The Internet is invariably filled with discourse in alignment with whatever headlines are trending in an increasingly short news cycle. As I lay in bed this month and swiped aimlessly through different social media feeds, I saw more than a few comment sections debating a trivial issue: What constitutes a lazy song? With my headphones on and my interest piqued, I noticed that much of the discourse leaned toward the idea that sampling is pedestrian.
Feeling chronically online, I rolled my eyes and closed each social media app. With a couple of brain cells depleted and a general lack of productivity, I did some critical thinking of my own to refire the synapses in my neurons.
There is something inherently wrong with calling an entire musical practice lazy which extends past an unfamiliarity with song production. Underlying this petty, ‘insubstantial’ debate is a subliminal message of what American culture expects from their auditory pleasures and the messages they convey. Many of those claiming to listen to have a ‘deeper’ understanding of music (which in my experience just means they listen to shoegaze or classic rock) were the same people opinionating that sampling and were lazy.
A (VERY) brief history of sampling
De La Soul and The Beastie Boys are usually credited with popularizing sampling methods in hip-hop, though their albums 3 Feet High and Rising (1989) and Paul’s Boutique (1989), respectively, were released in the late 80s, much later than the first real uses of the method. In reality, sampling’s roots lie with Jamaican immigrants using discs and turntables to remix records in the 60s and 70s. One early deejay to use this practice was DJ Kool Herc, a founder of what would later be recognized as hip-hop. Suddenly, the possibility of arranging new beats from past compositions added an element of familiarity and nostalgia to an entirely fresh aural experience. Sampling, then, can be seen as the lovechild of the past and future; not quite the present, yet not in stasis.
It wasn’t until hip-hop further evolved that copyright laws were consequently enforced. After rapid development of the newly birthed genre, Biz Markie was sued in 1991 for copyright infringement of Gilbert O’Sullivan’s “Alone Again (Naturally).” Prosecutors condemned Markie’s sampling as theft, citing the Bible to emphasize the alleged atrocity of the issue. Lines from the Book of Exodus were consistently brought up past the opening statements, despite irrelevancy and its unprofessional nature. The judge found Markie guilty and referred the case to a criminal court, equating sampling with an egregious violation of federal law. This attitude was not shared, however, when classic rock bands such as The Beatles looped other artist’s tracks on The Beatles (1968), otherwise referred to as “The White Album” (a predecessor to sampling as we know it today).
Later, “The White Album” would be mentioned in the court of law– but only in relation to Danger Mouse’s The Grey Album (2004). Danger Mouse isolated Jay Z’s vocals from The Black Album (2003) and layered them atop The Beatles’ album. Similarly to Markie, he faced legal repercussions and condescension. At the time, and still today, people considered his feat to be simple and uninspired. Traces of the album were ordered to be eradicated from the market and online. This, to many artists, marked a turn from creative liberty toward skewed enforcement of federal law.
Sampling had long been around before De La Soul and The Beastie Boys, but it has been ascribed to rap, hip-hop, and predominantly black genres. Black artists have cultivated this mode of musicality moreso than their white contemporaries, yet have historically faced backlash for their pioneering. Legal conflicts in instances such as Markie’s or Danger Mouse’s suggest that an effort to prosecute black citizens as far as creative spheres.
So… What’s new with it?
It is often said that how culture defines and digests art reflects their values and political ambiance at the time of discussion. Though a piece may have a concise argument, the public’s interpretations —regardless of how far astray from the original message —may offer more insight than the art itself. Even so, the criteria upon which we place importance on music is influenced by Western ideals of elitism. Those who have more time to perfect theory, musicality, and instrumentation can dedicate the majority of their time to delivering more personal pieces and are accredited with trailblazing new frontiers. While music is a unique vehicle for political messaging or self-expression, there is a general misconception that it can act as an equalizer for musical prodigies of all backgrounds. In actuality, it can also fall victim to decades of elitism reinforced by waves of political crusades for Western isolationism.
High art encourages experimentation and a rejection of the status quo, choosing instead to conform to its own bubbles of ‘otherness.’ Ironically, what critics regard as high art is usually only understood by those with a privileged standpoint on its consumption. When money gives way to artistic enrichment, it is those with economic influence that differentiate prestige from the ordinary.
In other words, rich people are perhaps artist’s greatest critics (besides themselves as the creators). The public jury, us as consumers, sways to the wealthy’s verdicts.
To see chronically online people, such as myself, recycle the same dissensions from legal proceedings over three decades ago, holds relevance to today’s political climate. With the rise of tradition and attempts to preserve conservative American ideals, seeing blatant microaggressions disguised as debates on the integrity of music, is concerning. I realized shortly after scrolling through my apps that my discomfort lay with a vast acceptance of the conclusion that sampling = lazy.
When a whole genre is attributed to a technique under fire—the technique here being sampling—it can be assumed that one is acting as a scapegoat for the other.
I am not naive to the point of believing that any use of this technique is an instance of genius. There are lazy samplers, but this is not unique to one specific genre. With the need for instant gratification in the digital age, it could be argued that several artists sacrifice at least one song to the TikTok algorithm. These lazy songs are a combination of lazy lyricism, lazy sampling, lazy instrumentation, and overall lazy care.
This discussion simplifies all these nuances to make a blanket statement that is not recognized as a microaggression, but very much is. Sampling is not theft, lazy, or any other negative descriptor frequently attributed to minority groups in the United States. Arguments such as these can be dangerous because while it is ‘not that deep,’ it speaks to issues engrained in legal, political, and social infrastructures. What’s even more concerning is that it does not take a lot of research to disprove these less broad rhetorics. For instance, J Dilla’s Donuts (2006) alone shows all the different ways that sampling manifests as an art form itself. This website made by Owen Comstuck details all the samples that went into the album, and this video by Tracklib breaks down the effort that went into “Don’t Cry.” While this could be a whole separate analysis in and of itself, it goes to show that the only thing attributed to laziness are those refusing to do the research on musical processing.
The Take Away
What most online discourse shows is not just the attitudes that have swept the masses, but the lack of critical thinking and investigation that goes into our conclusions. There is a public susceptibility to adopting the same elitism repackaged into 30-second ‘think pieces’ that use buzzwords to sell a point. Perhaps it is the same ignorant naivety that underlies the idea of an ‘old soul’ who wishes for the hippie culture of the American past, or perhaps it is a more intentionally malicious dog whistle. Regardless of the thought process, the same effect is produced. Art is subject to criticism, but when identity is so deeply rooted with an art in its entirety, one must question the validity of the critic and their critique.
For now, I’ve stopped scrolling aimlessly through comment sections out of fear of losing my independent thinking. Many questions will remain unanswered in my quest to understand the direct tie between music, the legal system, and trends in political ideology, and inevitably, I will return to my guilty pleasure of a quick scroll underneath a mound of blankets. However, remixing my own research into an intellectual sample of sorts will prevent submission to dangerous blanket terms and assumptions.
Article by Citlalli Romero
Photo by Neilson Barnard
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