URB 02 - Children of freedom of speech

In the beginning the farmer wielded his hoe in the fields – now there is the street, rhythm, and weighty words. URB 02 presents two of the latest phenomena in the text society: rap lyrics and performance poetry.

We are surrounded by texts. Influence is exerted over us with the help of language. The English language threatens Finnish. Young people today do not read. We live in a society of text messages.

Much has been said about the modern society.

There is no denying that the world has changed. Thick novels are not a profitable investment for the publisher: readers want concentrated text in paperback. People approach each other by flirting with text messages, and when things come to a head, the spouse is informed about the impending divorce by an e-mail message in the middle of the work day. So short-sighted! The older generation exclaims about such goings-on. But let’s forget about fussing, traditions have not vanished and text itself is doing better than ever.

Linguists compete in producing research results on how language is not becoming impoverished, but increasingly varied and rich. People switch effortlessly between different text types, from work-related reports to flirty e-mails and text messages aimed at a bunch of friends. Spoken text varies from dialects to restricted business language. What causes most worry is the purity of the language, but is it worth worrying about in our global society? The young generation does not think so.

In their song Voittamaton (‘invincible’) Finnish hip-hop group Fintelligens tells the listeners to write down their rhymes because in the future nobody will beat them, their words will not be wasted, they are just what the Finnish scene has been waiting for. There is an explanation for the high self-confidence: hip-hop culture is one of the major influences on art in our era. Some even go so far as to say that graffiti are the only significant artistic phenomena in a hundred years. Many might disagree with that, but hip-hop emphasises most of all its own innovative quality and the fact that with it, it is becoming increasingly easy to make sense of the world around us. In hip-hop music, the text is equally as important as the rhythm. But why should rap lyrics surpass lyrics in other music genres?

Matter – to the matter!

Rap musicians are the messengers of today. They master rhetoric and at times, their rhyming is nearly on a par with Elias Lönnrot, the compiler of Finnish national epic, the Kalevala. These text masters do not loiter in the hallways of the Parliament House; instead they brag about being raised in the streets. Finnish hip-hop has many faces, such as Fintelligens, Paleface, MC Avain, and Kapteeni Ä-ni, but texts have also found their form. Rap lyrics are here to stay.

One reason why rap lyrics are so interesting, and in some ways so superior to, for instance, rock lyrics is that the writers see the texts as expressing the message of the entire hip-hop culture. The MCs are responsible to their own culture for their words, and self-criticism can be quite severe. For instance, Karri Miettinen, a.k.a. Paleface has said that it is high time to demand a higher standard from the contents, so that in the future, “the revolution” need not be ashamed of its children. When not making music, Paleface doggedly fights against the lack of backbone in hip-hop.

Hip-hop is like a religion to many. Sometimes the rhymes sound like preaching and the emphasis on the lyrics reminds one of the 1960s political ensemble Agit Prop, more than the 1990s semi-political pop group Ultra Bra. Words are weighty, but they are borne with the back straight. And what is more important, each text is an independent work of art.

Poetry’s new clothes

Poetry has never been a straightforward phenomenon, and its significance as a source of inspiration for anything creative cannot be underestimated. Poetry, however, recreates itself over and over again.

Performance poetry is a new form of poetry, symptoms of which have also been witnessed in Finland. Here too poetry is complemented by street poetry and its representatives, the Turku poetry movement, Meteli club, and numerous poetry tours. Great Britain is, however, ahead in this respect. The Modern Love tour is a good example of it.

The tour, organised by Renaissance One, which has been called a promoter of English literature, introduced a group of contemporary poets, which was called a “modern army of love”. The multicultural group, breaking cultural boundaries, toured schools, jails, clubs, universities, and literary circles in the British Isles last October. The subject was urban love and the form of expression poetry, but not alone. The poets combine music, performance, and visual arts to their shows. Some of these verbal pioneers will also appear at the URB 02 festival.

Performance poets are, however, above all, poets, and it is a fine line between the two. The term ‘performance poet’ emerged in the American slam culture, and spread from there, for instance, to the same stage with rock band Nirvana in the 1990s. It refers to a poet who performs his or her poetry in an environment with “street credibility”, such as bars, cafés, or on stage with musicians.

Wait a second! Performance poetry seems like an inverse phenomenon of rap lyrics. Does the same text have two mirror images? Or perhaps many? Find out for yourself, when URB 02 spreads the word in the streets.

“Hip-hop is like religion to us”

“I’m Ninde, that’s what everybody calls me, and we’re all 19. We’ve danced for years. Not under anybody’s wing, but because we can and want to.”

Where’s the camera? Hip-hop girls Ninde, Jasmine, and Lisa act as if they were being interviewed by MTV. But there are no neon lights. We are in Finland, but hands are gesturing wildly and American English is splashing around.

“I’ve danced ever since I learned to walk. There’s no other way of moving than dance,” says Ninde and the others finish the sentence in chorus.

Hip-hop has been seen as a boy-thing, as evidenced by the term b-boying. This bubbling trio proves once again that girls can too. However, the girls are not too pleased about the gender angle.

“We regard ourselves as dancers, not as girls who dance,” Jasmine emphasises.

Hip-hop and dance fill up the space. From the first second on it is clear that this is no randomly chosen hobby. Ninde, Lisa, and Jasmine dance most of all because it is fun. They frequent clubs in Finland, meet friends and travel around the world, picking up new things and meeting new people. The most important thing, however, is hip-hop, but what exactly does it stand for?

“It doesn’t stand for anything for me. I stand for it, it’s inside me, and it’s how I’ve always lived,” stresses Ninde and Lisa continues. “It’s quite a lot like religion. It becomes a part of you, and through it you can express what you feel.”

These girls are born with rhythm and movement in their blood. Star-like peal of laughter accompanies an animated discussion and the girls comment each other’s statements with shouts of man characteristic of hip-hop culture. Gender really does not matter and self-esteem is solid as a rock.

Each girl has her own project, in both music and dance, but right now dancing together is the thing.

“We are a source of inspiration for each other. The whole thing hangs on our mutual friendship.”

The atmosphere in the star interview is nowhere near settling down. It is better to join in.

What’s the thing about you then?

“The Spirit,” replies Ninde.

“The love,” continues Lisa.

And what would you like to say?

“Be free. World peace,” is the unanimous reply.

Cut! Let’s save the rest for the dance.

Heidi Kalmari