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November 7, 2007 3:54 pm
Janette Beckman knows punk when she sees it. The English photographer made her name in the late 1970s, shooting soon-to-be icons such as Joe Strummer and the Sex Pistols. When she came to the U.S. in 1982, she was quick to figure out that the punkest thing going was hip-hop. Over the next eight years, Beckman devoted herself to chronicling the nascent scene of DJs, pop-and-lock dancers, taggers, and MCs, some of whom went on to be legends (Afrika Bambaataa, Slick Rick, Eric B. & Rakim). They’re the subject of her new book, “The Breaks: Stylin’ and Profilin’ 1982-1990.” Here, Beckman talks about living “The Message,” life before stylists, and the coolest girl on the planet right now.
What was your first encounter with hip-hop?
Melody Maker sent me out to cover a show. This was in ‘82; it was the first hip-hop tour to come to London. Double-dutch dancers, rappers, breakdancers, scratchers…I’d never seen anything like it. My first real experience of it came not long after, when I came to New York to visit. The whole hip-hop thing was really in the air at that time—you’d walk down the street and see people rapping, wearing these amazing clothes. It felt important.
When hip-hop first emerged, a lot of people wrote it off as a fad. What made you think otherwise?
I think my experience of punk made it easy for me to recognize that hip-hop was a movement, much as punk had been. There are a lot of parallels. Punk was a renaissance from the streets, working-class kids making their own music, their own art, their own fashion. America doesn’t have class the way England has class, but race works in a similar way here. And a song like “The Message,” by Grandmaster Flash, I mean, that was poetry, and it was TRUE.
That old Chuck D chestnut about rap being CNN for black people…
Yes! “Rats in the front room, roaches in the back, junkies in the alley with a baseball bat.” Let me tell you, I can vouch for that song. That trip I was telling you about, in ‘82, I was staying in this loft downtown, not far from the Mudd Club, and it was terrifying. And that was Manhattan! I mean, imagine what it was like in the Bronx.
One of the astonishing things about the book is the way it catalogs the development of hip-hop style.
For me, the street style is just as important as the music. You have to recall, this was before stylists, before sponsorship deals, before there was a Gap on every other corner, before the Internet. People had to invent their own look. Huge hoop earrings, dookie chains, gold teeth…I mean, where did that come from? I don’t think we’ll ever see a style from the streets like that again, at least nothing that raw.
Of the artists you photographed, do you have any particular favorites?
Oh, well, obviously I love them all. “The Message” is still probably my favorite song. But if I had to choose, I’d have to say Salt ‘N’ Pepa. They were hysterical—rambunctious, smart, smart-mouthed.
Do you listen to any hip-hop now?
Not really, no. I’ll tell you who I’m very into, though—M.I.A. I shot her album cover in London a while ago—she asked me because she liked my Salt ‘N’ Pepa pictures, so how’s that for continuity? Maybe she is kind of hip-hop. Her energy, at least, the way she’s making it up as she goes along. As far as I’m concerned, she’s the coolest.
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