In a an industry filled with coastal bias, it’s about time someone from the West Coast, more importantly the Bay Area, was given the opportunity to shed light on our side of things. Welcome to a West Coast State of Mind, where I’m only bias sometimes, but at least I’ll admit it. – ill Will
“This is hard to say, I wanna make sure I go about this in the right way…” LL Cool J, “Love You Better”
Key-
Her: a girl
H.E.R., S.H.E., etc: Hip Hop
HER: both
I have two true loves, both equal in greatness, music and women. Whether it’s Michael Jackson, Carlos Santana, Vanessa Carlton, Staind or Jay-Z, it doesn’t matter, music is music. The same goes for women. White, Black, Asian, Latino, or East Indian, it doesn’t matter, beauty is beauty. I can’t front though, I do have my preferences. Music: Hip-Hop. Women: Brown-skinned Ladies (Not the mixed girls in the videos, yeah they’re nice but I’m talkin’ ’bout the color of chocolate).
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I was introduced to both in elementary school, we would chat briefly then go on back about our business, Axl Rose had my musical attention and Jennifer had me behind the bleachers. But as the years passed my connection with H.E.R. grew stronger and by the end of junior high an unbreakable bond was formed.
Dre’s actions as a Nigga Wit Attitude had him stranded on Death Row, but that was a good thing, Nas was Illmatic,which was a better thing, Jay-Z was complaining about “too much West Coast dick licking” (if he only knew that years later he’d give the best brains, lol), and Tupac was slowly but surely on his way to becoming the monster that bred our entire present thug dilemma.
It was an exciting time, I was young and didn’t truly understand the greatness that played before me over and over again in my walkman at school; It just sounded good. In fact it wasn’t until high school when I met Her that I finally began to grasp the concept of Love and loving H.E.R.
As a freshman I began to date a White girl to help pass time (as well as get some). She was a friend of my boy’s girl, so it was convenient. But like with most new, young couples who thought they were in Love, everything tended to not matter anymore, including H.E.R. Looking back, it was crazy how I neglected H.E.R. and just stopped buying CD’s. But in my defense, Dre gave up on gangsta rap, Nas went from poet to iced-out mobster, Jay-Z recorded “Sunshine” and even Tupac claimed he didn’t wanna be a thug anymore.
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S.H.E. would still call me from time to time though, but I was too busy trying to get the girl to suck my dick, which no matter how hard I tried never worked out the way I had planned.
It was obvious that something was missing and I’ll never forget the day she (and S.H.E.) walked (back) in my life. At first glance, she owned my full attention. Her dark brown skin, her braids that hung down to the middle of her back, her full lips, her thick, yet curvaceous frame, her brown eyes, her ass (she got it from her mama), her,everything. She was beautiful. I knew that instant what being in Love really felt like. Strange enough, later that night I had found myself in a place that used to be my safe haven, Wherehouse Music, with an urge to piece together O.U.R. broken hearts.
W.E. decided to take it slow, one CD at a time. One turned into two and before W.E. knew it W.E.’d go out every Tuesday to The Wherehouse to keep up on current events and use Saturdays to catch up on everything I missed at Rasputin’s, where I’d spend all-day in the used CD section.
The jig was up as far as my relationship with the other girl was concerned; everyone knew I had eyes for darker eyes. Now all I had to do was convince my brown-skinned lady to bounce from her situation. A few months passed and soon enough we became the ’97 Bonnie and Clyde (riding out to our own beat, not Tupac’s).
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It was an exciting time; I was older and was in Love with two women, her and H.E.R. I came to understand the value of both and how to learn from one and apply it to the other.
About a year into my newfound relationships the honeymoon period abruptly came to a halt. Arguments overtook my regular conversations with her. And with H.E.R. things weren’t any better. I would stare aimlessly at my shelf desperately searching for something I wanted to listen to but there wasn’t anything. Pac had passed, Puff Daddy didn’t wanna make you dance, he was busy tryna stay out of jail, Nas actually released Nastradamus and Ja Rule took it upon himself to become “mini-Pac”.
What did I do? What any man would do when shit ain’t right with HER, cheat. I found myself listening to easy listening and rock radio stations, flirting with other bitches, listening to other musical genres. All the while SHE still had my heart and I had hers.
Fast-forward to 2002. She stood by me throughout all my bullshit. Whether it was chasing a dream, doing things I had to do, or just being a fucking ass (something I have quite an uncanny ability to do). She never left. Why couldn’t I do that for H.E.R.? Sure we had our problems. S.H.E. had grown so much, but I and most of my peers- weren’t mature enough to understand that. Think about it. Everyone is nagging about how Hip-Hop is lost and they wish S.H.E. could go back to how they remember H.E.R. But S.H.E. has never been better, S.H.E. has never been stronger, S.H.E. has never been more perfect.
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In it’s childhood S.H.E. only spoke one language to a small crowd. As an adult S.H.E. educates an entire world in every dialect ever known to man. Although S.H.E. was birthed to represent a small percentage of people, S.H.E. quickly outgrew them and sought out to conquer the world. S.H.E. went city by city. From The Bronx to Compton to Miami to Atlanta to Houston to Japan and so on. S.H.E. had children; Gangsta Rap, Conscious Rap, etc S.H.E. even came to her ailing friend; R&B’s aid, as well as help a complete stranger Rock.
Okay yeah, S.H.E. did become a monster that no one could tame. Everyone claimed to be an emcee, my bad-few claimed to an emcee-everyone claimed to be a rapper. Albums were popping up out of nowhere, Detroit, St. Louis, North Carolina, among others. You couldn’t tell the difference between H.E.R. and a W.H.O.R.E. But look at it like this; everyone has a representative in H.E.R. now, whether White, Black, or Asian. Whether they’re from Harlem, The Bay, or Kansas City. You’re sick of Ja Rule’s singing, cop a Masta Ace album. Sick of The Lox constantly braggin’ about their gunplay, pop in a Black Star album. Plus all of this wack-ass funny style shit that people are putting out makes finding one original artist or one truly good album that much more greater.
Remember when you first listened to Jay-Z’s The Blueprint? Remember when you got a taste of Dre’s Chronic 2001? Remember when you first heard Eminem? Doesn’t S.H.E. remind you of G.I.R.L. you once knew?
Think of those few moments, along with your personal favorites and admit it, S.H.E. has never been more beautiful.
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I used to, still do, and always will Love H.E.R.
