36. Tupac’s Hologram

... being some thoughts on the power of music and foul language, which includes some links that you can click on to listen to some music and hear some foul language.

“I love all music - from Bach to the Beatles.” Do people still actually say that? At one time it meant that you had really comprehensive tastes but now I imagine that it can easily be interpreted as meaning that you only like really old fashioned stuff. I sometimes amuse myself by trying to update the phrase. “I love all music -from Sibelius to Slipknot” or “I love all music - from Cranford to Cradle of Filth”, but I would still be showing myself up as hopelessly out of touch. Not to mention the fact that I don’t particularly like Slipknot or Cradle of Filth, and I have never even heard anything by Cranford.

I don’t love all music. I doubt that anyone really does. I do pride myself on being able to try and appreciate any kind of music, to listen without prejudice as George Michael put it. Perhaps that is another lesson that the good Mr Shearring taught me, with his music club at sir Henry Cooper Senior High school all those years ago.

I have myself been a teacher for many years now. I work with kids who have learning difficulties, many of whom have no spoken language. I have always used music as a means of connecting with the students, and often this has meant finding stuff that they like on YouTube, and listening along with them. This has thrown up some unexpected and interesting stuff. One lad enjoyed repeated listens to Andrea Bocelli singing Con te Partito in the original Italian. Another enjoyed the Punjabi MC’s version of the theme from Night Rider. (“I like all music - from Puccini to the Punjabi MC”), but there was one time a few years ago when rap music took over my classroom, with regular contributions from Coolio, Doctor Dre, Snoop Dogg, and the N.W.A. This young lad, Edmund, had no spoken language, could be very difficult, and resisted interaction with anyone for most of the time, but he loved that music. I was aware that there was a bit of swearing and carrying on in the music and videos, but the lad was a teenager, and he loved it. I usually made sure to seek out a “clean version, and if anything risqué did slip out. I wasn’t too worried. In fact I was more concerned about some member of the management hearing it that I was about any detrimental effect it might have on the lad in question.

I started to quite enjoy the music, particularly, the funky tunes behind the words. The swagger and bravado of an oppressed group finding their voice through poetry. I felt that I could compare them to the Chartists, or the Romantics of the early nineteenth Century. I saw Tupac Shakur as Lord Byron. A towering figure, literate, political, artistic and simultaneously mad, bad and dangerous to know.

I had read that after Tupac’s death - in a drive by shooting - Snoop and Dre had gone on tour with a holographic representation of him coming on to do a few numbers at some point in every show. Apparently it was a combination of modern science, laser technology, digital 3D modelling and the sort of “done with mirrors” trickery employed in the Victorian music hall. It really captured my imagination. I had to see it, and who better to enjoy it with than young Edmund?

It is easy to find on YouTube. A few clicks of the mouse, and Tupac twas there, bathed in blue light and maybe flickering a bit, but as large as life, on stage with Snoop . It all seemed very fascinating until he started to speak, or rap. He came out with a stream of industrial level swearing which I would definitely not have got away with if anyone in authority had got wind of it. I had to switch it off very quickly and fire up something less provocative. I chose an instance of young blokes draped in gold jewellery and scantily clad lasses rapping from improbably large cars with something done to the suspension to make them appear to bounce (all done with a George Formby style accompaniment)¹.

Tupacs swearword of choice seemed to have been “Motherfucker” - such a shocking word. When I was a kid “fuck” was the gold standard of swearing. It didn’t need any extra adornment apart from maybe the addition of “off” or “ing hell” Now, like Manchester United, it has slipped down to almost a mid table position. Its glory days are mostly in the past. The C bomb and the N word are so far ahead that Fuck is almost in danger of relegation to the lower leagues with bugger, damn, gadzooks and odds bodkins, all of which would never have been permissible without being obscured by dashes or asterisks in their day. “Motherfucker” adds a level of danger to the humble “fuck”, and keeps it in touch with the top flight of cuss words.

I feel obliged to point out here that E out of the Eels used the word to great effect in the title and lyrics of a full on romantic love song back in 2001 - in a minor key with beautiful piano and strings accompaniment. If you listen to it, you won’t ever be the same.

Tupac used it like the swearword it is though. Maybe it isn’t quite as shocking in America, but in Britain it is completely uncalled for.

I have always been fascinated by swearing. I have written a number of pieces which feature it prominently, including the song “Fuck” which failed to have any impact on the music business back in 2011. Just as the following piece has had no impact on the world of poetry. Perhaps after I am gone someone will resurrect me in hologram form to recite it.

Tupac’s Hologram

I smoked some wacky baccy  
When I was on my way 
To see a concert featuring  
Snoop Dogg and Doctor Dre 
Whilst the audience were smoking pot  
And passing it around 
Snoop and the Doc did all their greatest hits  
And it was sound 
And when they'd finally finished,  
The crowd still wanted more 
So they sent on a hologram of Tupac Shakur.  
 
He did a bit of rapping  
While some funky music played 
But then he went and spoiled it  
With a right foul mouthed tirade 
I've never heard a bloke  
Say such rude things about his mother 
It was motherfucking this, that,  
And the motherfucking other 
There's no need for language like that 
He knows he didn't oughta 
He should have had his ruddy mouth  
Washed out with soap and water. 
 
I said, "I'm not listening to that 
You can if you must" 
And I put my hat and coat on  
And I walked out in disgust 
I walked into the chip shop  
And I got stood in the queue 
But guess who was in front of me,  
Swearing the air blue?  
Only that ruddy hologram of Tupac Shakur 
And the foul-mouthed little beggar  
Was giving it some more 
 
He wanted motherfucking haddock,  
Chips and motherfucking peas 
I said hold on,  
I beg your ruddy pardon if you please 
I've got nothing against holograms mate,  
Understand me? Right. 
But such language is both inappropriate and impolite 
It's thoughtless, crass, uncalled for,  
And it's downright ruddy rude 
And I walked out of the chip shop  
Cos he'd put me off my food. 
 
I thought that I'd go home  
And make myself a cup of tea 
And drink it watching telly,  
Whilst sat on my settee 
But who was there to greet me  
When I walked in through the door? 
Only that ruddy hologram of Tupac Shakur 
 
He says "If you're motherfucking brewing up pal,  
Do me a cup 
I'm spitting motherfucking feathers here,  
I need something to sup 
I take mine with motherfucking milk,  
One motherfucking sugar” 
I said “not if you're gonna talk like that  
You foul mouthed little bugger 
And besides, since when have holograms  
Drank ruddy cups of tea? 
There's something funny going on round here  
If you ask me” 
 
And then I realised the truth.  
He wasn't really there 
And when I grasped that fact  
He disappeared into thin air 
He wasn't a real hologram, just a hallucination 
All that pot I'd smoked had caused a mental aberration 
My mind had manufactured him,  
The foul mouthed little sod 
He'll not be bothering me again.  
Thank motherfucking God.  

1. talking of George Formby the gangsta… try this