Conference Agenda

On Rico Nasty’s 2025 album, LETHAL, screaming and allusions to emo expand on her usual methods of producing hip-hop infused with nu-metal and screamo. On LETHAL she reflects a maturation and embraces her new roles as a parent and established hip-hop act. Therefore, LETHAL offers a counter to the masculine sounds and narratives that dominate the various music cultures that Rico Nasty engages with and, simultaneously, connects to lineages of what Jenessa Williams and Francesca Sobande call “Black Alt identities” (2025). Rico Nasty’s use of screaming—particularly when aligned with hardcore and emo sonic aesthetics—brings undermined identities and fandoms into the forefront of mainstream hip-hop and offers solidarities for those othered via the gender politics of scene hierarchies. This paper recontextualizes Ryan J. Mack’s (2021) analysis of controlled vs. uncontrolled screams in emo, in which both male vocal expressions reinforce a male hegemony in emo and its related scenes. Furthermore, I position Emily Ryall’s (2013) assertion that emo exploits feminine characteristics to expand the power of hegemonic masculinity within the context of Rico Nasty’s lyricism and vocal inflections. I argue that when Rico Nasty employs similar controlled and uncontrolled screams, especially to articulate lyrics that subvert the gendered expectations of hip-hop and emo, she disrupts the hegemonic structures that have informed each music culture. Subsequently, in the process of creating space for othered identities in the expressions of hegemonic whiteness and maleness, Rico Nasty reemphasizes the experiences of Black Alt participants in the imagination of countercultural scenes.

James Spooner’s 2003 documentary Afropunk grappled with the concept of identity negotiation, spotlighting Black alternative culture through interviews with Black fans and musicians. Many interviewees describe the highs and lows of being Black and alternative, notably the labeling of “safe” and “unsafe.” “Safe” are the popularized and acceptable presentations of Blackness in media and music defined by white audience perceptions. In punk scenes, “safe” also refers to “white leaning” (Spooner 2003). Confusingly, Black audience perceptions are somewhat inverted; while “safe” also means acceptable, “unsafe” targets alternative Blackness. I theorize that the concept of “Devil’s Music,” a white conservative epithet that demonized rock’n’roll during the 1950s, was adapted into Black communal spaces, thus reinforcing a musical manifestation of “post-traumatic slave syndrome” (DeGruy 2005). White conservatism in Black communal spaces thrives in the self-negotiation and generational repression of self to weaken communal support. The post-traumatic manifestation in Black communal spaces likewise repressed and rejected alternative Blackness, a learned negotiation technique as a consequence of white Christians’ explicit demonization of Black aesthetics and cultural products (Stephens 2018). With a conjoint historical overview of white “Devil’s Music” conservatism, I will analyze the Black intercommunal tension surrounding alternative Blackness—primarily Afropunk—as “unsafe,” or "white leaning," in Black communal spaces. I will connect “Devil’s Music” conservatism to internalized anti-blackness through Afropunk and American audience perceptions of rock music as “white people music,” furthering discussion on Black participation and history amidst socio-cultural erasure.

What does it mean exactly to #KEEPKPOPKOREAN? With the social media hashtag designed to keep a perceived "outsider" to the genre away, the question remains. After all, no K-Pop group emerged with the indigenous music at the forefront (Fuhr 2012). Most groups have maintained or go through a “street aesthetic,” where many of them don Black-coded features or aesthetics (i.e. box braids or grills). Musically, the genre takes from Black American genres such as hip-hop and R&B, with most groups within the industry even having their own designated rappers. Multiple groups and individual idols have also come under fire for having said the N-word, or even debuting in blackface. Do any of these aspects make the genre Korean? Fans, both domestically and internationally will claim that these musics are inherently Korean or have effectively become Koreanized, with the main assumption being that the "Korean" way is inherently better or purer. With K-pop being the most profitable export of South Korea, it is important both culturally as a nation and within the industry itself to claim Korean identity (Lie 2012). But with this clashing with the numerous instances of appropriation and appeals to Black culture, it is important to examine both the ultranationalism present within the K-Pop culture and the anti-blackness that has been perpetrated year after year. Perhaps examining these forces can help us to reckon on how to ‘keep’ K-Pop Korean or whether it was inherently Korean to begin with.