The first is anyone who enjoys reading how British tabloids with an exotic fascination toward people from New Orleans might describe “this chap called Jay Electronica.” From the Daily Mail: “His lyrics contain pithy social commentary on religion, politics and civil rights - according to one song, whatever your feelings about Barack Obama, ‘the world needs to see a black man push a ‘Lac down Pennsylvania Avenue,’ a reference to driving a Cadillac to the White House. Ben and Kate resorted to tearing each other down on Twitter, culminating in Kate’s confession that Jay had “saved life.” (For his part, one of Electronica’s last tweets asks if anyone knows how he might get in touch with Ryan Leslie.) The principal characters’ Twitter feeds were scrutinized, revealing sordid details like the time Jay posted a photo of Kate riding in a helicopter, or that time when Jay scandalously “liked” a photo of Kate and her kids deplaning at the airport. But it turns out that Rothschild and Electronica know each other because, at some point in life, Rothschild decided that the most interesting way to spend her family’s fortune was to start an indie record label - Roundtable Records, a name that resonates with New World Order conspiracy buffs.
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After weathering suspicions for months, even going so far as to befriend Electronica just to see what was up - here is a photo of them hunting together! - Goldsmith discovered a series of “explicit” text messages and e-mails between Rothschild and Electronica. The unlikely Lothario was “bad-boy rapper” Electronica, who has been working on his long-gestating Roc Nation debut album in London. All was not well for the seemingly well-matched pair, who had married in their early 20s and spent the ensuing decade as society-page regulars. In the unlikely love triangle between Roc Nation rapper Jay Electronica and the scions of the Goldsmith and Rothschild fortunes, we have reason to believe again - in the power of art, love, and rap music’s renewed capacity to offend.Ībout a week ago, British tabloids began “reporting” on the imminent divorce of Ben Goldsmith - son of Jimmy Goldsmith, billionaire tycoon, financier, and inspiration for Wall Street‘s “Sir Lawrence Wildman” - and Kate Rothschild - heiress of the Rothschild banking dynasty. It’s been a while since hip-hop breached wholly new territories of taste and behavior and drove everything toward some thrillingly weird culture-clashing cul-de-sac where it didn’t so much matter whether this was a good or bad look, it was just strange that any of it was happening at all. But it’s ultimately a sign of her comfort with Jay-Z, Kanye, and their pals that she would even assume an errant, tweeted N-bomb was fine.
Making a fool of Gwyneth Paltrow is one thing - and maybe an easy thing at that. Powerful in a basic, fleeting, previously unimaginable, That shit cray sort of way.
But powerful in that purely symbolic and expectation-smashing way that hip-hop continues to be powerful, growing and expanding and colonizing new spheres of everyday life, never bothering to resolve its contradictions, conditioning generations of us instead to understand and even anticipate that strange things will continue to happen. Not powerful in any way that might effect substantive change to our political system or recalibrate the scales of economic justice or make anyone’s life better. I admit there is something strangely powerful about getting Gwyneth Paltrow to think it was not only OK to use the N-word but that it was somehow a welcome and status-confirming gesture.
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Maybe this is exactly what’s supposed to happen when two of the great artists of our time record a hit song called “N-s in Paris” and then leave it up to you to figure out how to deal with the “-” part.
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