"People worry about kids playing with guns, and teenagers watching violent videos; we are scared that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands - literally thousands - of songs about broken hearts and rejection and pain and misery and loss."
― Nick Hornby
On June 5, 2018, Miami New Times editorial intern Tarpley Hitt published a profile of sorts of rapper XXXTentacion: "The Real Story Of South Florida Rapper XXXTentaction". After going so long actively avoiding conversation, controversy, and the music of this particular increasingly popular rapper, I read Hitt's piece in its entirety. It took me a while to get through, both because of its length and detail and because I just couldn't believe what I was reading. I'd seen people exalt celebrities with questionable characteristics but with charges so graphic and present, I couldn't believe this man actually had fans the way that he did. What's worse was that the same day that I read Ms. Hitt's work, was also the same day that I'd intentionally played an XXXTentacion song for the first time-- and I liked it.
Fast forward not even one month later, X is shot and killed and I'm forced to decide whether or not I'd mourn the loss of an artist whose work I'd grown to appreciate or, like so many others, credit karma for the loss of the life of an alleged rapist and abuser.
In an essay entitled "Nobody Wins In The Story Of XXXTentacion" Lawrence Burney makes important observations about X, or Jahseh Onfroy, that highlight the musician's contradictory character:
His music spoke to young people who shared similar struggles with mental health...he directed reassuring messages to people suffering, placed him at the forefront of a movement of young rappers who became musical extensions of a national opioid and suicide crisis—one that transcends genre as well as racial and social lines.
But, even in his death, it's crucial to analyze how regularly irresponsible XXXtentacion was with his platform and influence...XXXtentacion was acutely aware of his power...And that's where the aftermath of XXXtentacion's death transcends his own personal life.
Burney describes Onfroy's fans as "cult-like", and while many fans would accept that allegation with open arms, I personally want no part of it. I am able however to appreciate music for what it is-- healing. I've never been so personally conflicted regarding an artist and their reputation before. It might have to do with that fact that I am a new fan, newly understanding the power of his artistry, coupled with his sudden death. Whatever it is, the death of this 20-year-old has given me much pause. I never understood how people could so boldly and outrageously "stan" Chris Brown despite his past. In fact, I recently read a tweet of someone defending him saying "I wish you all would just forgive this man already," a statement to which I rolled my eyes.
Through the millions of responses that X's death has garnered on social media I've seen 3 kinds of responses; fans in mourning, non-fans who celebrate the murder of an abuser and non-fans who no matter the victim will not celebrate a life taken. One observation I've made is that fans understand who this man was and what he's done. However, they aren't willing to ignore his contribution to their lives.
And, of course, it's never just about the work. What we do when we celebrate an artist is often to bolster the myth of their life.It's nearly impossible to separate art and artist when the art is a product of the artist. The artist doesn't separate himself from his art so how can we do it for him? This is even harder when an artist like XXXTentacion makes such personal work.
-Can you separate the art from the artist? , Fisun Guner, BBC
So maybe the solution here isn't so much the separation of art and artist as it is having enough empathy for the artist to be able to understand their art.