Young Stunners remind us that rap’s hardest flex is still fragile masculinity

Young Stunners redefine the Urdu rap scene, but their brand of machismo remains the genre’s toughest habit to break

I suppose this piece deserves a disclaimer at the beginning lest any male rappers feel compelled to drop a diss track in my honour.

I do not claim to have a refined music palette, and my partiality for the music of Taylor Swift and Billie Eilish notwithstanding, I do appreciate the rhymes and rhythms of a good rap song. Like others in my generation, I too have undergone the rite of passage that is memorising the lyrics to Nicki Minaj’s “Super Bass” word-for-word as an adolescent.

In all seriousness though, from my positioning on the peripheries of this genre that originated and evolved in the West and is now gaining momentum in Pakistan, it is interesting to note what cultural aspects are universal and what gets lost in translation.

For anyone even slightly familiar with the music scene in Pakistan, Young Stunners is a name you cannot miss.

Although their beginnings may have been humble, the duo, composed of Talha Anjum and Talha Yunus, has vastly outgrown the term ‘underdogs’ with their musical prowess that appeals deeply to the sensibilities of South Asian listeners.

The numbers they pull on streaming platforms and live concerts alike testify to their popularity. Recently, Talha Anjum dethroned Atif Aslam as Pakistan's most-streamed artist of 2024 on Spotify. This level of skyrocketing popularity that’s made them the talk of the town, landed them on Coke Studio and bagged them a deal with a foreign label, was enough to make me check out what all the fuss was about.

While their lyricism, which in Talha Anjum’s case is inspired by the poetry of Jaun Elia, was impressive and the beats were memorable, it was certainly a novel experience. The verdict is that while I can’t say their music is my cup of tea, I can understand why it resonates with so many of my peers, especially young men.

Nevertheless, studying the influence of their art and scrutinising their persona in terms of celebrity and idol culture has been fascinating, to say the least.

Music is unlike other forms of art in the visceral way it moves us. Even though our male authors, actors, producers and singers have time and again wielded their art forms to perpetuate the same tired patriarchal and sexist tropes in literature and on screen, Young Stunners’ early music seemed keen on invoking new conversations around spirituality, struggle and success through their mic.

Along that vein, divorcing the art from the artist has been a debate as old as the one about the road less taken. But diverging from an established culture, a set way of doing things is more easily said than done.

Even Talha Anjum agrees, according to his recent interview with Dawn in which he said, “It’s about culture versus values. I’m not saying that our values are to curse in songs, lekin boss, culture yahi hai [but this is the culture].” This was said in response to a question about aspects of rap music rooted in toxic masculine ideals like cursing or aggression.

Harkening back to my earlier point about the universality of elements that define the genre, the overuse of sexist curse words and braggadocious behaviour are passed off as evolutionary outcomes of the ‘vulgarity’ and ‘rawness’ that has characterised rap from the beginning. One cannot consider themselves a rapper in essence unless they ascribe to such practices.

Whether it be settling scores with fellow rappers hurling the most tame insult your way in a bid to assert dominance or casually using derogatory curse words and acting aggressively in public gatherings, it seems the men of Young Stunners have realised how comfortable it is to go with the status quo.

That’s not to say that these are the only figures our youth has to look up to.

Stars like Hasan Raheem and Ali Sethi have made strides in establishing a kind of ‘soft lover boy’ brand for themselves and their music. Despite their popularity, however, they are not held to the same standards as perhaps Young Stunners are when it comes to the traditions of rap culture.

Plus, in a society where machismo is promoted as the epitome of ideal masculinity and asserting dominance through aggression and violent language is normalised and rewarded, it is not surprising that so many impressionable young audiences idolise celebrities that embody these values over those that challenge them.

On that note, it is also worth casting an eye over the rappers in the eastern part of the world. The up-and-coming Korean music industry that has captivated the attention of many across the globe has done so primarily through pop music. Yet, as a prolific K-pop enthusiast, I can certify that almost all groups have at least one main rapper, sometimes a whole sub-unit dedicated to the rap parts of a song.

One of the most notable Korean rappers is Suga from BTS, whose career has transformed through a wild trajectory.

Starting out as an underground rapper, debuting with a company on the verge of bankruptcy and then reaching the heights of stardom with his bandmates, Suga also faced ostracisation and criticism from the underground rap community for being an inauthentic ‘idol rapper’, a label that is meant to demean those who rap as part of a group.

The insult stems from the notion that idol rappers have ‘watered-down’ personalities that cater to mass appeal rather than unfiltered rawness that is genuine and dedicated to the craft itself.

Suga, as well as rappers from other groups, have confidently disproven these claims.

Moreover, as a Teen Vogue interviewer pointed out, BTS challenge heteronormative ideals of masculinity even in the way they present themselves and by creating their own definition of what masculinity means to them as rappers, regardless of who thinks what. Through years of experience and honing their skill, they have found the balance between the fundamental spirit of rap music and how much they can experiment with it, all without resorting to harmful ideals in the name of ‘culture’.

As listeners in this era where attention is currency, the onus is on us too, to hold our artists accountable and consume their craft consciously and responsibly. For while it is necessary to stay true to the fundamental nature of certain things, some aspects ought to change with the tide of time.