The Hate U Give (a playlist)

The Hate U Give is a really excellent book! Since it contains a lot of music, I made a Spotify playlist to accompany it. You can listen to the playlist here, and you can also hear a playlist made by the author. That one, unsurprisingly, has a lot in common with mine, though I stick closer to the text; Thomas’s chosen songs fill out a world beyond her words.

Here are the textual references and some other notes:

1. We are Toonz, “Drop That #NaeNae”

Some rapper calls out for everybody to Nae-Nae, followed by a bunch of “Heys” as people launch into their own versions.

I could have gone for Silentó’s “Watch Me (Whip/Nae Nae),” which tbh is the better song — and Thomas features it on her playlist as well as the original, but with no mention of the Whip in the text, We are Toonz made the cut.

2. iLoveMemphis, “Hit the Quan”

At Big D’s party, people Nae-Naed, Hit the Quan, twerked and stuff.

3. Drake, “Started from the Bottom”

The music changes and Drake raps from the speakers. I nod to the beat and rap along under my breath. Everybody on the dance floor yells out the “started from the bottom, now we’re here” part. Some days, we are at the bottom in Garden Heights, but we still share the feeling that damn, it could be worse.

Khalil is watching me. A smile tries to form on his lips, but he shakes his head. “Can’t believe you still love whiny-ass Drake.”

I gape at him. “Leave my husband alone!”

“Your corny husband. ‘Baby, you’re my everything, you all I ever wanted’,” Khalil sings in a whiny voice.”

Since it’s just Khalil singing, I decide the list could do without Drake’s “Best I Ever Had.”

4. 2Pac ft. Yaki Kadafi, “Who Do U Believe In?”

Khalil drops the brush in the door and cranks up his stereo, blasting an old rap song Daddy has played a million times. I frown. “Why you always listening to that old stuff?”

“Man, get outta here! Tupac was the truth.”

[…]

It’s silent in the Impala except for Tupac asking who do you believe in? I don’t know.

5. Jonas Brothers, “Play My Music”

So there’s a video deep in the depths of YouTube of the three of us lip-synching to the Jonas Brothers and pretending to play guitars and drums in Hailey’s bedroom. She decided she was Joe, I was Nick, and Maya was Kevin. I really wanted to be Joe — I secretly loved him the most, but Hailey said she should have him, so I let her.

I let her have her way a lot. Still do. That’s part of being Williamson Starr, I guess.

“I so have to find that video,” Jess says.

“Nooo,” Hailey goes, sliding off the tabletop. “It must never be found.” She sits across from us. “Never. Ne-ver. If I remembered that account’s password, I’d delete it.”

“Ooh, what was the account’s name?” Jess asks. “JoBro Lover or something?” Wait, no, JoBro Lova. Everybody liked to misspell shit in middle school.”

The Jonas Brothers presented a challenge: just which Jonas Brothers song would best capture the fandom of young Starr and friends? “Burnin’ Up” was their highest charting hit — reaching number 5 on the Billboard Hot 100 in 2008 — but the songs that resonated much more intensely with the tween target market of those Disney artists were often not the ones that charted highest. (Miley Cyrus’s best known songs, for instance, are not the ones that she performed in her Hannah Montana days.) And things are a bit weird in terms of timing, too; if we suppose the book takes place in the present day, then 16-year-old Starr would have been a middle-schooler around 2012 or 2013, a few years after the band had broken up and about half a decade since their sales peak. My theory, then, is that the girls would have discovered the Jonases through the Camp Rock movie, and so I’ve selected a song from that. A side note: do you think Starr likes Joe Jonas in his new incarnation as DNCE’s “Cake by the Ocean”–singer?

6. Taylor Swift, “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together”

7. Beyoncé, “Single Ladies (Put a Ring On It)”

8. Mary J. Blige, “Real Love”

Before Khalil, I planned to cold-shoulder Chris with a sting more powerful than a nineties R&B breakup song. But after Khalil, I’m more like a Taylor Swift song. (No shade, I fucks with Tay-Tay, but she doesn’t serve like nineties R&B on the angry-girlfriend scale.)

[…]

You know what? I’ll Beyoncé him. Not as powerful as a nineties R&B breakup song, but stronger than a Taylor Swift.

“You Belong With Me” doesn’t fit at all, but when there’s only scraps of Taylor on Spotify, you work with what you’ve got. Really, we know Starr’s talking about “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” or “Shake It Off.”

(UPDATE: Since Taylor is now on Spotify, I’ve put the more fitting “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” on this playlist in place of “You Belong With Me.”)

I’m not sure how much sting “Real Love” packs — Mary always seems more broken than vicious — but Thomas has it on her playlist, and so it’s a welcome addition to mine. I included “Single Ladies” as tonally appropriate, but also because I think Starr would think of it before she would the superior “Irreplaceable.”

9. J. Cole, “No Role Modelz”

“Nah, actually their parties are dope,” I say. “One time, this boy had J. Cole perform at his birthday party.”

“Damn. For real?” Chance asks. “Shiiit. Bitch, next time invite me. I’ll party with them white kids.”

[…]

He starts the car. This nice mix Chris made of Kanye and my other future husband J. Cole plays from Seven’s iPod dock.

Kanye’s stray mention doesn’t warrant his inclusion, but even though I’m side-eyeing Starr’s J. Cole stannery, two separate references gets him in. I have no idea what J. Cole songs his fans really love, but “No Role Modelz” has a nice beat and an OK (but very J. Cole) punchline about how he “came fast like 9-1-1 in white neighborhoods.”

10. High School Musical cast, “Get’cha Head in the Game”

Maya catches my eye, hers glimmering sneakily, and it’s middle school déjà vu.

“And don’t be afraid to shoot the outside J!” Maya shouts.

“Just keep ya head in the game,” I say. “Just keep ya head in the game.”

“And don’t be afraid to ‘shoot the outside J’,” Maya sings.

“‘Just get’cha head in the game’,” I sing.

We bust out with “Get’cha Head in the Game” from High School Musical. It’ll be stuck in my head for days. We were obsessed with the movies around the same time as our Jonas Brothers’ obsession. Disney took all our parents’ money.

Good pick: this is easily the most interesting song in High School Musical.

11. Jodeci, “Forever My Lady”

Dalvin? DeVante? I tilt my head. “Your momma named y’all after them dudes from that old group Jodeci?” I only know because my parents love them some Jodeci.

I woulda preferred “Freek’n You” in this spot, but “Forever My Lady” is way more appropriate for a woman who names her sons after multiple members of Jodeci. DeVante’s mom is in good company though: Dre and Bow on Black-ish are also calling their kid DeVante, and for the same reason. (Admittedly, Dre and Bow also called their twins Jack and Diane, so naming children might not be the strong point of their marriage.)

12. 2Pac, “Keep Ya Head Up”

13. Kendrick Lamar, “The Blacker the Berry”

We roll through the streets, Tupac blasting through the subwoofers. He’s rapping about keeping your head up, and Daddy glances at me as he raps along, like he’s telling me the same thing Tupac is.

“I know you’re fed up, baby” — he nudges my chin — “but keep your head up.”

Some reggae chants meet me in the hall, followed by Kendrick Lamar rapping about being a hypocrite.

It wasn’t until I put this playlist together that I noticed that the Pac and Kendrick songs mentioned are connected with that “blacker the berry” reference.

14. Will Smith, “The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air”

“Now this is a story all about how my life got flipped turned upside down,” Chris raps. “And I’d like to take a minute,” just sit right there, I’ll tell you how I became the prince of a town called Bel-Air.”

15. Salt-N-Pepa, “Push It”

16. Juvenile ft. Mannie Fresh & Lil Wayne, “Back That Thang Up”

Salt-N-Pepa’s “Push It” blasts from the speakers. That’s one song Daddy shouldn’t play. The only thing worse would be that old song “Back That Thang Up.” Momma loses her damn mind when it comes on. Really, just say, “Cash Money Records, takin’ over for the ’99 and the 2000,” and she suddenly becomes ratchet as hell.

She and Aunt Pam both go. “Heeey!” to Salt-N-Pepa and do all these old dance moves. I like nineties shows and movies, but I do not wanna see my mom and auntie reenact that decade in dance.

Hurts me something fierce to think that kids these days think of a Juvenile track as their parents’ music. I would have preferred the explicit version (“Back That Azz Up”), but only the clean one has that intro.

17. V.I.C., “Wobble”

18. Cupid, “Cupid Shuffle”

19. Big Mucci, “Bikers Shuffle”

The song changes to “Wobble.” Momma runs over and pulls me up. “C’mon, Munch.”

I can’t dig my feet in the grass fast enough. “Mommy, no!”

“Hush, girl. C’mon. Y’all too!” she hollers back to my friends.

Everybody lines up on the grassy area that’s become a makeshift dance floor. Momma pulls me to the front row. “Show ’em how it’s done, baby,” she says. “Show ’em how it’s done!”

I stay still on purpose. Dictator or not, she’s not gonna make me dance. Kenya and Maya egg her on in egging me on. Never thought they’d team up against me.

Shoot, before I know it, I’m wobbling. I have duck lips too, so you know I’m feeling it.

I talk Chris through the steps, and he keeps up. I love him for trying. Nana joins in, doing a shoulder shimmy that’s not the Wobble, but I doubt she cares.

The “Cupid Shuffle” comes on, and my family leads everybody else on the front row. Sometimes we forget which way is right and which is left, and we laugh way too hard at ourselves. Embarrassing dancing and dysfunction aside, my family’s not so bad.

After all that wobbling and shuffling, my stomach begs for some food. I leave everybody else doing the “Bikers Shuffle,” which is a whole new level of shuffling, and most of our party guests are lost as hell.

20. Kendrick Lamar, “Alright”

I pick up Daddy’s iPod from the patio table, our DJ for the afternoon that’s hooked up to the sound system. Scrolling through the playlist, I find this Kendrick Lamar song Seven played for me one day, right after Khalil died. Kendrick raps about how everything will be all right. Seven said it’s for both of us.

21. Stevie Wonder, “Happy Birthday”

“Happy birthday to ya!” they sing, and Momma does this not-as-embarrassing shoulder bounce. “Happy birthday to ya! Happy birth-day!”

Seven smiles from ear to ear. I turn the music down.

Daddy sets the cake on the patio table, and everybody crowds around it and Seven. Our family, Kenya, DeVante, and Layla — basically all the black people — sing the Stevie Wonder version of “Happy Birthday.” Maya seems to know it. A lot of Seven’s friends look lost. Chris does too. These cultural differences are crazy sometimes.

I don’t know what’s wrong with these white folks. I thought everybody knew the Stevie Wonder song? When I was in high school, the local pop music radio station’s breakfast show even used it as background when they read birthday announcements.

22. 2Pac, “Changes”

A Tupac song on the radio makes up for our silence. He raps about how we gotta start making changes. Khalil was right. ’Pac’s still relevant.

23. N.W.A., “Fuck tha Police”

A car stereo loudly plays a record-scratching sound, then Ice Cube says, “Fuck the police, coming straight from the underground. A young nigga got it bad ’cause I’m brown.”

You’d think it was a concert the way people react, rapping along and jumping to the beat. DeVante and Seven yell out the lyrics. Chris nods along and mumbles the words. He goes silent every time Cube says “nigga.” As he should.

When the hook hits, a collective “Fuck the police” thunders off Magnolia Avenue, probably loud enough to reach the heavens.

I yell it out too. Part of me is like, “What about Uncle Carlos the cop?” But this isn’t about him or his coworkers who do their jobs right. This is about One-Fifteen, those detectives with their bullshit questions, and those cops who made Daddy lie on the ground. Fuck them.

Glass shatters. I stop rapping.

24. Rock Master Scott & The Dynamic Three, “The Roof is On Fire”

Flames pour out both, and people cheer. A new battle cry starts up:

The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire! We don’t need no water, let that mothafucka burn!