“Most people don’t even ask me for my name,” said Mo, also known to the public as “Ova-dos.” I met him on San Fernando Rd. in Burbank as I was taking a walk, and he was trying to make a few dollars and spread the word about his music. It seemed like fate that he would approach me, a sucker for anything hip-hop. In the early stages of hip-hop, however, it was just about people like Mo, doing their thing for the love music, not for the greed, fame and all the material things that come with being a rap superstar. I was pretty startled by his response when I asked him his name, I figured a nice guy like this with a decent album should get some sort of respect, but in reality just looking around at my peers at school, I realize it’s almost impossible for a man like this to ever get his tracks on the radio. It seems as though nowadays hip-hop is going through its mid-life crisis: fancy cars, plenty of women and most of all not a care in the world. Not a care at all for being able to tell a story, or being a real artist. It’s all become garbage with a mediocre beat, but people still listen to it because of the “bling” slapped on the cover. It’s rare for a rapper to say what he or she really wants to say while getting a decent record contract somewhere outside their own home studio – if they’re even that fortunate. “Underground hip-hop tells a different,” says senior Diego Castillo, who was been listening to old-school hip-hop for ever three years. The similarities between hip-hop from the 1980’s and 1990’s and underground hip-hop is exactly that: they tell stories that are more meaningful to the general public than the select few that mainstream rappers relate to with Lamborghinis, tacks of hundred dollar bills, and skanky girls. “Now all you see is little ‘Soulja Boys’ and they just talk about women, and they really put them down,” Castillo said. “That’s not my kind of story.” Ice Cube, a local Los Angeles rapper who has won several honors throughout his rapping career, began his life as a hip-hop artist on the streets of Compton, selling tapes out of the back of his trunk with the rest of his rap group, NWA, much like the situation with Mo, selling his CDs on the street. However, not all artists get fame like Ice Cube or his fellow groupmates, Dr. Dre and Eazy E. “Nowadays people listen to beats they can dance to,” Castillo said. That general attitude is what led the youth of today to listen to music that promotes things the general public cannot even relate to, and that carry no real message. However, people like Mo give me hope that there are still those few who really embrace the hip-hop culture – and the roots for where it came from – and try to spread the same message as those rappers from the underground decades ago.