In the first line of "Whip My Hair," Willow Smith quotes Soulja Boy: "Hopped up out the bed/turn my swag on," she sings, not only introducing her club banger about head−banging, but cementing Soulja Boy's place as Important Rapper Who Matters.
When Willow was born on Oct. 31, 2000, Soulja Boy was 10 years old. Now he's twice her age and, apparently, someone she looks up to. And we should, too.
This seems ridiculous to most people because most people don't consider Soulja Boy to be a "good" "rapper." Now, to be fair to Soulja — because so few people ever are — I do enjoy "Turn My Swag On" (2008). As a matter of fact, it was a significant song in my last relationship. But even I can sometimes enjoy things that I can't defend, — have you seen "You've Got Mail" (1998) as many times as I have? No. No one has.
But it doesn't really matter if Soulja Boy is good or not. Soulja Boy hit on a formula and it works. And he's now unquestionably important.
Do you know who else did that? William Shakespeare.
Soulja Boy Tell 'Em (DeAndre Cortez Way) does for rap music today the exact same thing that William Shakespeare did for theater in the 16th century. Shakespeare merely took ideas from other sources such as plays, poems, novels, folklore and myths and reinterpreted them through his unique lens to present them to 16th century theatergoers. This, in essence, is what Soulja Boy does, but replace all of the words in that sentence with other words: Soulja Boy merely takes ideas from other rap songs and reinterprets them through his goofy lens to deliver them, over silly FruityLoop beats, to internet−going teenagers.
"Turn My Swag On" is basically Young Jeezy's "Go Getta" (2006). "Gucci Bandana" (2008) borrows heavily from Lil Wayne's "A Milli" (2008) (in structure, at least). And Soulja Boy's most famous composition, "Crank Dat (Soulja Boy)" (2007)? It's Mr. C The Slide Man's "Cha−Cha Slide" (2000)!
If you "crank that Soulja Boy," I will "slide to the right."
Shakespeare and Soulja Boy both exist in spaces where, although it may be impossible to create anything new, original or unique, re−imagining what has been previously produced is the hottest game in town. While some rappers are out there doing their own new things, some to greater effect than others, Soulja is doing other people's old things and has money in the bank to show for it. Just like William Shakespeare.
It goes back to the argument that cliches are cliche for a reason. There is something undeniably attractive about the same idea, over and over again. It's comfortable and easy. When a "new" Soulja Boy song comes on the radio, you've almost certainly heard it before. He isn't popular because he has a groundbreaking style or some radical new ideas. He posted a video of himself doing a little dance in an empty swimming pool to a song that was simple, catchy and full of cliches, and skyrocketed to fame. Do you think it would have gone any differently for Shakespeare if he had access to YouTube?
So call him the "Bard of Atlanta," if you will. While Soulja Boy may be mocked and derided where Shakespeare was celebrated and loved, the two do share many similarities that scholars will better understand after centuries of research and debate. And who's to say that in 400 years all high school students won't be forced to write essays about "Crank Dat (Soulja Boy)"?
"Romeo and Juliet" is about melodramatic young lovers killing themselves because they're stupid, and "Crank Dat (Soulja Boy)" is about surreptitiously ejaculating on a sleeping woman and sticking a blanket to her. And one day there may be room in the classroom for both.
