AccessMyLibrary provides FREE access to over 30 million articles from top publications available through your library.
Create a link to this page
Copy and paste this link tag into your Web page or blog:
ON A SUNNY SPRING DAY, Abdull Dominguez, aka "Panama," sits inside a black box recording studio at BUMP Records in Oakland, California. On his latest tracks recorded with his cousin, Rico Gilliam, Panama raps in Spanish, reflecting his identity as an Afro-Latino, while Rico raps in English. Together they're "Los Rakas," and their sound is a fusion of dancehall, reggae and hip-hop.
Panama is 18 years old, and the recording studio is at McLymonds High School. He began writing music when he was 15, a year after he moved to the United States from his namesake country.
In the last five years, music production programs for young people have blossomed. In the Bay Area alone, there are more than 10 bona fide programs, and more seem to spring up each month. At some point in the last 10 years, youth organizers and advocates realized they could address three priorities at once: reach out to urban youth who often disengaged with school, bridge the digital divide and address the ongoing problems in corporate radio such as racism, misogyny and pro-militarism.
"These programs really saved a lot of kids' lives," says Deangelo Lemmons, or "D.nok," 18, a member of Oakland-based hip-hop group the Faculty Boys. D.nok recently graduated from a continuation high school in Oakland. "Even if not all of them get famous, it's helped them in some way."
Music production education programs are usually recording studios where young people can bring in their lyrics and ideas and turn them into songs using digital recording and editing technology. Many are youth-run record labels organized like a collective, meaning young people decide what to do with the music and how to showcase their work.
Like Panama, D.nok doesn't own an iPod or any other MP3 player, nor does he have a computer at home. They don't have access to satellite radio, and only shell out cash for CDs once in a while. The assumption may be that all they're getting in terms of popular music is from urban format radio stations like KMEL or Wild 94.9 (Bay Area) or New York's HOT 97. But Panama says he limits his dose of this type of music.
"The type of music I listen to most of the time is not commercial music, just for the simple fact that they're not helping the people uplift themselves," says Panama.