Once, it felt like there was a cacophony of rap voices cutting across different ideologies, geographies and socio-economic classes – creatively competing for the hearts and minds of young Chinese. Chengdu rappers, Chongqing rappers and Changsha rappers. Rappers from the coasts of Guangzhou and the highlands of Gansu. Glitzy, cosmopolitan tunes from Shanghai and scrappy, rural tempos of the Northeastern “hanmai”. Hong Kong rappers, such as Fotan Laiki and Doughboy, spitting rhymes about a hometown in flux. Diaspora rappers like Bohan Phoenix, singing from the cracks of China and the United States.
Today, the Chinese cipher seems to have ossified into binary themes – love and hate, anti-China vs pro-China, fervent nationalism vs treason to the nation – making it a zero-sum game in which conflict can only be resolved by the defeat of one side by the other. Artists like Wang, Melo and Vava, among so many others, seem have forgotten that the cipher is about competition, but also community, creativity and authenticity.
Instead of creating a unique sense of self and perspective, they have decided to toe the line, parroting the Chinese authorities’ message.