both as external societal condemnation and as internal generational conflict within the art form itself.
Understanding these psychological dynamics is paramount for fostering a more inclusive and appreciative cultural landscape. Breaking this “never-ending cycle” requires conscious awareness of historical patterns, critical engagement with prevailing biases, and active strategies for dialogue, empathy, and systemic change. It necessitates a societal shift from reactive condemnation to proactive understanding and support for evolving artistic expressions.
The transformative power of art extends beyond mere entertainment; it serves as a potent reflection of society’s struggles and triumphs, and crucially, as a catalyst for healing and social justice. Ultimately, a more inclusive artistic future depends on critics, audiences, and artists alike engaging with new forms of expression with an open mind, recognizing the inherent value and evolving nature of art, and actively challenging the biases that perpetuate these harmful cycles.
What’s your perspective on music prejudice? Share your thoughts in the comments.
