Drum Magazine Issue 2 | Page 52

50 THE URBAN MYTH Why is it that these days a person can’t pick up a magazine or switch on the telly without hearing that word ‘urban’? Jessica Wilson kicks up a fuss. W e don’t just get garage, hip hop and R’n’B artists now, oh no they’re all urban. Do you wear gold chains, Evisu jeans, Adidas trainers? Then you’re rockin’ urban style. Are you a break-dancer? A beat-boxer? Then you too are of the urban breed, my friend. Urban has become a way of classifying what is overtly cool and implicitly black. The urban label is outselling Levi’s and being stamped on more things than the Queen’s head. It seems a symptom of this strange double-platinumMoet-on-ice-‘pass-the-Courvoisier’, superficial ‘bling bling’ culture that has been consuming the media for a while now. That one nondescript, two syllable, too collective term is spewing out of presenters’ mouths and peppering the pages of newspapers. But what is this thing called ‘urban’ and how did it become so far removed from its intended meaning? For me, the word calls to mind geography lessons where it was truly rinsed out in full effect. My lardy teacher (I shall refrain from identifying the witch) taught us the differences between the urban and the suburban. Ah, how I yawned through many a lesson on urban habitats, overpopulation in the capital etc. (somebody pass me the Pro-plus). Even through the haze of sleep, I managed to gather that the term suggests something relating to the city-centre or originating from the heart of the metropolis. In whichever context, the text-book version of ‘urban’ is a spatial referential and unquestionably relates to location. Nowadays, however, the word has floated away from its roots and become more racially