PORTRAIT OF AN ARTIST GETTING THEIR LIFE TOGETHER
“Our mind is full of sorrow
Who will know our grief?” ― Kursugen
Scream therapy rose to prominence in the 1970s after Arthur Janov published The Primal Scream. His authorial debut launched him into the limelight as a progressive psychologist. Janov’s book was based on the Freudian theory that psychological problems are caused by the repressed pains of childhood and that they could be resolved by re-suffering these primal moments while fully expressing the pain―sometimes in screams.
Although fellow psychologists questioned the accuracy of his primal therapy methods, John Lennon was a believer. Briefly, so was Steve Jobs. In Jobs’s self-titled biography, author Walter Isaacson writes that “emotional action” attracted the Apple founder to Janov’s practice over traditional talk therapy because it involved intuitive feeling rather than rational analysis.
“This was not something to think about,” Jobs is cited saying, “This was something to do: To close your eyes, hold your breath, jump in, and come out the other end more insightful.”
Jobs would later dismiss Janov’s practice. Claiming that he offered a ready-made, buttoned down answer which turned out to be far too simplistic without yielding any great insight, but his friend, Elizabeth Holmes thinks otherwise.
“After he did it, he was in a different place,” Holmes contested. “He had a very abrasive personality, but there was a peace about him for a while. His confidence improved and his feelings of inadequacy were reduced.”
I think of rap and singing as emotional actions for the very reasons Jobs’ described. The right looped sample or trap snare will turn a rap record into a therapy session―housing private thoughts, secrets, traumas, whatever is on the artist's mind.
By growing into a confessional artform, rap has become the most popular outlet for soul bearing. This wasn’t always the norm. A recent study reported a two-fold increase in rap songs referencing mental health, suicide, and depression between the years 1998 and 2018.
Throughout those 20 years, hip-hop has grown more honest about personal stories. Some of the most exciting new artists aren’t shy about who they are, where they come from, and what they did to get here.
For example, what Scarface gave JAY-Z for “This Can’t Be Life” is more than a verse, it’s an open wound.
“Now as I walk into the studio to do this with Jig', I got a phone call from one of my nigs, said my homeboy Reek, he just lost one of his kids and when I heard that I just broke into tears,” raps the Houston legend to begin. He walks you through where he is, what he’s doing, the call he received, and his reaction to the news.
You feel like this verse isn’t for the audience, but for him, yet, it’s a verse the listener never forgets. Sincerity sticks. You believe Scarface, and that belief makes his stories memorable. Using rap as the bow, he has spent his career shooting us with arrows of introspection.
Not every rapper makes trap music, but most rappers, like most people, are trapped by a job, by a system, by a country, by something visible or invisible. No matter what you call your cell, we all have our quiet prisons. They keep us seized, held in place like a corpse in a casket.
Music, at its best, alleviates the wounds life leaves us with. Both the performer and listener are working through their struggles together. You never forget the music played en route to a job you loathe. The volume is a little louder, the lyrics are sung with greater passion, it’s a necessary ritual before entering a difficult workplace.
Even if it’s an old song, when the record has a relatable message, it breathes new life in music that has cobwebs hanging from its hooks and algae discoloring its verses.
When music is your workplace, what made the struggle bearable now leaves the scars. But war wounds are proof that we are survivors. Hip hop will never die because the culture and the genre has become a reminder of what's possible when you overcome your shortcomings.
The need to escape is at its highest. There isn’t a person I know who isn’t attempting to escape habits, contradictions, and self-consciousness. We all know the prisons we’ve created have key holes, escape is possible, but thoughts aren’t verbs. Only action and resolve make change. So scream if you need to. Just remember, actions do what words dream of.