Did We Give the Sauce Away?
Jasontothetull
Jan 25, 2026
Did Black people give all of our sauce away?
Did we lose the recipes?
The history.
The culture.
The cool.
I was on Threads the other day (don’t judge me, I like to argue online recreationally), and I saw a Black person say they’d never seen Malcolm X by Spike Lee.
That stopped me.
I’m 44. Growing up, that would have been almost impossible. Not seeing that movie was like not knowing who Michael Jordan was.
Back then, we engaged with our culture. We consumed it. You could depend on almost everyone having experienced the major tentpoles. The films. The books. The shared moments that shaped us.
We knew the basics of what came before us and the work coming out during our time.
I read the books the revolutionaries wrote.
The Autobiography of Malcolm X.
Eldridge Cleaver’s Soul on Ice.
George Jackson’s Soledad Brother.
Richard Wright’s Black Boy and Native Son. Alex Haley’s Roots.
And that was normal. Not “extra woke.” Not niche. Just part of growing up Black in the city.
Even hip hop media had depth.
The Source magazine in the 90s wasn’t just about album reviews. It was informative. It told you what was happening in other cities, other countries. Music, fashion, politics, movements.
Hip hop lyrics were filled with jewels.
You’d hear a bar and end up researching books, history, religion, world events.
It made you curious. It made you sharper.
The culture had substance.
Now?
So much of it feels like fast food.
Music people listen to for a week and forget. No depth. No impact. Nothing lasting.
Hip hop fashion used to be original.
In the 80s, 90s, early 2000s, it was counterculture. We created our own look. Our own brands. Our own stores. It looked nothing like anything else. Region to region, city to city, it had its own identity.
Now rappers have stylists who dress them head-to-toe in one of a handful of extremely expensive European designers.
No thought. No creativity.
No mix and match.
Just dressed like rich white people.
That’s it.
Hip hop used to influence everything.
How you talked. How you moved. Your politics. What you bought. Your hustle. How you played ball. Who you dated. How you lived.
It was a whole ecosystem unto itself.
Now it’s been absorbed so fully into the mainstream that it feels hollow.
And here’s the wild part.
A good chunk of today’s participants seem MAGA. A good chunk don’t even fukk with Black people like that.
The very culture built as resistance, as a voice, now coexists, comfortably, with people who oppose everything it stood for. Flavor Flav wore the clock so you could know the time.
So I keep asking myself:
Did we give the sauce away?
Did we let the culture be stripped of its history, its politics, its soul, until all that was left was an aesthetic? Vague criminality? Beats but no rhymes? Rappers who don’t rap? Button pusher DJs.
Did we trade substance for access? Depth for popularity? Ownership for validation?
And if we did…
Can it be taken back?
Or is this just what happens when something born from struggle becomes global entertainment?
“I’m tryin’ to give you a million dollars worth of game for $9.99.”
Jasontothetull
Jan 25, 2026
Did Black people give all of our sauce away?
Did we lose the recipes?
The history.
The culture.
The cool.
I was on Threads the other day (don’t judge me, I like to argue online recreationally), and I saw a Black person say they’d never seen Malcolm X by Spike Lee.
That stopped me.
I’m 44. Growing up, that would have been almost impossible. Not seeing that movie was like not knowing who Michael Jordan was.
Back then, we engaged with our culture. We consumed it. You could depend on almost everyone having experienced the major tentpoles. The films. The books. The shared moments that shaped us.
We knew the basics of what came before us and the work coming out during our time.
I read the books the revolutionaries wrote.
The Autobiography of Malcolm X.
Eldridge Cleaver’s Soul on Ice.
George Jackson’s Soledad Brother.
Richard Wright’s Black Boy and Native Son. Alex Haley’s Roots.
And that was normal. Not “extra woke.” Not niche. Just part of growing up Black in the city.
Even hip hop media had depth.
The Source magazine in the 90s wasn’t just about album reviews. It was informative. It told you what was happening in other cities, other countries. Music, fashion, politics, movements.
Hip hop lyrics were filled with jewels.
You’d hear a bar and end up researching books, history, religion, world events.
It made you curious. It made you sharper.
The culture had substance.
Now?
So much of it feels like fast food.
Music people listen to for a week and forget. No depth. No impact. Nothing lasting.
Hip hop fashion used to be original.
In the 80s, 90s, early 2000s, it was counterculture. We created our own look. Our own brands. Our own stores. It looked nothing like anything else. Region to region, city to city, it had its own identity.
Now rappers have stylists who dress them head-to-toe in one of a handful of extremely expensive European designers.
No thought. No creativity.
No mix and match.
Just dressed like rich white people.
That’s it.
Hip hop used to influence everything.
How you talked. How you moved. Your politics. What you bought. Your hustle. How you played ball. Who you dated. How you lived.
It was a whole ecosystem unto itself.
Now it’s been absorbed so fully into the mainstream that it feels hollow.
And here’s the wild part.
A good chunk of today’s participants seem MAGA. A good chunk don’t even fukk with Black people like that.
The very culture built as resistance, as a voice, now coexists, comfortably, with people who oppose everything it stood for. Flavor Flav wore the clock so you could know the time.
So I keep asking myself:
Did we give the sauce away?
Did we let the culture be stripped of its history, its politics, its soul, until all that was left was an aesthetic? Vague criminality? Beats but no rhymes? Rappers who don’t rap? Button pusher DJs.
Did we trade substance for access? Depth for popularity? Ownership for validation?
And if we did…
Can it be taken back?
Or is this just what happens when something born from struggle becomes global entertainment?
“I’m tryin’ to give you a million dollars worth of game for $9.99.”
