This article is related to music, as it should undoubtedly be, because of course this an article for a music publication. I must admit, quite begrudgingly in fact, that the dreaded word of ¨race¨ runs as an undercurrent through this article. The other day, current Frequency editor, Clare Lassus mentioned that in one of her classes they read Du Bois' The Souls of Black Folk and everyone looked for the take of the lone black student in the room. Of course, the unofficial representative of the black delegation I find that I too, feel cornered many times as to what I should represent and project in the admittedly mostly lily-white world of indie-rock.

When I came to KANM four years ago, I remember that the station manager at the time was very surprised at my application because apparently in College Station not many people cared to listen to such now-considered legendary bands as, say, the Stone Roses, Primal Scream, or avant-garde electronic acts like Squarepusher. Of course, the fact that anyone in College Station cared for such music seemed a little out of the ordinary when one regards just how many Cross Canadian Ragweed and Pat Green fans number among us, but the fact that it was a black student who listened to such music had to be an all-out anomaly.

I often wonder how Tunde Adebimpe from TV on the Radio or that guitarist from Pretty Girls Make Graves take being among the sole black artists of their genres. I recall many a time organizing the racks of the hip-hop section at KANM, partly because it was disorganized and partly because no one else would have done it since very few of our shows catered to hip-hop (then and now). There comes a point, frequently, where those in a situation like this have to make a decision of precisely how they would like to be perceived. I feared being typecast as the KANM ¨hip-hop¨ guy for obvious reasons but as a huge fan of the genre I had to try to show it the love I could. That meant organizing the CD racks for that section constantly (and if no one played the albums, why the hell was it out of order so often?), asking the station manager to inquire about new releases from such alleged experimental (whatever that means) hip-hop labels as Lex Records, and making sure that drivel like the ¨G.I. Joe Killaz¨ didn’t make it to the top of the KANM hip-hop list when CMJ reports were due.

Why that was so popular at KANM is beyond me. Oh, well it’s not actually—it’s the keen eye of the suburban hipster set for irony.