HATER!

Definition (via Hip Hop): A noun used to maliciously describe someone who is well within their rights to not like something and make them seem irrelevant.

Nobody wants to be known as a hater. Nobody. Well, except for me.

Call me a hater. I honestly don’t mind. I remember, back on a hot, blustery August evening about 2 years ago, I was sitting (trapped) in the studio with a guy that I knew who just happened to rap (I know, who doesn’t nowadays). I was actually there to hear some new music from the producer’s other artist. However, because I am a writer, MC Rappidy Rap (who will remain anonymous) felt that he needed a stamp of approval from someone with credentials in this circle jerk of yes men we call “The Industry.” I don’t think he had a clue who he was about to play his music for.

Clutching a Corona and putting my best “Yeah, I’m interested” face on, I allowed Rappidy Rap to play me a couple of songs off of his upcoming mixtape. A couple of his rappidy rappin ass friends happened to show up to offer their undying support as they proceeded to litter themselves across the congested, dimly lit studio. When the opening bars to a song that you won’t know if I told you came on, his squad of goons began nodding their head and pumping their fists like we were at a Public Enemy, N.W.A. and Eric B & Rakim concert in 1990. The obvious problem was that we weren’t. The even more obvious problem was that – hang on, I’m trying to find the appropriate verbiage.

His sh*t was grade A-dookie. It just stank up the entire room.

As the goonery brewery continued their whiplash inducing carnage, I stared intently at my Corona and acted obliviously to the pole jocking around me as I dissected every line and hook. In the background, Rappidy Rap was staring a hole through my skull with a Cheshire Cat grin on his face as he subtly nodded his head as well. He just knew that he had the greatest thing since the Sham-wow on his hands.

And then the song ended. Uncomfortable silence ensued before Rappidy Rap’s next line cut through the tension.

“So…what do you think?” he asked.

I fumbled through numerous scenarios in my head before carefully picking my words. I may come off as a jerk but the truth is that I’m honest, not malicious.

“Honestly holmes,” I sighed as I could see the blood drain from his face. “I wasn’t really feeling it. And that’s just me saying that. Somebody else may feel it but I just don’t.”

The weed carrying captains collectively dropped their jaws as Rappidy Rap’s face tightened.

“What didn’t you like? I can take constructive criticism,” he said. [Note: Kids, when someone gives you a disclaimer, understand that it usually means they can’t take it but want to try and hear your side.]

“The hook wasn’t catchy, the cadence wasn’t exciting enough and overall it just isn’t my cup of tea,” I responded. “But just because I don’t like it doesn’t really mean anything. There’s an audience out there perhaps.”

“Oh alright,” he sharply shot back. “It is what it is.” [Can someone tell me exactly what it “is” anyway? I hate sayings that absolutely have no meaning but I digress…]

As the artist that I was waiting for arrived, I realized that I was saved by the bell. Downing the last lingering puddle of my beverage, I rose from my chair to move to the other room to hear the music I actually wanted to hear. Slapping fives and exchanging pleasantries on the way out, I couldn’t have been more than 10 feet from the door when I heard one of his boys shout out the immortal verbiage that has ruined constructive criticism – and ultimately Hip Hop – across the globe.

“Awwwww…that n*gga a hater!”

HATER. It is, hands down, the worst word ever invented. Maybe, just maybe, somebody doesn’t actually like the something. God forbid that an individual has his/her own opinion. I’m not a big fan of Salmon. Does that make me a Salmon hater? I prefer the blackberry over the iPhone. Am I a iPhone hater now? If I had to choose, I’d pick LeBron over Kobe. Oh no…now I’m hating on Kobe Bryant right?

This label really sucks. Really it does.

And it has single handedly ruined the quality of our music.

Because of the word hater, an individual isn’t allowed to disagree with anything anymore. Allow me to treat you to some examples.

 “I don’t like that song.”

“You a hater!”

“I don’t think you can buy a $2 burger with $1.22 in your pocket”

“You a hater!!”

“You can’t get a job as a pathologist if you don’t finish 10^th grade.”

“You a hater!!!”

“Damn man! You stink because you haven’t showered in 8 ½ days!”

“You a hater!!!!”

Even the most logical thing can be described as hating. It’s actually sickening to see how hating can relate to everything from musical taste to downright ridiculous thing such as having champagne taste with MD 20/20 or 40oz of Old English pockets.

Never has there been a word that effortlessly shifts the blame to the person asked of their honest opinion. I’ve seen several situations firsthand where the critic was actually made perfect sense but was ridiculed so bad, he all of a sudden became the bad guy.

The truth of the matter is that if everyone would quit being scared of being labeled as a hater and would just be honest, Hip Hop would be in a better place.

If people said how they honestly felt about songs and artists, they wouldn’t be able use this bailout terminology to replace the blame for making a craptastic song. Perhaps good music would prevail.

It’s okay to tell someone that something sucks – maybe not in those terms but you get the gist. It’s equally okay for someone to genuinely not like something. If I’m not mistaken, we are individuals with our own minds right?  

Maybe MC Rappidy Rap would dig a little deeper to make better music. Maybe the junk that ends up being released would never see the light of day.

Our standards have truly sunk to depths beyond the naked eye.

And we only have ourselves to blame.

So what I’m telling you is to embrace the word hater just like corny white folks embraced Hip Hop terms like “Fa Shizzle” and “Da Bomb.” Soon enough, it won’t be cool to call someone a hater anymore. It may actually become vomit inducing.

Truthfully…

The Hater Killed Hip Hop.

But what the hell do I know? I’m just a hater.

“If I don’t like it, I don’t like it. That don’t mean that I’m hating.” © Common.

–ANDREAS HALE