What a Rap Subgenre Can Teach Us About Foreign Cultures (Part 2)

We continue our diving expedition through the annals of Ukrainian, Japanese, Russian and South African music.

In Part 1, we went on an unusual adventure into the world of foreign Trap, a wildly popular rap sub-genre, to see what we can learn about the cultures that produced it. We looked at what Trap has in common across all cultures (a lot, in turns out) but also how localized versions are unique — starting with Italian and Israeli Trap.

Today we will continue our adventure. Let’s jump back in.

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Ukrainian Trap

Sound

Like its Israeli counterpart, Ukrainian rap is also heavily influenced by local sound — though a very different one. Ukraine, it may surprise some, has emerged as Europe’s techno Mecca in the last two decades. It has embraced techno from its very earliest days as a post-Soviet republic and today is home to a sprawling underground rave culture — what even hardcore Berliners consider the real deal.

As such, it’s not surprising to hear the rave culture spill over into Ukraine’s Trap movement. While its flows are often recognizably Migos-y, its basslines tend to be much deeper, and more aggressive than American trap. Check out Grebz’ song Bicycle for a taste:

In a country where national identity is such a charged subject — more on that in a minute — it’s also cool to see traditional Ukrainian motifs weaved into Trap beats. 

This actually isn’t surprising. Ukraine was the Russian Empire’s musical capital and maintains a rich ethnic folk tradition. Ukrainian music was silenced by the Soviet Union which, in the spirit of trans-national unity (or something), literally rounded up and murdered the often-blind musicians who played it. I’m not even kidding.

Since the collapse of the USSR, however, the folk tradition has been experiencing a revival that has only strengthened with the country’s conflict with Russia. Different types of lutes, unique string instruments and Slavic singing can be heard in the background of Ukrainian trap songs, like Kalush’s song Mountains:

Lyrics

Ukrainian identity is a fraught one. The country is split between the East, oriented in its language and culture toward Russia, and the West, which speaks Ukrainian and looks to Europe and the US. Since the collapse of the USSR, most artists could choose to sing in Russian in search of wider popular appeal in the Russian-speaking world, or in Ukrainian as a way to assert independence and national pride, and hope to survive on the patronage of local audiences.

Until the Russo-Ukrainian War in 2014 threw existing differences into sharp relief, many traditional pop singers gingerly straddled the line between the two. But since the war, performers largely had to make a choice and, interestingly, many rappers chose to look West and rap in Ukrainian.

Having made this statement, it’s not surprising that their lyrics are often political, covering current affairs, social issues, national identity and folk history. Tricky Nicki’s Ride for Ukraine explores his love for his country and people in English, no doubt an explicit choice targeting a Western audience (Fake Shit, all I see is fake shit / Ukraine’s violations? / Russian news is fake shit / Talking 'bout Ukraine, shit)

Alina Pash’s latest EP is named Amerikraine Dream where she tackles with Azaelia-like flows themes of national pride and hope for future generations:

The plowers are coming with new plows / Through the Carpathian [mountains] and / Through its steppes / Glory to Ukraine among nations

Which, if it sounds like something out of the country’s national anthem, that’s because it kind of is.

The passion in the genre is truly palpable.

Videos

Ukrainian music videos have probably the most creativity per unit Trap of any culture I studied. There’s barely a bottle or a model in sight and few high-end cars, bling or any of the genre’s traditional trappings. In fact, there seems to be an aversion to opulence.

This is perhaps the latest rebellion by the youth in a country that has a history of loud youth-driven opposition to state-sanctioned corruption. The youth took to the streets by the millions in 2004 as part of the Orange Revolution to successfully protest the fraudulent election of president Yanukovich, and then again for the 2014 Ukrainian Revolution which changed the system once more.

In the US, building wealth is considered an admirable exercise in value-creation. Spending it, like earning it, is self-affirming, a testament to the journey, a validation of its worthiness. In Ukraine, this is not the case. Even with a liberal-minded, democratically elected president, opulent consumption is closely associated with ill-gotten gains. In their anti-opulence, Ukrainian artists make clear they want nothing to do with it.

Instead, Trap music videos tend to be heavily conceptual and often, well, weird. There are leather-clad camouflaged rappers making their way through the desert to spy on amazonian-like women, cops dressed like plainclothes clowns, goats in red earrings, a mob dressed in tracksuits inside a public bus, and various post-apocalyptic scenes.

Nothing to see here

The overall impression is that of an artist community trying to escape the harsh realities of life in Ukraine not by making boatloads of cash, like good capitalists should, but by letting their imaginations run wild on the canvas of their music videos.

Worth a special mention is rapper Alyona Alyona. She’s a plus-size kindergarten teacher turned female rapper hailed by Ukrainian media as the country’s biggest rap sensation (seriously). Her sound, style and lyrics are representative of the quirkiness of Ukraine’s rap scene. 

Not really sure what’s going on here either

She eschews the Slavic country’s obsession with traditional female beauty and instead embraces her size loudly while delivering quality lyrical and creative content. To take one example, she ridicules fat-shaming while poking fun at her own size (with accompanying flows that go hard) by portraying a fat camp, with her as head counselor, where the winners are the ones who gain the most weight.

Summary

Ukrainian Trap is a funky medley. It certainly draws inspiration from its American cousin in its flows, delivery and underlying beats. But its sound is uniquely influenced by Ukraine’s rave and electro culture as well as local folk tradition. Its lyrics lean political, purveying social commentary on the state of the country, its society and its future. Its videos are highly imaginative, balancing everyday life themes with fairytale and dreamlike concepts. 

Taken together, Ukrainian Trap culture is uniquely Ukrainian, reckoning with its Soviet past, unafraid to draw attention to the flaws in its present, and optimistic about its future.

Russian Trap

Sound

Compare that to Russia, Ukraine’s next door neighbor and, as of 2014, arch-nemesis. Russian Trap is also dance influenced but much different in flavor, and rarely uniquely Russian. It tends to be lighter weight, with easier flows and EDM-like — more pop-y, kinda like French Montana’s Unforgettable.

It’s also curious that Russian Trap uses fewer traditional Slavic sounds — it’s certainly not for lack of nationalistic ardor or traditional sounds. Perhaps because it seems to target a broad global audience, Russian Trap more closely mimics America’s top hits, adding little to create a unique cultural fingerprint. We will see this same theme play out in its lyrics and its music videos.

Lyrics

While Israeli lyrics are lightweight, funny and self-referential, Russian ones are... just lightweight. The vast majority of Russian Trap seems to be about celebrating opulence, drugs, parties and women, themes that will be intimately familiar to listeners of American Trap.

I have a problema / Lambo or Ferra(ri) is the hook to Morgenshtern and Timati’s latest hit. Feduk, hailed as Russia’s Drake, raps four stanzas about drinking rosé. Eldzhey strings seemingly random words together (Disconnect / Between us is an ocean / The Club / Party / Marijuana) and a ridiculous song named Champagne Squirt has a repetitive hook that goes Squirt my face / Squirt my face / Squirt Champagne in my face.

Which, according to Youtube, was an interesting enough proposition for 22 million people

American Trap inspires not just its lyrical themes, but also, its concepts, brands and culture too. Yanix raps, in Russian: “Look at me now, 40k on the new Balmains, I chug Hennessy by the gulp”. They talk about ice dripping, expensive chains and compare girls to Rihanna — all concepts imported directly from US Trap culture.

Music Videos

Russian Trap videos, too, are mostly indistinguishable from their American counterparts. They are long on fancy cars and beautiful ethnically ambiguous women and have by far the most bling of any rap culture outside of the US. 

One area where they differ, though, is in the show of machismo. While there’s plenty of it to go around in American Trap, there’s a distinctly Russian flavor to it here. It manifests as definitive — and literal — shows of strength, like Levan Gorozia taking on adults dressed as teenagers while singing Strong, Strong, Strong, True Alpha…

...Or Maks Korzh being chased by Russian mafiosi straight from central casting

This aligns with the aggressive masculinity that Russian culture has come to be closely associated with, so no surprises there.

Summary

With some tasteful exceptions, the country’s Trap mostly copies existing formulas for generating hits in replicating American sound, lyrics and videos. There are 260 million Russian-speakers spread across the world and it seems Russian rappers are loathe to create uniquely Russian Trap in the hopes that globally-tested formulas will get them the large-scale commercial success they so clearly aspire to.

South African Trap

Sound 

In some sense, South African Trap is similar to Russian. It relies heavily on standard Trap beats and mostly just sounds like something coming out Chicago, but with an accent. There’s some native melodies and a bit of Afrobeat influence, but local sounds are mostly out of stock, all used up by a different, new and equally popular genre called Ama-Piano (which, as an aside, is absolutely beautiful). 

It seems like the influence of the US, by far its largest economic and cultural trading and partner, has seeped deep into its sound. Or perhaps, rapping in English, South African rappers are performing to a global audience too.

Lyrics

But when it comes to lyrics, South African Trap is quite unique. Its flows alternate fluidly between English, Afrikaans, Zulu, Xhosa and a variety of other tribal tongues representing the country’s vast cultural diversity. Languages alternate between stanzas, within stanzas and even within sentences. Here, as a small example, is how Yanga Chief expresses gratitude to the government for legalizing weed in 2018 in Utatakho in four languages: 

Urhulumente (Xhosa for government) bring the loud (English), dankie (Afrikaans for thank you), siyabonga (Zulu for thank you)

But it goes beyond the mere fact they use multiple languages. There’s something deeply moving about hearing rappers using the language of a subjugated peoples — their subjugated peoples who suffered through decades of apartheid rule — to send a message about their ascendency and their triumph. It lends real poignancy to the otherwise vapid themes of making money and living large.

Take for instance Riky Rick’s Sidlukotini.

The song’s title is a Zulu term that means, roughly, we are eating cotton. Rick talks about his lifestyle today and how that compares to his past, with the repeated refrain of Sidlukotini serving as a a metaphor for how the rapper lives off the fruit of his ancestors’ labor. Like several others in its category, it’s a song of gratitude for the past and a celebration of the present in the language of both tenses.

Another unique feature of South African storytelling is the role of the grandmother in everyday life. Rapper Saudi talks about this in Make You Proud (When I said fuck school, YouGogo told me chase my dreams / When the devil had his way, and I thought God won't intervene / She's the one that God sent for me), as does Emtee in We Up, and Khuli Chana in Maje (My grandma told me not to slip, you soap).

Music Videos

The Grandma-appreciation theme continues in South African music videos, where they are shown both as purveyors of food and wisdom, and as the recipients of care by the-now grateful, grown (and fine China-loving) rappers.

Another unique feature of South African videos is product placement to an extent unseen elsewhere. It feels like almost every rapper has a product they’re pushing in their videos, and it’s totally normalized.

I also loved how some endorsement deals are totally out of left field, like Ricky Rick promoting Vaseline or Costa Titch making a whole song about credit scores that turns out to be an endorsement for Bettr, a digital banking app he invested in. There’s clearly no shame in squeezing the juice of capitalism’s for its every drop.

Summary

South Africa’s Trap sound is pretty ordinary and can be easily confused with any Trap songs hitting the charts in the US. But its multilingual lyrics make up for it, and both its lyrics and videos are uniquely local, reflecting the culture’s idiosyncrasies like the Grandma’s role in the nuclear family and the extra tight relationship between commerce and Trap.

Japanese Trap

Sound 

Japanese Trap sound is remarkably American-sounding. There’s little in its overall musical composition that was revealing about the culture that produced it. I didn’t find any hit Trap songs that made use of traditional sounds, for instance, nor any that pushed the genre’s boundaries.

The only discernible pattern I found is that Japan’s Trap hits tended to be darker, with more menacing flows than many of the cultures we looked at, like Israel and Italy. 

But I wasn’t really sure what to make of this... Perhaps a rebellion against a monolithic culture that promotes extreme politeness and surface-level positivity?

But maybe that’s reaching.

Lyrics

Unlike its sound, Japanese Trap has much to reveal about the culture that produced it. For one, the lyrics widely lack cursing because, it turns out, swear words have an uncool connotation in Japan. Japanese does not have (or does not use) many of the swear words that exist in other languages. 

Instead, offense or frustration is communicated through tone, or by using informal language, like the word teme (てめぇ), which literally means an insulting and informal you (gasp). They do mimic the usual themes of womanizing, partying and getting rich, but remain weirdly expletive free.  

Another anomaly is the ridicule of office life and corporatism, which is a huge part of Japanese life. It mostly comments on how depressing and meaningless the Japanese devotion to corporate life is, like in Miyachi’s Mainchi:

Check out my folder / medicine on my sofa / Japanese never miss work / got the fam to feed, for sure

Music Videos

This theme runs through their music videos too. Japanese Trap videos offer up many variations on the stereotype of the lonely office worker, the ultimate cog in society’s sado-capitalist machine, a subject to both lament and ridicule.

From Leon Fanourakis’ Bounce

Japanese Trap artists seem to position themselves on the margins, radically different from the monolithic, conformist cultures they depict and ridicule. A running theme of their music videos is a brightly-dressed rapper going H.A.M. against a backdrop of a very orderly city, its buildings neat and rectangular, its streets buzzing with suits and polite existence.

By locating themselves at society’s margins, they define what’s mainstream — in other words, not the margins. We learn about karaoke as a corporate activity, tiny apartments, the orderliness of everyday society, the cleanliness of the streets, and even how conflict averse everyday people are.

Summary

Given Japan’s role as a cultural trendsetter, I had high expectations of the country’s Trap scene. Musically, I was underwhelmed. Its sound is boilerplate Trap, and its themes are pretty narrowly distributed around Trap’s stereotypes. Japanese rappers seem further from the mainstream than their counterparts in other countries, though. This gives us a unique vantage point on what “mainstream” really means there, which is valuable in that it can be hard to glean through other genres or mediums.

Wrapping it up

When I tell people I am writing this article, the most common reaction is surprise. Trap doesn’t seem like something we can use for educational purposes, much less to learn about things like globalization, commerce and culture. But it contains that and more. Despite my best attempts, I only skimmed the surface of the richness of the Trap cultures the world offers.

But damn, are they awesome. What an incredible thing we do as humans: one group of us creates a uniquely identifiable sound rooted in that group’s history and identity; another group, on the other side of the globe, takes it and makes it their own. Makes it reflect the flavors and tastes of their own identity, their own culture, their own history. Bonded only by the universal truth of what it means to be human. 

Skrrrrt. Skrrrt.