This time last year, I pulled out the top ten albums on Pitchfork's best of list. I tend to be sort of hit-or-miss with Pitchfork recommendations because they pay a lot closer attention to lyrical content than I do, and put less emphasis on the sound. However, every now and then I line up with their thoughts and the best of list usually helps me to push past some of my musical prejudices. Last year helped me to appreciate Kendrick Lamar more. This year I started listening to Chance the Rapper who I had missed in the noise of the general music press.
I'd love to share Chance with some of the people I talk to. Sometimes when I'm working at youth group I want to put music on, but the problem is that so much of the music I listen to is rooted in exploring loss or injustice or the ugly parts of life or it comes out of a place where there's honest talk about sex, or drugs, or violence, or its just mentioned because that's a part of life. I can't imagine the conversations I'd have to have with parents if they wanted to know where their kids were learning these new words from. There's adults where I have the same problem. I don't know how to articulate something like Chance's album to other people because I see so much depth in it when you go looking, but I don't think most people I interact with on the daily could get past the fact that "this is rap music". I think they'd have the same reaction my Grade 5 teacher had. "Rap music is fast talking over rhythmic music with lots of vulgarity". They don't want to parse curse words into something with more depth they just feel awkward about it.
This has got to be a complete shift in the way that people think about culture and language and I honestly don't know if I'll see it. I know if I have kids or when I talk to kids about music and culture I'll want to talk about it in a way that emphasizes that we look behind what's on the surface to understand the story someone is telling and understanding how some language gets limited to certain spheres and certain people. Maybe after a few generations of that you can get your stodgy uncle listening to "Same Drugs".