Once upon a time, hiphop was all about the streets. It seemed like every major rapper was a veteran of the drug trade and a victim of the War on Drugs. They talked about selling drugs and all the chaos that goes with that and within that conversation they couldn’t help but talk about the deadness in their souls. Several ex-dealers have told me selling crack can kill your soul—you know you’re selling poison. The wars in the streets over rocks and territory gave us a generation of young men who, as teenagers, worked in one of the most dangerous and most traumatizing industries in America and lost their childhoods. They grew up in a virtual war zone, worked a violent job, and were the main reason why there was enough to eat at home. This is what it is to be a manchild.
The Black-boy-as-Manchild thing is age old in America because quite often Black children (of both genders) have to grow up faster. They experience life’s terrors earlier, they feel adult pressures earlier, they fall into wild situations earlier. When we talk about our prominent dealer/rappers, we’re talking about people who did not have a real childhood. They were in the streets as teenagers—Jay-Z, Nas, 50 Cent, Kendrick—and the street life shaped them and their music. They never got a chance to be innocent, they came out of the womb with a Glock and a brick and the determination to get theirs by any means necessary. There’s something self-serious, world-weary, and ice cold in them.
When Black America was enmeshed in the War on Drugs, it seemed apropos that most or all of the major rappers were manchildren. Hiphop was Black America’s CNN and the manchild represented the massive impact that drugs had on the community. But for many years now there’s been another group of rappers who are so artistic and creative that they seem childlike. They seem deeply in touch with the childlike part of themselves. Or they seem like they’re permanently 20 years old, forever young and free and chasing after the biggest toys they can get.
Far from the manchild who didn’t really have a childhood, these rappers seem to be perpetual children. They’re philosophical and inquisitive with a childlike sense of wonder about the world. Far from being cold inside, they want to party for the sake of partying. They may bring a sense of playfulness and give off the vibe of, like, I’m a big kid, or I’m a frat house kind of guy. They’re adults who are like big kids. I’m talking about Kid Cudi, Kanye, Lil Yachty, Busta, Travis Scott, A$AP Rocky. I’m talking about a category sometimes called the Kidult—the kid-adult, or the childlike grown up, of which Pharrell seems to be a perfect example. It’s not that h’s childish, it’s much deeper. It’s that he retains a childlike sense of wonder and joy even though he’s grown.
The kidults—or childmen—give us a more whimsical approach that isn’t shaped by the war on drugs at all. Instead of the drugs they sold, it’s more about the drugs they took.
Almost every male rapper is either a manchild or a childman. Manchild—Pusha T, TI, Jeezy, DMX, Meek Mill, The Game, Biggie. Childman—Drake, Childish Gambino, Tyler the Creator, Chance the Rapper, De La Soul, A Tribe Called Quest, the Roots. Actually, let me be more granular. Manchild—Black Thought, Phife, Big Boi, and Chuck D. Childman—Questlove, Q-Tip, Andre 3000, and Flavor-Flav.
I think that dichotomy explains a lot of what you get in hiphop. There’s cold tough guys and there’s fun guys. The manchild perpetuates the hiphop status quo while the childman pushes against its boundaries—he’s creative and philosophical. (This works, for me, for the men. For the women it doesn’t track at all. We have to come up with a whole different dichotomy.)
In any grouping like this there’s bound to be curveballs. I think Lil Wayne is both a manchild and a childman. Vince Staples, too. I think Snoop started out as a manchild—on his first single “Deep Cover” he was full of anger as he plotted how to murder a cop—but he has become cuddly Uncle Snoop, an unofficial ambassador from hiphop to Middle America, hiphop’s version of Cheech & Chong. Now he would never make a record about how hard his childhood was because he’s hanging out with Martha Stewart at the Olympics and making cute jokes. He has become a super fun childman.
Who else do you think fits into these categories?
https://open.substack.com/pub/souljaworldnews/p/million-off-a-mixtape?r=33jufj&utm_medium=ios
Thanks! You've made me realise that perhaps one of the things that I like most about Lupe is that he seems to embody both at the same time. It's like you've got the Flavor Flav side and the Chuck D side in the same person. Sometimes inside a single song, eg Daydreamin'. I know at the start we tended to think of him in his sort of "nerd" guise because he's into comics and skate culture and designer labels and whatnot but he's always had that ability to balance what used to be referred to as almost separate sub-genres, of "conscious" and "street" hip-hop, in the same song. And of course he wasn't above sending himself up a little bit about that, while also showing us that he was miles ahead of us, in Dumb It Down.
To an extent, Cee-Lo maybe does this too - I've always been a fan of those first two of his solo albums, and the second in particular, where he can go from hymning the joys of what music means to him even in the midst of breaking down the politics of the business that facilitates it (I Am Selling Soul) to doing a rap-record version of a Loony Toons carton (Childz Play) then be going all-out blazing raw battle emcee on Glockapella in in the space of a few songs in the middle of the album.
Another who maybe could be a foot-in-both-camps artist is E-40. Maybe that's more a case of letting his sense of sharp humour and his love of wordplay blend in with what material that always seems to be rooted (either explicitly or just by some of the metaphors he uses or even sometimes just the slang) in what he saw and learned around the drug game - and maybe therefore that's a bit off to one side of what you're describing. But he can be talking about pretty straightforward street subjects yet he still always throws in some unique way of describing a situation that wows you with its vision and imagination. I loved that song he had out online last year, Bands - it's basically just a big old-fashioned emcee brag, but he's so witty and clever with it that you almost feel like it's never been done before. The video is one of my go-tos when I need a three-minute pick-me-up - always come away from it with a spring in my step.