Veteran members of Chicago’s underground hip-hop scene, Bin Laden Blowin’ Up, truncated to BBU, have slowly been formulating an escape plan. It’s not so much a desire to break from the roots that gave them their unique blend of juke and urban boogie, but more so how to move from the lane sanctioned for hip-hop’s next, less defined generation.
“It would be nice to be able to re-calibrate where hip-hop was going “, says Jasson Perez, a third of the group, in neighborhood coffee house called the Mercury Café. It’s eyelid heavy baristas and mismatched wooden chairs-to-kitchenette tables say little for the vibrancy of the neighborhood’s rebel music scene, but acts as an impromptu Geneva in a pinch. Directly across the street is Sonotheque, a Noble Square staple for such polarizing jams, heavy beats, and all around party soundtracks. In that very club, BBU once performed with Buraka Som Sistema to a packed room, for fans eager to move more than just their feet.
It would be easy to say that this fledging band is a group of hungry emcees looking for reciprocity from a cold social structure. One could argue their messaged matched with their rejection of more “hipstery” party rap, makes them the new punk rock, parlaying the same connection to the 1970’s musical movement that Harry Allen made for Public Enemy. But attaching punk rock parallels is precisely the entrenched cliché BBU looks to avoid with their hip-hop 2.0 attitude.
“Since we’re writing these political songs, they have to be really good to carry that and that people feel is hype enough to get into,” Perez offered. “We all felt that ‘conscious’ or ‘political’ music was no longer dangerous enough, but also couldn’t get you hype.” The desire to connect to a more hype feeling, partly derived from a love of hip-hop’s “golden” era, motivated BBU to place a political urgency behind a relatable desire to dance.
Illek, who linked up with the Jasson and Epic to form the group in 2007 reinforced the hurdle “music with a message” has to overcome. “I love ill lyricism, that’s one of the reasons I got into hip-hop but sometimes it’s hard to get down to that shit.” And that’s all any of us really wanna do, really. Music that hits two fold, allowing a moment of escape but houses a home for political curiosity offers something only the best artists have mastered: diversity incased in simplicity.
BBU’s current internet smash “Chi Don’t Dance” with its Goodie Mob inspired hook, has been pulling attention thanks to its simple 2 step snare and whimsical synth.
“The best thing about it is,” adds Epic, “ that people can go home and play that music and when they listen to it at home, they can hear the lyrics- whether they realize or not they chantin some political shit.“
The kids don’t really seem to be clamoring for the political shit these days, so it’s imperative that BBU keep their dynamic contribution growing as a unique addition to hip-hop. Since hometown anthems can only take you so far, the potentially of their music rests in their ability to decipher which elements of their sound congeal best with a genre that has trouble catching its footing within the paradox of gangster caricatures verses over zealous conscious rappers peddling common sense and irrefutable truth. While experiencing some staunch resistance from old heads who want PE, not some weaker, lesser-known acronym, they are finding acceptance in those who wish for their own updated dance riot.
dope dudes. had the pleasure of peforming wit them. its real good to see good indie music in Chicago getting exposure.
keep it up.