Most people were taught in Musicology, that music is organized sound. In that regard, the sound that emanates from boom cars is music -- but there at the boom car window, the definition ends and the problem begins.
Virtually all people consider music to be a benign and wondrous part of our lives, if not our souls. We associate so many moods and memories with music that it is an extremely important, powerful, and meaningful element in our lives. Historically, music has been a benefit, a blessing, and even a form of worship for mankind. Good people, as most of us are, believe that even though we may not like another's music, they evidently do.
So here is another piece of the problem. We hear boom car noise and although we hate it, we have an overwhelming tendency to think of it as someone else's taste in 'music.' And we don't call the police because it is just 'music.' And the police don't respond as they should because they associate car stereos with 'music.' If it's played through a stereo system, it must be 'music.' And you think you're the one who is in the wrong if you infringe on someone else's right to hear their own 'music.'
Yes, for silly reasons, we tend to think of the sounds that emanate from boom cars (largely gangsta/porno rap with absolutely vulgar lyrics), and refer to that sound, as "music." But far more harmful than the lyrics is the noise that is being broadcast. It is organized sound, but it is not music. What you are experiencing is low frequency noise and infrasound, which can be deadly. Infrasound, to your body, is like being fed small doses of arsenic - it won't make you drop over on the spot, but over time...
Come to think of it, the military has used this technology to develop "sonic bullets" that can make a target lose his bowels or drop over on the spot. No kidding. The dangers of infrasound are well documented.
Some of the CDs made to be played on boom car systems are nothing more than low frequency and infrasound emanations (can't call those sounds because you can't hear them. But I'll bet you can FEEL them!)
Okay, everybody -- one more time -- IT IS NOT MUSIC! It is highly amplified/low frequency sound waves and infrasound. It is damaging to you and me and our children and we have both a RIGHT and a RESPONSIBILITY to restore our mental and physical health by doing everything we can to stop this acoustic rape.
For more indepth information, refer to Patrice Thomas' Boom Car Noise. It is free, it is online, and it will help you to understand the problem we are dealing with.
(Actually, they contain graphic and profane words, which we have altered to be a little more suitable for reading)
Here is an example of mainstream rap music lyrics. When you are sitting at a stoplight and some generation Y gansta is pumping this into your childrens ears at 120 decibels, no words or letters are left out. Wake up, America.
Yea-uh, f--k that, yo, I want some p---sy tonight I think I wanna f--k my b--ch Goldie and s--t Only because she got some money for me and s--it I think about f--kin her And go f--k my other b--ch that live in f--kin big houses I don't know what the f--k I'm gonna do, but check it How you spell cash? C's and some hash At last, a nigga kickin game full blast How you want it, diamonds or dime-elles Jansport bookbags and bags from Chanel And seebeeaki, smellin up my Kawasaki Jawns by Versace all them joints by Jockey Clock me workin real hard for a nickel He drive a tricycle and his pants too little And his shoes too little Won't you get with the clique with the big a-- d--ks That make sure your kicks fit The real s--t, true, balla pack steel shit The nigga with, the movie and the mill shit Mass appeal get me in the clubs for free So all you got to do for me is just Make your way to my king sized bed And lie on my pillows and my Gucci bed spread Keep your p--sy, I got other plans instead Just gimme some head, gimme some head Chorus: Ceas: If you aint suckin no d--k we don't need it, we don't need it Kim: If you aint lickin no c--ts, we don't want it, we don't want it Ceas: If you aint drinkin no nut, we don't need it, we don't need it Kim: If you aint lickin no butts, we don't want it, we don't want it [Lil' Kim] Some b--ches do and some b--ches don't Ride a d--k til he bust-s--t I know I won't Niggas cum too fast for me A waste of a good d--k if you ask me I like a nigga like to put his back in it If it's a weave f--k around and pull a track in it All I get, few strokes that's it This bomb a-s s--t's got your cigarettes lit Who me, forced to use plan B, masturbate, play with the p--sy This nigga here bust off snorin He straight, I knew this date would be borin I wanna wake him up to do his duty Nigga use that tongue, click the booty, click the booty You wanna steal the p--sy like a thief Now kiss the lips without the teeth So I could bust a nut or two come clean like Jeru Goodnight to you too boo Chorus [Cease] Nine out of ten women, want to spit, on the skin of Blake Carrington But I need much more to get raw, d--k to jaw, d--k to jaw You drinkin' babies, don't wanna hear baby stictly (yes boo) Well if he c-m up on your chest slow If not then your not down with me Little Ceasar, Van Clef, or B.I.G. Capone, Nino, or Bugsy Don't ask Kim for a date, she want her p--sy ate
Have time for a couple more great artistic works before you continue surfing?
what you niggaz tappin' on my front door for?
Hmm oh you lookin' for yo hoe? (you heard)
We in the hotel room doin' the zoom
and let me let you know nigga my heat goes boom
and my heat goes boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom
(from ‘My Heat Goes Boom’)
Great scotts, it's hot today
He ran up out of bullets so I shot him in his chest
He fell to the floor with his hands in the air
His vision gettin blurry but you know I didn't care
Peck, peck, he tried to stay on deck
So I ran up on this nigga and I shot him in his neck
Shooting like a muthaf--kin vietnam vet
Riding on this nigga disrepectin my set
No stranger to danger ain't no warning shots
On the hood gettin hot, anybody can drop
You better have a spot up in town my nigga
Cause please believe it, it can go down my nigga
Caught up in some traffic behind some hood rat
Grease strikes you out with no get back
Wishing for a steak eatin on a Kit Kat
And your b--ch ain't s--t the little homie hit that
Sit back and go see, take a trip up with me
Let's go get a stick nigga dip with me
We can ride on some niggas for nuthin at all
Even if we cool with 'em, f--k 'em let's go get 'em
LBC in this muthaf--ka cuz
I had to show these niggas what time it was
We got thugs, cons, drugs and guns
We claiming everything nigga, even dimes and doves
Have you ever slapped a b--ch to mack your grip
Or better yet, strapped a clip
To a muthaf--kin' nine millimeter for heater
(From ‘G Bedtime Stories’)