Fake Recognize Fake

Urban Dictionary defines the phrase “real recognize real” as an “idiom of hip hop culture used to refer to the tendency or ability for real individuals to identify, connect with, or otherwise respect, other real individuals.” The site offers up this hilarious sample usage:

Scalia: “I think equal protection is the most overextended rational in modern day justice”

Roberts: “agreed”

Scalia: “We see eye to eye on this don’t we?”

Roberts: “Hey, real recognize real.”

Scalia: “word”

I love Urban Dictionary, but I hate the phrase “real recognize real,” which has become - with apologies to “swagger” and “dope boy fresh” — hip hop’s most overused expression. Project Pat is only the most recent rapper to give his album this title; others include O.G. Ron C, Poe and St. Louis emcee Nite Owl. There are surely others. Lupe Fiasco has a song of that name, there’s a blog that calls itself that, and even a freaking rap group from Queens uses it as its moniker.

What’s the big deal? You may ask. Good question. I’m not sure why this bothers me so much, actually. Maybe I’m paranoid that one of these guys will see me walking down the street one day and, you guessed it, not recognize me.

But even more than that, to me it indicates the type of lazy, exclusionary thinking that’s so prevalent in hip hop. The idiom implies that They, the rapper, are the shit, while You, the listener, are a loser.

There’s something of a violent undertone to the phrase, too. It seems to indicate that You, the listener, could well be a rat. If real recognize real, then real also recognize fake, and the only reasonable course of action is to snuff you out.

This may be a bit of a stretch, but there’s no doubt this type of thinking has hurt both hurt hip hop’s creativity and its sales. Lazy masculine bravado doesn’t appeal to many people, and it actively excludes people like women and middle-aged folks. There’s about 75 percent of the record-buying public right there.

Thankfully, there are hip hop artists who recognize this and are doing things differently, to great success. Flo Rida’s “Right Round,” for example, is a good-times anthem that samples Dead or Alive’s ’80s dance floor standard “You Spin Me Round (Like A Record).” It was number one for weeks and has broken download records.

Hot on that track’s tail has been Soulja Boy’s “Kiss Me Thru The Phone,” a sweet rap ballad that has turned into his biggest hit since “Crank That (Soulja Boy).” Which makes it one more hit than anyone expected him to have.

I never imagined I’d be singing the praises of these balcony-urinating and (alleged) rabbit murdering emcees, but they both seem to have picked up on an important lesson - that gangster posturing no longer moves records.

You certainly don’t need to be “real” to recognize this; the proof is in the sales figures