MUSIC

Cardi B and the Thin Line Between Feminism and Sexism

In the music industry, there's an incredibly thin line between feminist pride and sexist objectification. Cardi B has walked that line for a while.

Cardi B Cooks With Vogue

When record producer Jermaine Dupri name-dropped Cardi B in a tirade against female rappers, Cardi addressed his comments in a series of Instagram Live videos.

Dupri had criticised her and some of her peers, calling them "strippers rapping," and in the videos, Cardi B defended her work and former profession as expected.

But she also did more. While she defended her propensity for explicit content, she also implied that she only spends so much time talking about her genitalia because...it pays. With this admission, she was touching on a complicated double standard that has plagued women in the music industry for a long time.

Cardi B vs. Jermaine Dupri

When asked how he felt about contemporary rap stars like Cardi B, Nicki Minaj, and Megan Thee Stallion, Jermaine Dupri said, "I can't really say. I feel they're all rapping about the same thing. I don't think they're showing us who's the best rapper. For me, it's like strippers rapping and as far as rap goes I'm not getting who's the best." He added that he feels that at some point, female rappers are going to have to "talk about other things."

In her Instagram video response, Cardi said, "Okay guys I have seen a lot of people saying nowadays female rappers only talk about their p— and now that Jermaine Dupri brought it up I'm going to say something," she said. "First of all, I rap about my p— because she's my best friend and second of all it's because it seems like that's what people want to hear," she said. "When I did 'Be Careful' people was talking mad s— in the beginning like 'What the f— is this?' 'This is not what I was expecting.'"


"Be Careful" is one of Cardi B's songs that's about heartbreak, not sex. She clarified in the video that if her audiences wanted more content that wasn't sexual, she'd provide. "It's like if that's what people ain't trying to hear then I'm going to start rapping about my p— again," she said, adding that there are a lot of "female rappers who rap their asses off who don't talk about their p— and y'all don't support them. So don't blame that on us when y'all not the ones who are supporting them," she finished.

Basically, Cardi just said that she raps about sex so much because that's what sells.

Exploitation Designed as Feminism

In the music industry, there's an incredibly thin line between feminist pride and sexist objectification. Cardi's always toed that line, successfully pushing boundaries and building a cult of controversy around her.

In the past, female rappers and musicians who sang about sex and performed in a sexually provocative fashion were heavily criticized by feminists, seen as products of a music industry that profitted off selling women's bodies. This fad was partly the product of second-wave feminism, which railed against any and all stereotypes that seemed demeaning to women.

As feminism advanced, however, it became apparent that criticising women for their own choices was antithetical to women's liberation on the whole. This kind of criticism soon became known as slut-shaming; and since that theme's caught on, women who perform their hypersexuality of their own volition become celebrated and accepted.

To most, Cardi B fits into the camp of women who perform and own their aggressive sexualities. Therefore, she must be a feminist icon (even if a problematic one), right?

As her Instagram Live comments inadvertently reveal, Cardi B's decision to make hypersexuality a part of her image is not, actually, entirely her choice. Instead, it was dictated by the desires of consumers, revealing that once again, sex sells. Just like that, we're back to where we started so long ago: in a world where women perform their sexuality not because they want to, but because it makes money.

The writer Ariel Levy describes the roundabout way that exhibitionist sexuality disguised as feminism can quickly become nothing more than the very exploitation that feminism set out to destroy. This raunch culture, as she calls it, involves "[w]omen imagining that hotness of one particularly commercial mold is the highest achievement of womankind. Which," she concludes, "is essentially the perspective that people who we used to call male chauvinist pigs had." In essence, she's implying that when women feel pressured to perform their hypersexuality to express their autonomy or confidence, it's no better than men forcing them to do it.

The Madonna-Whore Dichotomy Returns

Hypersexuality is one of two main marketing platforms for female musicians. The other alternative is that of the Madonna—the virginal, pure, or motherly character who cloaks her sexuality and is therefore lovable. The whore, on the other hand, is f*ckable but not lovable. This is the textbook definition of the Madonna-Whore complex, an old binary that Sigmund Freud coined in order to explain why men feel like they can sleep with some women and fall in love with others, but not both.

Sometimes, the whore construct can be interchangeable with the tomboy archetype. Tomboy rappers like Roxanne Shanté and Salt-N-Pepa managed to escape sexual objectification by dressing and acting boyish. The same might be said for Billie Eilish and Princess Nokia today, both of whom favor baggy clothes and aggressive personas. Regardless of how powerful these women may be, it doesn't change the fact that they've built their careers around the patriarchy-built structure of the Madonna-whore complex.

And this complex has been especially hard for black women to shake off. In Western mythology and literature, black women have traditionally been equated with hypersexuality; and studies have shown that overall, black women are more sexually objectified than white women in today's world. Known as the Jezebel stereotype, this view of black women as sex objects is an offshoot of the age-old tradition by which white people dehumanize other races in order to justify marginalizing or otherwise harming them. Therefore, black women have had little opportunity to perform the Madonna: they're only palatable to white audiences when they comply with oversexualized stereotypes.

There are plenty of other examples of this dichotomy presenting itself in artists' marketing strategies. The point is: the Madonna-Whore dichotomy is always, always destructive, because it locks women into archetypes, and ignores the fact that most women are both, not one or the other.

Divides that separate women into either virginal angels or whores defined exclusively by their sexualities erase women's complexity and individuality. When female artists are criticized for being "strippers," this is no better than when women are ignored because they don't fulfill sexual fantasies or align with patriarchal, white/Western norms.

The ideal future for women in the music industry would be one where women can rap or sing about whatever they want to without judgment. Of course, in an industry driven by money, this might be difficult to achieve: But at least by becoming aware of the stereotypes that lock women into certain roles, we can make more of a conscious effort to support artists for being who they are, rather than criticizing them for conforming (or failing to conform) to rigid and flat-out stupid archetypes.

Still a Feminist

Cardi might be playing into the Madonna-Whore game, pandering to the desires and expectations of her fans, but she is still definively a feminist. Nothing shows this more clearly than the honesty she displayed in her Instagram Live videos.

In her first video, she clarified that she does love talking about her sexuality and her anatomy—while also declaring that they don't define her. She has other sides and angles; she's just not choosing to highlight them. Her main priority is making money, something she's always been straight-up about. Capitalism's incompatibility with feminism aside, she can't exactly be blamed for wanting success.

Her second Instagram response to Dupri also embodies the best of feminism, because she didn't simply defend her own image. She used her platform to uplift other female artists who she believes are deserving of more recognition. Citing rappers like Tierra Whack, Oranicuhh, and Kamiyah, she implored listeners to pay more attention to female rappers whose work doesn't revolve around their sexualities. "I feel we need to put these girls in more magazines and blogs. Radio DJs play these girls," she stated.

Tierra Whack - Whack World (Official Video)www.youtube.com

Cardi B didn't just walk the line between objectification and liberation with these videos. She annihilated it, reclaiming both as her own. Still, she's not a perfect feminist; because this doesn't change the fact that she's clearly using her sexuality to make a profit, possibly against her own true desires.

In the end, though, no one woman can be the perfect feminist. No woman should be expected to be one, either—because no woman is just one thing.

So, in conclusion, we shouldn't be judging Cardi B for choosing to perform her sexuality because it sells. However, we should be aware of the stereotypes that profit off the marginalization and division of women. We should, as Cardi B said, make an effort to listen to women of color who sing about things other than sexuality. We should question the roots of why we feel adoration or dislike for certain performers, and we should make an effort to judge women for things other than their appearance. We should question marketing platforms and overarching capitalist structures that make profit by dividing women into Madonnas or whores, while not demonizing individual women for personifying these archetypes.

So much of our tastes are collectively shaped by old stereotypes rooted in patriarchy, capitalism, or whiteness, to name a few of the categories that control a great deal of our world. Though we may never be able to totally escape these stereotypes, by slowly becoming aware of them—and by listening to women when they say we need to view women as whole human beings, not just body parts—we can start moving away from their stranglehold.

MUSIC

To Achieve Gender Equality in Music, We Need More Female Producers and Musicians

When women aren't writing, producing, and playing their own instruments, when they're singing words they don't believe in, or when they're feeling uncomfortable around all-male recording and production teams, how could they be making their finest work?

Photo by Eric Nopanen on Unsplash

Fact: 21.7% of artists in the music industry are women*.

Additional fact: only 2.1% of music producers are women.

Recently, there's been a lot of discussion about the lack of female representation in the music industry, but there's been less emphasis on the startling lack of female producers. This has to change, because in order for women to achieve real equality in the music industry—not just illusory representation in the form of overt sexualization and commodification—they need to be producing their own music.

They also need to be playing their own instruments, working their own sound systems, and signing artists to their own labels. In short, more women need to be taking control of their work.

In a recent interview, producer and artist King Princessstated that "it's tough out here for women who have a vision, and I think that the most important realization I came to in music was that I need to be the person responsible for my vision. I need to hold myself responsible and learn this shit. It's not hard, it's just daunting to be a tech god."

Miquela interviews King Princess | Coachella 2019www.youtube.com

She's right. Many women, for whatever reason, find themselves deterred from production, resigned to the idea that only men can adequately mix and master their tracks; but, in order to totally take control of their images and sounds, women need to hold themselves accountable and learn.

After all, just because a woman sings in a band and poses for press photos does not mean that her success is a victory for women on the whole. Women have been featured as vocalists in front of all-male bands since time immemorial, propped up as pretty faces while men rail on their guitars, fiddle with the levers on their soundboards, and pull the strings of the entire situation.

Plus, female frontwomen—especially in the commercial cover band industry—are often held to disturbingly sexist standards. Just look at the ads for artists on Craigslist and you'll notice that many of the calls for female vocalists specify that the candidate must be "in good shape" or even "slim," a disturbing and archaic requirement that throws the standards and requirements that haunt the music industry in stark relief.

This isn't to say that all female frontwomen are nothing more than pretty faces. It is to say that if we want to achieve gender equality in the music industry, underrepresented parties need to take up space not only behind the mic but in all aspects of performance and creative development.

First and foremost, female producers would create space for many female artists who might have otherwise been deterred from pursuing music. After all, recording studios and concert halls are dark, intimate spaces where sexual assault occurs far too often, and it's impossible to know how many women have left music industry due to bad experiences at the hands of men who feel they have the power to take advantage of them. Earlier this year, a bassist named Ava revealed that she quit the music industry because of abuse she received at the hands of Ryan Adams when she was underage; and her story is far from an isolated incident. According to The New York Times, Ava "never played another gig" after "the idea that she would be objectified or have to sleep with people to get ahead 'just totally put [her] off of the whole idea' of being a musician." Her experience is not an isolated incident.

This is a tragic but all-too-common story. But if more women were to take up production, claiming these traditionally masculine spaces as their own and creating safe environments for young female artists, who knows what kind of alchemy could occur?

As things are now, the lack of female producers—and the concurrent number of female artists who have left the industry due to assault and intimidation at the hands of powerful men—could explain why women have been so underrepresented on end-of-year lists and in awards circuits. Plus, even if you do remain in the industry, it's quite difficult to create work that's true to your vision if you're not writing and producing at least part of it. (Rihanna can do it, but then again, Rihanna is an ageless superhuman, so that argument is irrelevant). Many pop songs with female vocalists—especially the kind that are getting pumped out by increasingly desperate LA's producers—were clearly not written by their singers, and so they're weighed down by a kind of synthetic detachment. When women aren't writing and producing, and when they're singing words they don't believe in, how could they possibly be making their finest work?

The same is true for instrumentalists. Though there are millions of extraordinary female musicians, a video of the top 10 greatest female guitarists features only a few female shredders and mostly includes songs with vocals, whereas every man in the top 10 is shown shredding on their rather phallic axes in full-on rock god mode. As long as women aren't shredding, their rock music is simply not going to be as effective as Mick Jaggers. (On the other hand, whether we really need more shredding is a topic for another discussion).

Top 10 Female Guitarists of All Timewww.youtube.com


Top 10 Guitarists of All Time (REDUX)www.youtube.com

Of course, this definitely isn't to say that women can't rock—they can and do. Many women have annihilated all expectations and gender norms, despite impossible odds, using their traumas as rocket fuel. Courtney Love transformed her anger and pain from a 1991 assault into the song "Asking For It," and she's been destroying sexist expectations for her entire career. The entire Riot Grrl movement was dedicated to bucking gender norms and bringing unruly, powerful women to the fore.

Hole With Kurt Cobain - Asking For Itwww.youtube.com

Plus, some of our greatest, most innovative (and most criminally underrecognized) guitarists and songwriters have been women—take Big Mama Thornton, the original writer of Elvis's "Hound Dog" who received precisely zero of the royalties he received from it; or Sister Rosetta Tharpe, whose work was a fundamental precursor to rock and roll; or anyone on She Shreds' list of 50 Black Guitarists and Bassists You Need to Know. So, so many female greats—women of color in particular—have been wiped from history or are just beginning to receive their due.

Similarly, though they comprise a tiny percentage of the whole, there have always been female music producers. The problem isn't that they don't exist, but that they're not recognized, argues producer Ebonie Smith, citing many who are doing excellent work but who are not receiving adequate acclaim. These include WondaGurl, the teenager who produced Travis Scott's "Antidote" and part of Jay-Z's Magna Carta Holy Grail; Nova Wav, who produces for Kehlani; Nicki Minaj's producer DJ Diamond Kutz; and hundreds of others.

Things seem to be moving forward, at least. Initiatives like Smith's Gender Amplified, Inc. are encouraging women and nonbinary people to take up production and music tech. In terms of instrumentalists, a recent Fender study found that roughly 50% of guitars purchased in 2016 were bought by women or girls; and with publications like She Shreds elevating the voices of diverse female guitarists and bassists, we'll most likely be seeing a whole new generation of players rising from the ashes, the angry cries of their foremothers ringing in their ears. For some, that generation has already arrived—for example, LA Mag recently published an article with the self-explanatory title "Women Are Saving the Electric Guitar."

The Way Ep. 5: Cherry Glazerr's Clementine Creevy Teaches "I Told You I'd Be With The Guys"www.youtube.com


Studio Politics Featuring Ebonie Smith - EPISODE 1 - "ALL IS GOLDEN, GIRLS."www.youtube.com


Still, as of now, the statistics show that far too few of the instrumentalists, composers, conductors, and record label executives who occupy positions of power are female. Of course, women are not at fault for their own historical marginalization. For a long time, women have been quietly discouraged from railing on guitars, instead advised to sit quietly at pianos or to sing prettily while men did the work. Plus, the tour and studio life often wasn't viable for mothers (though naturally, it's always been perfectly acceptable for fathers). The dearth of women in the music industry is the project of age-old systems of sexism and classism.

But things are changing. Sexism still exists, but with women comprising roughly 50% of the workforce, we can no longer use sexism as the sole excuse for why there are so few female producers. On the whole, as a society, we've moved past second-wave feminism, wherein the only goal was to get women into the workplace. But in the realm of music producers, it's like we're still living in the 1950s, when it was radical for women not to want children. Women—as well as men—are to blame for the lack of female producers in the modern era.

Perhaps the issue stems from mindset. "What the experiences of women reveal is that the biggest barrier they face is the way the music industry thinks about women," said Professor Stacey Smith, whose studies generated a report called 'Inclusion in the Recording Studio?' Smith writes, "The perception of women is highly stereotypical, sexualized and without skill. Until those core beliefs are altered, women will continue to face a roadblock as they navigate their careers."

After all, production requires a unique combination of attention to detail, technological savvy, artistic vision, and brash fearlessness. You can learn literally endless amounts about how to produce, how to mix and master and EQ every fiber of every note; but ultimately, production is taking shot after shot into the dark. It's about believing in your own ability to hear and shape the music into the form you want it to be in. It's about taking control, the kind that will remain largely unattainable to women as long as the aforementioned perceptions exist.

Hopefully, someday this dissolves and we all realize that we're all floundering in the dark together. Maybe someday we'll all understand that gender is a fluid concept, and the ability to create art is one of the things that binds us together as human beings.

But that is not the world we live in. And until that world exists, we desperately need more women behind the mixing board.

*This article recognizes that trans and nonbinary people have often been more erased and marginalized in the music industry to a much greater extent than cisgender women.


Eden Arielle Gordon is a writer and musician from New York. Follow her on Twitter @edenarielmusic.


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