Luda, the gentleman.
I have seen QUITE a bit of Ludacris lately, and it is definitely making me reconsider what I thought of him before. I will definitely not pretend to know more than NEXT TO NOTHING about the world of hip-hop. Like, I GET IT. But half of the time I definitely am struggling to get it. I get the struggle, I get the attitude, I get that. (Sort of) BUT, I cannot say that I’m fluent in the language of Young Jeezy. I’m more of a Lupe fan, but I’m trying to expand.
To continue, I’ve always gotten the feeling that the majority of hip-hop is gritty. It requires a certain edge that says, “I don’t give a fuck what you say about my dressing all in purple, passing around STDS, or harassing pedestrians. I got my reasons and I got my people, so fuck ya’ll” It’s a competitive atmosphere, both in reality and in the entertainment industry. It’s kill or be killed, in a more literal sense than most people could ever imagine.
However, as I’m sitting here attempting to write an unbelievably wrenching, exposing, thoughtful song about the man I adore, I find an adequate temporary distraction from my difficult feelings in Chelsea Lately. Soon after she asks Chuy how to say something in spanish, Ludacris comes on. He’s well dressed, relatively clean-cut, and walking with an appropriate level of swagger—it’s present, but clearly toned down out of respect. He then hands Chelsea a bottle of his personal brand of cognac, congratulates her on her #1 book and politely accepts her congratulations on his #1 cd, but proceeds to focus on her soon afterwards. He doesn’t lose his edge in the mass of respectful gestures, though, which may have been the most intriguing aspect of all. He may have brought her a gift in a situation where others assume they are to be the focus of all attention and gift-receiving, but he still commented on her being a dirty girl.
This middle-ground between playful, self-knowing, flirtatious, and respectful is an amazing balance. He was able to convey that he was comfortable, confident, but humble. He is one of the first emergent stars of current rap/hip-hop, he is considered among the greats. He helped pave the way for kid rappers now by popularizing the genre and pushing limits (I wanna…lililililililick you from your head to your toes anyone?) yet he is understanding enough of the meaning of this power that he treats both ladies and those who have created his position in the industry with an extremely uncommon level of respect and gratitude. He certainly doesn’t need to be bribing the media to get exposure, but he is still appreciative of how far he’s come. At least that’s what I saw.
Along with the humility, he’s also been doing some nice meaningful work in film. Obviously, he was in Crash in the mid-2000s, playing a controversially realistic black man who allowed his race to blind him to any sort of reality. However, for me it was his role Gamer that really got me. I think it’s really important that he moved away from the race factor but was still able to provide a meaningful message. This time about the importance of independent thought and personal ownership of yourself (among other things) and suggested that this guy is someone who, if you really listen, has quite a lot of insightful thoughts that should be heard.
So, he seems like a great person in real life, but is that reflected in his music? Personally, I couldn’t care less if someone sings about sexing other guys girls and rubbing it in their face, or about how you “smoke so good” (roll out—my fave luda song). Saying something is important a lot of the time, but if you cant throw down a good beat, no one is going to listen to you anyways. And though I’m all about creating change, making a difference and making a statement, sometimes life needs to just be about rollin in the hood, spotting six inch heels and spending 80 thousand bucks. I am no ludacris expert, or even a fan, really. However, I do know that he may write about bitches, but he also writes about tragedy (Runaway Love being a prime example—second favorite), reality, and that in and of itself is often able to create change.
Ludacris may be the exception to the rule, but as long as someone is forging a new path, that will always be a positive for me—even if they are alone in doing it.
