Word: rapping
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...that passion is being aroused, oddly, by possibly the catchiest, most democratic radio format yet invented. Jack mixes up a lot of '80s music--some classic rock, a slew of one-hit wonders, a few oldies, a touch of Top 40 and a tiny bit of rap. It has surgically removed everything that is annoying about radio. In most markets, Jack is just music--no weather, no traffic, no song IDs--and is completely automated, so there aren't even any wrongheaded DJs to endure. At 1,200 songs, the playlists are three times bigger than average, so it doesn...
...part of any 13-year-old's life. Sometimes I can't live without it. Some adults say it's a racket, but our music explains our situation in a way that we ourselves cannot express. The dominant type of music I like is hip-hop, rap and R&B. Some of my favorites are: Ludacris, Mary J. Blige, Missy Elliott, LL Cool J, Trina, Outkast and Janet Jackson...
...think that the stuff I eat is pretty ordinary. I eat calamari, tuna, pineapple pizza, and tomatoes. Lots of my friends would shy away from these, but I enjoy them. Some things that set me apart from the crowd are that I don't like a lot of rap, I listen to a load of oldies, I'm smart but well liked by most, I'm not artistic, I'm not great at sports, but I can do a little of both. Most of my experience lies in music. I play piano, sing in a choir, play trumpet, and ring...
...paved with gold." Some migrants would find both more and less than they expected; others would arrive at a creative life, where the memory of their homeland would become grist for their art. In many ways, these souls are still in transit. The rhymes of Bill Urale, the Auckland rap star also known as King Kapisi, echo out across the Pacific: "You are immersed in a vision cultivated by this Samoan / Strong is my brethren Samoa mo Samoa?" And as a filmmaker, his sister Sima projects an image of her homeland just as fixed and fervent. "You can never lose...
...suburban street in northern New Jersey, a teenage boy turns to a friend and asks impatiently, "What did you get? I'll give you some of this"--indicating a bottle of Ritalin stuffed into the front pocket of his backpack--"for some of that painkiller." As a rap song plays just loud enough not to disturb the neighbors, his friend eyes the bottle suspiciously. "Is this generic, or is it the good stuff?" he asks. Upstairs, several teens are sitting at the kitchen table listening to a girl who looks to be about 15 tell how she got the narcotic...