Yasiin Bay Turned My Phone Off

It was November 2019. My friend Neema was visiting from Berlin, and in tow all our college friends congregated at my Fort Greene apartment for something special. My friend’s had informed me that one of our favorite rappers, formerly known as Mos Def, was releasing an in-person only album at the Brooklyn Museum, alongside a special art exhibit. Art you can experience once and then never again kind of broke my brain in half to be honest. But what ensued was an incredibly special and unique art and human experience. One I think about all the time. One I wish I remembered better, and one that feels so unique and so rare. It’s kind of like pulling that holo charizard back in 1997. My only regret was that I did not bring a notebook and write down my favorite lyrics. Here is my memory in time: 

Beers finished. Laughs had. Old stories reminisced. We threw on our jackets and walked outside towards the Brooklyn museum. It was late 2019 and Yasiin Bey, formerly Mos Def, had dropped his super rare album Negus; it was a moment that felt both ephemeral and monumental.

As we turned a sharp left at the museum entrance, and had our tickets scanned, we were immediately asked for our cell phones. They were placed in magnetically locked bags, only to be unlocked when we finished the album and excited the gallery space. As I walked into the space a palpable sense of anticipation hung in the air. People from all walks of life had gathered, drawn together by a love for Bey’s artistry, but also for the importance of capturing this moment. As we filled into the dimly lit room, the significance of the moment continued to build in each of us. 

With our phones locked away from our eyes and fingers, the outside world faded away, replaced by the heavenly melodies of Bey’s music and the powerful imagery that adorned the walls. It was a sensory immersion unlike anything I had experienced before - a fleeting glimpse into a world of creativity and introspection. Each second that passed, each word spoken, felt so important. We heard it that one time….never to be heard again, each of us deciding how best to focus our attention, how to store these moments in our core memory. 

As the album unfolded, I found myself swept away by its raw emotion and unflinching honesty. In today’s world, when can an artist say or make something, without the fear of overdone analysis. Bey could be himself, his words a personal conversation between the audience and himself. The album’s transience added an extra layer that made the experience so special. Like a shooting star streaking across the night sky, "Negus'' was here one moment and gone the next, leaving behind only memories and echoes of its fleeting brilliance. In a world where everything moves at breakneck speed, this moment of quiet reflection felt like a precious oasis—a chance to pause, to breathe, and to connect with something greater than ourselves.

Many fans, and many publications, were upset by the exhibit, arguing that it devalued the music by making it exclusive and difficult to access, rather than celebrating it as a part of hip-hop culture. They viewed it as a departure from the accessibility and inclusivity that had defined the genre. To them, the locking away of cell phones felt like a form of gatekeeping, a deliberate exclusion from what should be a communal experience. For these individuals, the fleeting nature of the exhibit seemed to stand in stark contrast to the principles of hip hop, which had always thrived on accessibility and the democratization of art. They saw it as an antithesis to what made hip hop great—a genre born from the streets, meant to be shared and celebrated by all. Pitchfork even went out of their way to say that “If You Care About Rap, Don’t Release Your Album in a Museum”.

Till this day, in the face of criticism, Yasiin Bey has remained steadfast in his vision and artistic goals. He owes none of us anything, but the truth he feels as an artist. If for him the art feels right, and he just so happens to share it, then that is what matters. It’s worth noting that 99.99% of his published work is readily accessible for us to stream, buy or attend live. For people to say this one act is selfish, is surprising. How can one be a fan of an artist being true to themselves, but then tell them how to create or exhibit their art, especially if almost all of it is free and accessible.  

The "Negus" exhibit struck a unique chord with us at Undermind, inspiring us in countless new directions. It resonated with our experiences at underground techno warehouse parties, where phones were taped up and the focus was solely on the music. It transported us back to the early 2000s rave scene, where flip phones reigned supreme and the spirit of creative rebellion was palpable. In many ways, it catapulted us into the creative perspective of a new generation of artists, challenging us to rethink our approach to our own craft and to embrace the limitless possibilities of artistic expression.

In many ways, our encounter with Yasiin Bey's "Negus" felt like a profound gift, igniting a journey of deep introspection. It's with genuine gratitude that I reflect on the impact this experience had on us, particularly in shaping the creative vision for our own endeavors at Undermind. Bey's fearless commitment to pushing boundaries and defying conventions served as a powerful catalyst, propelling us into a realm of exploration into the intricate interplay of perception and experience. Through the immersive journey of "Negus," we unearthed a newfound appreciation for the transformative potential of art—a force capable of disrupting the status quo, provoking thought, and ultimately, inspiring change.

As I reminisce about that pivotal day, it becomes increasingly clear that "Negus" transcended mere musicality; it embodied a timeless reminder of art's boundless capacity to transcend the constraints of time and space. While the exhibition itself may have been fleeting, its echoes continue to resonate within us, serving as a poignant testament to the enduring impact of fleeting moments of profound connection. In a world often defined by transience, "Negus" stands as a testament to the enduring power of art to touch our souls, stir our spirits, and leave an indelible mark upon our collective consciousness.