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You Can't Get a Bad Rap Here

Hip-hop has caught on in China, but censorship has cleaned it up. The watered-down ditties are even used in public service announcements.

COLUMN ONE

November 12, 2004|Ralph Frammolino, Times Staff Writer

China's fascination with rap is a relatively new phenomenon. Detroit-area native Dana Burton recalled that when he came to Shanghai five years ago to teach English, the closest thing to hip-hop music he could find was a hotel lounge act with a Michael Jackson impersonator.

Burton set out to change all that by holding hip-hop parties in the backroom of a Shanghai nightclub, playing the same kind of industrial-strength gangster flows that were popular in the States.


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Although Chinese rock star Cui Jian wowed critics with the first rap song on his mid-1980s debut album, few wannabe MCs tried it because they stumbled over the Mandarin language's need for four distinct tones.

Once they conquered that, a new generation of Chinese rappers copied the hard-edged attitude of their American counterparts -- but only to a point, said Burton, who created a nationwide freestyle rap contest three years ago.

"The attitude comes out. The battle is vicious. It gets really dirty," Burton said. "But people know those limits. This is China.... Glorifying street culture doesn't translate.

"Here, it's cut and dried. If you have a gun and you shoot someone, you're going to be executed. You sell drugs, you're gone," he said.

With three national freestyle titles and a debut album, Wang's story is about as ghetto as China gets. After watching an MC Hammer video when he was 15, Wang quit school and set out to make it big as a rapper.

Like Eminem's character in the hit movie "8 Mile," Wang practiced his flows for hours each day in his bedroom. He painted graffiti on the wall of his family's compound. He later formed the group Yin Ts'ang.

The group signed a record deal for $6,000 and its debut album features a tongue-in-cheek song about the SARS epidemic, as well as the popular cut "Welcome to Beijing," a long list of the Chinese capital's tourist attractions.

But Wang, who recently moved out of his parents' home to an apartment uptown, complained about the order from his record label to change the lyrics for a song about two men sent to perdition because they had grown rich by cheating people.

The company's counter-suggestion, according to Wang: "You should do something positive about the economic development in China."

Another group called Kung Fu flaunts the wholesomeness of what its lead singer, 24-year-old Yang Fan, calls "reformed" rap.

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