Nomsaaaaain? Screw Music-Melvin Backman

A record that has been chopped and Screwed is unmistakable. The deep voices of many Houston rappers seem to become sources of profound wisdom simply from the slower, lower vocals. Already-soulful samples become wordless hymns. Already-lingering instrumental effects haunt the listener. Chopped sections become cracks in a hall of mirrors—only temporary reminders of some lost reality. The warped, hazy sound of Screw music is strange breed of psychedelic music; much of its lyrical content is hard and aggressive yet extended listening relaxes and induces a sense of drowsiness. The sound pioneered by Houston’s late DJ Screw created a culture around itself. The elements of that culture—mixtapes, cars, and drugs—are not unique to Screw music, but the way they come together is something special. Mixtapes are not just a means of promoting upcoming music, but are as important to the scene as albums in some cases. Cars are enormous models from the 1970s and 1980s slathered in candy paint color-coordinated to the owner’s neighborhood. Perhaps the most notorious aspect of Screw music culture is the drug most associated with it. The dangerous concoction of syrup—soft drinks laced with codeine cough syrup—is seen by some as essential for enjoying the music, though many disagree. The hip-hop subculture of Screw music is unique and fascinating, and it goes deeper than the occasional mainstream success of Houston’s rappers.
A discussion of Screw music culture cannot start without discussing the music itself. Houston rap can trace its genealogy to the Geto Boys, who released their first album, Making Trouble, in 1988. Instead of drawing inspiration from rap’s birthplace, New York City, the collective was influenced by the West Coast sounds coming from California (Meadows-Ingram). The sound was more laid back and the lyrics were more hard core. This West Coast influence on early Houston rap is evident; remixes to California-based rap records make up a large portion of the non-Houston content on mixtapes done by DJ Screw. The same sun whose shining creates the weather that makes West Coast records so chill shines also on Houston. This sun-baked sound only becomes warmer on a Screwed song. The heat emanates from speakers and surrounds the listener. It settles on his eyelids and puts him in a daze, allowing him to easily soak up the hand claps, keyboards, and bass lines he will often hear listening to Screw music. It facilitates a deeper connection with the music. One fan said that “Other rap, like East and West coast rap, is so fast you can't understand it. [Screw music] is slowed down so that you can understand it.” (Halverson).
DJ Screw, born Robert Earl Davis in 1970, is a man whose importance to Screw music is obvious since he is the subgenre’s namesake. He created the technique in 1991 on accident. While high on marijuana, the DJ manipulated the pitch of the records on his turntable to slow them down because the slower version agreed more with his intoxicated state of mind. He began making entire mixes of the slowed-down mixes and selling them on Maxwell tapes out of his house. The tapes are sometimes called grey tapes because Screw always bought the same grey Maxwell cassettes. Sometimes, tape sales would run as high as 120 per night of sale (Allah-Rap Pages). The tapes became extremely popular, becoming a status symbol that was important to have then as things like nice sneakers are today (Calloway, Patel). Some fans of the tapes would drive from “Dallas, New Orleans, Memphis, and even Atlanta, ready with their crisp twenties and fifties,” (Corcoran 25).
The enormous success of the tapes allowed Screw to make careers for his friends and break artists. He kept the glory for the southern part of Houston where he lived. His neighbors to the north, Michael “5000” Watts and Ron C, started their own chop shop, Swisha House. They began making slowing down their own mixtapes in an effort to represent for their own neighborhood (Calloway, Patel). In Screw music, the DJ holds a powerful role. He or she (most he in Screw music) picks the songs for the mixtapes and the instrumentals for freestyles. Crews spring up around the DJs in a manner reminiscent of early hip-hop or the selector in Jamaican sounds system culture. It is not an accident that Houston’s Screwed Up Click is named after DJ Screw and at first consisted of rappers that regularly made appearances on grey tapes, or that the Swishahouse crew owes so much of its success to the leadership of Michael Watts. The DJ’s most important role in Screw music culture, however, is applying the chopped-and-Screwed technique. The technique consists of the DJ playing two versions of the same record simultaneously, with one version playing with a small delay. The pitch is modified to slow the records down to the DJ’s satisfaction. The DJ uses a mixer to “chop” the record by switching abruptly between the two versions, which highlights the delay because entire phrases can be cut in an effort to highlight a good punch line or metaphor. This treatment is what obviously marks Screw music as such. Being able to apply the treatment expertly is imperative. On the chopped-and-Screwed version of UGK’s “International Playa’s Anthem,” OG Ron C implores the memory of DJ Screw, saying, “Don’t let these boys slop you up, man. Get your shit down right.”
The two competing factions became rivals as part of a more general north-south rivalry that began when cars from the other side of town were getting stolen. Cars from the other side were easily identifiable—North Side cars were blue and South Side cars were red (Edwards, Thompson). On the intro for the Swisha House mixtape The Day Hell Broke Loose, Michael Watts plays samples that mention toting guns and bulletproof car windows. Although car theft is serious in any case, it is even more so in Houston, where cars are such a big part of Screw music culture.
Houston is a sprawling city and cars are necessary to get around. The ubiquity of cars pushed some to try to set themselves apart. Screw music culture promotes a rather specific kind of car—the swanger. So named for the swangin’-and-bangin’ driving technique where drivers travel down the road by swerving widely and aggressively to the beat of songs playing on their sound systems, a swanger is usually a large, American-made car from the 1970s or 1980s that is bathed in paint and clear layers of paint called clear-coat with wire wheels and a modified suspension system. Sometimes the trunk of a swanger gets popped neon signs hidden inside it. Excellent examples of swangers can be seen in videos for Fat Pat’s “Tops Drop” and Trae’s appropriately-named “Swang.” Cars occupy such a special place in Screw music culture because cars are one of the predominant places to listen to the music. Sound systems are especially crucial. They can cost up to twenty thousand of dollars and can emit enough bass to blow out a candle. Michael Watts doesn’t consider a track finished until it sounds right in his car (Corcoran 26). The concert festival that celebrated Screw’s legacy, Screwfest, was half car show (Peralta 2006).
Although the big, flashy cars are a curious, amusing aspect of the subculture, a more controversial aspect always overshadows it. Drugs are a big part of Screw music culture. It might be the most positive or popular part, but it is there. Some claim that it is necessary to properly enjoy the music. Some say it isn’t. Some say that Screw music culture perpetuates drug abuse.
Screw music by no means sets a precedent for the attachment of drug use within the context of a musical movement. Bebop had heroine. Psychedelic rock had LSD. The rave scene had ecstasy. A number of drugs circulate the Screw music scene: marijuana, marijuana cigarettes dipped in embalming fluid to create “fry,” and—last but not least—syrup. Syrup is strongly associated with Screw music, but not without reason. Cough syrup containing codeine and/or promethazine mixed with soft drinks and candy is often shouted out lyrics and most Screw music musicians are not shy about their consumption of the substance. Rapper Big Moe produced an album called City of Syrup in reference to the concoction. The lead single from the album was “Barre Baby,” a song about syrup, which is also called barre or lean (because it makes one lean). His obituary read, “Whereas DJ Screw turned a codeine trip into slow, chopped beats and raps, Moe turned it into celebratory psychedelia” (Peralta 2007).
Some believe that syrup killed Big Moe. When DJ Screw died in 2000, he had toxic levels of codeine in his system (Hall). When Pimp C of UGK died, an unmarked bottle of syrup was found at his side (Winton).
There is some debate about the role of illicit substances in the enjoyment of Screw music. On the liner notes for the album 3 n da Mornin’, DJ Screw told gave fans listening instructions: “Get with your click and go to that other level by sippin' syrup, gin'' or ''whatever gets you to that other level” (qtd. in Strauss). The depressant effects of the codeine syrup supposedly allow to better feel the music. Screw acknowledged that many fans did not drink or smoke and admitted to being ambivalent about the subject (Hall). A 2003 report in the Journal of Drug Education named Screw music as a factor that encouraged young people to use syrup (Ronald, et. al).
The health detriments of codeine abuse are serious. Its opiate qualities make it high addictive. Some call it liquid crack (Washington). Rapper Bun B said that syrup made his kidneys hurt (Calloway, Patel). He put the bottle down after the death of Pimp C, who was his partner in UGK.
To say that Screw music has a strong sense of identity would be an understatement. Houston rappers lay strong claims to the practice. Some argue that they are so indoctrinated with the tenets of Screw music culture that it is reflected in the high amount of references made to things exclusive to Screw music culture (Taylor 2). This is part of the linguistics of contact in which people “use language to index social group affiliations in situations where the acceptability and legitimacy of their doing so is open to question, incontrovertibly guaranteed neither by ties of inheritance, ingroup socialisation, nor by any other language ideology” (Rampton). Screw music culture establishes its sense of self through lyrical content and identifies the other by the same method. Rappers like Paul Wall, Mike Jones, and Li’l Keke can establish their connection to Screw music culture by rattling off a list of unique cultural aspects in songs “They Don’t Know.” By identifying themselves with Screw music culture’s self, the automatically establish an other. Whereas the self is able to identify the cultural aspects and relate to it, an other—the “they” in this case—has no clue what the emcees are talking about and is cast out. As with other forms of rap, a special other is reserved for homosexuals, police informants, and those that don’t work to put food on their own plate. Candi Redd clearly shows contempt for gay men she sees on the dance floor in “Independent” on The Return of the Realest. A cowardly informant is the subject of the comedy skit “The Snitch” from The Day Hell Broke Loose. Z-Ro refuses to lend money to even friends and family on “Doing Just Fine” from The Usual Suspects.
Although the content of songs is handy for establishing identity, it makes the pinning down of genre a bit more difficult. Screw music is, without a doubt, overwhelmingly influenced by hip-hop. The use of samples, DJs, and rapping are by far the biggest aspects of the music. Screw music, however, does not fit entirely within hip-hop. The mixture of singing and singsong rapping of artists like Fat Pat and Z-Ro sometimes present in Screw music can be reminiscent of R&B at times. The content of the mixtapes also defies genre. Swishahouse’s The Real Shit finishes with an acoustic guitar-accompanied, sung version of NWA’s “Straight Outta Compton.” Some Screw tapes sometimes included non sequiturs like Phil Collins.
The Screw music culture is a fascinating one. Screwheads listen to a strange, hypnotic form of rap music. They drive huge, flashy cars. They take drugs that can lead to enlightenment, death, or both. They have a very strong sense of identity. The uniqueness and creativity on display make it an extremely interesting musical form. Nomsaaaaain?