I was recently talking to my sister about James Blake, dubstep wunderkind. Her reaction to his self-titled debut album was, "Arthur Russell did it better."
Sometimes conversations with my sister about music remind me of "High Fidelity" (2000), in which my favorite actor plays a guy named Rob who has a mild developmental disorder and knows a lot (and has a lot of weird, pretentious opinions) about music and very little about women. Rob sees his life in every song he hears, mapping every artist's output to his experiences.
Arthur Russell's "This is How We Walk on the Moon" uses the July 20, 1969 moon landing of Apollo 11 as a metaphor, one that Rob would no doubt have found a way to apply to his own life. The song, a gorgeous piece of composition, layers Russell's cello with a sparse bongo beat, a drunken brass section and his airy vocals to produce something greater than the sum of its parts: a dizzying, hypnotizing, sweetly heartbreaking four-and-a-half-minute daydream.
DMX's "Ruff Ryders' Anthem" (1998) — a song which is in no way gorgeous, dreamy, sweet or heartbreaking — flips the formula seen in Russell's minimalist techno track and uses an everyday event — a tough guy talking smack — to stand in for a historical event: Franklin D. Roosevelt's fireside chats.
While FDR's fifth cousin, Theodore Roosevelt, the 26th president of the United States, is the one commonly associated with the "Rough Riders" (the name given to his regiment from the Spanish American War, the first United States Volunteer Cavalry), DMX makes a strong case for transferring the title to our 32nd president.
"Ruff Ryders' Anthem" differs in a number of ways from Roosevelt's chats but stays true to them in many more. The fireside chats were a series of 30 radio addresses broadcasted over the first 11 of FDR's 12 years as president, used to calm the American people during the nation's most tumultuous times.
For one thing, the tone of DMX's song, which starts with "Stop, drop, shut ‘em down/ Open up shop, oh no/ That's how Ruff Ryders roll," is somewhat more confrontational than Roosevelt's addresses, which often began, "Good evening, friends." It is these differences in the language used in the song that make "Ruff Ryders' Anthem" an allegory rather than a straight homage.
Despite DMX's penchant for dropping the n-word in nearly every line, the topics covered in the song, from responding to threats of violence ("N----- wanna try … You want it? Come and get it … f------ with the wrong crew") to easing general anxiety ("Nothing we can't handle … break it up and dismantle … light it up like a candle"), mirror those covered in Roosevelt's informal addresses.
The rapper goes beyond simply referencing FDR's speeches to actually making comments about the president himself. The song makes reference to how a Rough Ryder "rolls," a clear allusion to the fact that Roosevelt was often confined to a wheelchair due to a bout with polio. It's a bold move but ultimately clears up any confusion as to what DMX is rapping about.
DMX isn't known for positivity, despite semi-retiring from rap to preach, because his actions often come across as completely insane. In 2004, for example, he was arrested at John F. Kennedy International Airport for a myriad of charges, including drug possession, criminal impersonation, criminal possession of a weapon, criminal mischief and menacing, when he was apprehended trying to hijack a car while claiming to be an FBI agent. But "Ruff Ryders' Anthem" is a loving tribute to a great American hero.
An American hero who no doubt would have done everything DMX has done, had it been necessary.
A Ruff Ryder, then, might be different than a Rough Rider, not just a wild man's misspelling. In this case, Teddy can keep his moniker. FDR's got a new clique to … you know, roll with.
