Hiphopopotamus

Every radio I've owned for the past 10 years has been broken; they all play the same songs over and over again. I bring each radio to every repair shop I know and ask why every FM radio I own has broken-record syndrome. The repairmen always ignore me and go back to listening to their iPods.

Not only are songs overplayed, they lack deep, and sometimes underlying, messages. This especially holds true for 'rap' stations.

One of my favorite things to do is sparking one, turning on some old Jay-Z and letting the hi-hats and kick drums pulsate through my headphones like an irregular but rhythmic heartbeat. On the suave beat, Sean Carter reveals his once-private life as a high school dropout and crack dealer to an appreciative group of listeners that still continues to grow.

'Suckin' me in like a vacuum, I remember/ tellin' my family I'll be back soon, that was December/ Eighty-five then, Jay-Z rise ten years later/ got me wise, still can't break my underworld ties.'

This song, 'Politics as Usual,' was on Reasonable Doubt released in 1996, when storytelling, political rhetoric and tales of the daily grind and underground were still prevalent in the rap game. Artists like Mobb Deep, Nas, Gangstarr, A Tribe Called Quest and Geto Boyz started to paint the picture of a lifestyle so many of us could never imagine.

Their songs meant something. 'Juicy' was a true ashy-to-classy tale that not only chronicled Biggie Smalls's amazing climb up from a rank similar to the untouchable level in a caste system, but also told kids residing in the most dire of living situations that there was hope.

Even Freeway, far from a lyrical genius, was narrative and made strong statements. In 'What We Do,' he proposed a catch-22 that many people were experiencing. The song speaks about a job that many view as a sin, but is the only option for others.

'Don't you know cops' whole purpose is to lock us down / And throw away the key? / But without this drug shit your kids ain't got no way to eat,' the Philadelphia rapper told the world.

And now? Well … aside from dancing and blaming mistakes on a bottle of 80-proof Burnett's vodka (none of us can afford Grey Goose right now), rappers don't inspire us to do anything.

Maybe I just like the rough, rigid and sometimes heartbreaking recordings, and maybe artists nowadays are more optimistic and just want to forget about their previously desperate lifestyles.

But to me, no lyrical skill or originality is needed to make it big any more. There are artists like Common, Joe Budden, Lupe Fiasco and Raekwon who still write songs with reason and meaning, but their works don't receive any rotation by focus group-dictated radio stations.

Want to hear what you sound like on the radio? Here's what you do: think of the highest amount of metaphors possible – doesn't matter if they're relevant to the 'issue' discussed in the song – add the catchiestsample you can find, and make sure you refer to some kind of drink or dance move so females will play it at pregame parties before heading to Mojo's to hear the exact same song 10 more times.

Auto-tune is strongly recommended.

Even Jay-Z has adjusted to the current formula, basically losing the flame that sparked the rapper to record a gritty During 'On to the Next One,' the now 40-year-old rapper rapped, 'No, I'm not a Jonas Brother, I'm a grown up No, I'm not a virgin, I use my cojones.'

And this came from one of the better rap albums of 2009. If the dude still had any balls, he'd pull out another But right now, the game is an embarrassment. In the 1990s, people viewed rappers as the untalented stepsons of James Brown, John Coltrane and Michael Jackson. Imagine how these critics view today's hip-hop role models. The Billboard Chart is saturated with watered-down baby makers like 'I Invented Sex' and 'I Get It In,' along with money-motivated tunes like 'Money to Blow.'

The decline started years ago, but will continue if simple-minded artists continue to flood the charts with simple-minded songs.

E-mail: david.sanchirico@ubspectrum.com