kind of sad though, you don't have anything better to do with your time than to repeatedly respond to a "worthless" thread started by "worthless" poster.
thanks again for bumping this to the top for me!
newsday article:
Cashing in on a culture of violence
Dennis Duggan
March 9, 2005
Who could blame Jeffrey Smulyan, the 57-year-old lawyer, owner and founder of Emmis Communications Corp., an Indianapolis company which owns hip-hop radio station Hot 97, for not taking my phone call yesterday?
"Who is this?" a syrupy-voiced woman asked me over the phone. When I told her that I was with the press, I could almost feel her shoulders sag. Not another one of these dogs from the press.
"Uhh, he's not available," she said. No surprise there. Smulyan is probably too busy counting the money rolling in to take phone calls from nosy reporters.
"I'll have him - or someone - call you back," she promised. Smulyan, who founded Emmis in 1980, is a fan of Willie Mays and was once owner of the Seattle Mariners baseball team, which he has since sold. He has become famous as owner of the controversial Hot 97.
Hot 97, on Hudson Street, has become the chosen battleground for angry rappers, with shots fired in two separate incidents in the past four years and a stream of invective from macho rappers.
It was there in 2001 where one of Foxy Brown's followers was shot. The shooter is now in prison, and yesterday, Lil' Kim was in federal court in Manhattan trying hard to stay out of jail herself after being charged with perjury.
About a week ago, more gunfire and tabloid headlines erupted outside the station, with someone getting shot. This episode starred 50 Cent and The Game. The Game spotted his rival a few days later and challenged him to a fight.
All of this has outraged City Councilman John Liu, chair of the Black, Latino and Asian Caucus, a group of 24 City Council legislators. Liu demanded an apology from Emmis for an earlier controversy - the tsunami song parody on Hot 97 that contained a stream of ethnic insults.
Not that Smulyan came out from behind his desk to talk to Liu, the first Asian ever elected to the City Council.
"They gave us what I call a token gesture," says Liu. "They fired two people and promised to donate a million dollars to the tsunami relief fund." That check has been delivered, a spokeswoman for Emmis said yesterday.
Liu calls the station a "place where sick people are making a profit off hate, hate for almost everyone.... They have bastardized the hip-hop movement, which started when the cities were suffering from urban blight and young people began doing songs about social issues.
"Now the rappers are about violence, gangs and degradation of women," charges Liu.
Errol Louis, who once ran for the City Council and now writes a column for the New York Daily News, this week charged that "Hot 97 doesn't just romanticize violence, it actively fosters it."
Louis noted that the station also promoted a weird on-air game called Smackfest, now ended, in which female contestants slapped one another to win a cash prize for causing the worst injury.
I asked Larry Kirwan, who heads the popular rock and roll band Black 47 in New York City, for his take on the violence that seems to cling to rap.
I met Kirwan years ago when he was playing with his partner Pierce Turner at the Bells of Hell on West 13th Street. They were cutting edge to many of us then. Turner played a Moog synthesizer and Kirwan the guitar. Kirwan thinks too much is being made of the current rap culture.
"When we were growing up, the Irish and the blacks were going into boxing to try and escape from the ghettoes. I think the youth go into rap today for the same reason. That's where the money is now, and you don't have to learn to read music to sing rap, although some of their lyrics are great."
Kirwan is the author of a new memoir titled "Green Suede Shoes - An Irish-American Odyssey." One critic calls it "rock 'n' roll's 'Angela's Ashes,'" the best-selling memoir written by Frank McCourt.
Late yesterday afternoon I got a call from one of the Emmis people in public relations, who sounded as though she was taking a call from a prosecutor's office.
And no, Smulyan wasn't available for a chat, nor was Rick Cummings, the president of the company's radio division.
No matter, the money is pouring in. 50 Cent is now on the cover of influential Vibe magazine this month. And the Rev. Al Sharpton wants a seat at the table as well.
I called the Rev. Al, but, like Smulyan, he didn't return my call. But the reverend has an unerring eye for the gold and for making himself famous. He wants the radio industry to crack down on its bad rappers. And if the radio owners send his Harlem headquarters a check to keep him quiet, well that's part of the cost of doing business.