Culture
Quiet hands and 1,967 ad-libs: two cultures that decided repetition was good
The phrase used in classrooms, and the instruction behind it. Julia Bascom, writing in 2011 about her own childhood: When I was a little girl, they held my hands down in tacky glue while I cried.
Ad-libs counted by DJBooth across the one hour and 45 minutes of Migos' Culture II, roughly nineteen a minute. Somebody then built a website that visualises every ad-lib on the record before it.
Two communities have independently arrived at the same position: that repeated, non-lexical sound is good. One had to fight for that position against people who held children's hands still until they stopped moving them. The other built an industry on it, counted the noises in the thousands, and sold them on t-shirts.
That contrast is the entire piece, and it is worth being explicit about what it is not. This is not a claim that any rapper is autistic. We make no claim about anybody's neurology, we have not asked the question, and we would not print the answer if we had it. It is not a claim that ad-libs are stimming: ad-libs are a composed, tracked, mixed and commercially sold musical convention, and stimming is a self-regulatory behaviour a person does because it is theirs.
It is a piece about two vocabularies of repetition, and about the fact that only one of them ever had to justify itself.
In their own words
What repetition is for, according to people who do it
The clinical literature has historically described repetitive movement and sound as a behaviour to be reduced. Autistic writers describing their own experience put something else at the centre of it, and it is usually joy.
When I was a little girl, they held my hands down in tacky glue while I cried.
My hands are more me than I am.
Behavior is communication. Not being able to talk is not the same as not having anything to say.
Julia Bascom, "Quiet Hands", Just Stimming, 2011
Bascom's earlier post on the same blog is titled The Obsessive Joy of Autism, and the title is the argument. The thing being suppressed in the first piece is the thing being celebrated in the second, and it is the same thing.
Kieran Rose, writing about his own vocal stimming, describes it in terms nobody would mistake for coping:
the roar of the Wookie has been something that has enamoured me and the act of doing it makes me feel, excuse my language, fucking good.
Kieran Rose, "An Autistic Frequency (Stimming)", The Autistic Advocate
And a participant in a 2019 study of how autistic adults describe stimming reaches, unprompted, for a musical vocabulary:
it helps you talk to yourself at a rhythmical pace, so when I'm doing this I can sort of think in the rhythm.
Participant quoted in Kapp et al., 2019. The study is about stimming generally, not about music.
That last quote is one person on one aspect of a study that is not about music, and we are not going to inflate it into more than it is. It is here because the vocabulary arrived from that direction without anyone asking for it.
The other vocabulary
Hip-hop did not invent this, and the ancestor matters
Any claim that hip-hop invented repeated non-lexical vocalisation is false and the culture would know it immediately. Jamaican deejay toasting got there first and is hip-hop's direct ancestor rather than a rival tradition: U-Roy is credited with originating the style, and Sean Paul has said he took his own onomatopoeic ad-libs from him. Dancehall gun sounds predate the trap ad-lib. Reggaeton is doing a version of it right now. Doo-wop built hooks out of nonsense syllables in the 1950s, and scat and konnakol are older than all of it.
So the honest claim is narrower, and it is a stack of four conditions. Each one alone is ordinary. Together they appear to be specific to hip-hop.
- It is a sound, not a wordNon-lexical or semi-lexical. Shared with scat, doo-wop, konnakol and dancehall. Common.
- It belongs to one person, permanentlyA signature carried across an entire catalogue. Scat is improvised and different every time; doo-wop syllables belong to the song and the group, not to a named person's lifelong identity.
- It is layered over that same person's own lead vocalThe artist becomes both the text and the commentary on the text, multitracked. Doo-wop syllables come from other singers. A hype man is a different person. This is the sharp one.
- It is repeated at industrial density and treated as an assetCounted in the thousands on a single record, visualised by fans, licensed as a producer's stamp, surviving into merch and memes independently of the song.
Condition three is the one that does the work. In doo-wop the syllables come from other singers. A hype man is a different person standing next to you. Hip-hop collapsed both roles into one voice and multitracked it, so the artist is simultaneously saying the thing and reacting to the thing. No other popular form has normalised an artist duetting with their own involuntary-sounding noise, on record, permanently.
One artist's account
Westside Gunn, asked directly, in his own words
Asked by Stereogum in 2024 why his ad-libs matter so much, he gave an answer that is notably not a description of a technique:
I guess they came naturally as I got better at rhyming. If people hear my first projects, you don't hear ad-libs as much. But as I developed more into the Fly God alter-ego, I got more comfortable and was feeling a different vibe. It started pouring out of me, naturally.
I look at them like the seasoning for a great meal.
Westside Gunn to Thomas Hobbs, Stereogum, 2024
Two things in that are worth not overwriting. He ties the ad-libs to becoming more comfortable being himself rather than to a compositional decision. And he calls them seasoning, which means he does not think they are the substance. Plenty of listeners would disagree with him about that. He is the one who gets to say.
There is a small observation available here about language, and it is about language only. It started pouring out of me
is an outflow metaphor. Kieran Rose, writing about something entirely different, describes stimming as erupting outward. People reaching to describe something that arrives unbidden reach for the same kind of image. That is a fact about metaphor. It is not evidence about anyone, and we are stating the limit in the same breath as the observation because the sentence is useless without it.
The point
One culture had to argue for it. The other charged for it.
Put the two facts from the top of this page next to each other and nothing more needs to be added to them.
In one, a repeated sound or movement is a thing to be extinguished, and the extinguishing is done to children, and the people it was done to have spent the last fifteen years writing essays explaining that it was theirs and it was good and it meant something.
⚠️ And the number deserves its caveat, since we are leaning on it. DJBooth counted repeated ad-libs individually: a run of six skrrts inside one ad-lib counts as six. So 1,967 is a count of utterances, not of distinct ad-libs, and a stricter method would return a much smaller figure. It is still 1,967 utterances. The separate fan project that visualised the previous album found that more than 70 per cent of its 2,262 lines carried at least one, which is the density claim standing on its own without the counting convention.
In the other, a repeated non-lexical sound is an asset. It is tracked, doubled, panned, printed on merchandise, counted by journalists, visualised by fans, and licensed by producers as a personal stamp. Nobody in that second world has ever had to defend the practice of making a noise because it feels right to make it.
Both communities are correct about repetition. Only one of them was ever asked to prove it.
If there is a lesson in the pairing it is not a diagnostic one. It is that whether repetition reads as expression or as symptom depends almost entirely on who is doing it and what the surrounding culture has decided it is worth. Change the setting and the identical behaviour changes category.
Method
What this piece is not saying
Where the strong version of the claim failed
The obvious headline for a piece like this is that hip-hop is the only popular music that made repetition a hook. We checked it and it does not survive. Three counter-cases break it outright, and one of them, Jamaican toasting, is not a rival but hip-hop's own parent. So the claim in this piece is the narrowed four-condition version, and crediting the lineage early makes it stronger rather than weaker.
What we could not verify, and left out
A statistic circulating online claiming a percentage of rap lyrics show autistic traits traces back to a cluster of pages we could not connect to any published study. It is not in this piece and should not be repeated. A widely quoted line from one of the essays cited here could not be matched against the primary post, so it is absent too. Several taxonomies of reggaeton ad-libs come from low-quality machine-written sources and were dropped rather than laundered through us.
What would prove this wrong
A popular form outside hip-hop that satisfies all four conditions at once, and in particular condition three: a named artist layering their own persistent non-lexical signature over their own lead vocal, across a catalogue, as a commercial asset. If that exists, the narrowed claim goes too, and we would rather hear about it than not.
Sources
Read the people quoted here
- Julia Bascom, "Quiet Hands", and "The Obsessive Joy of Autism"
- Kieran Rose, "An Autistic Frequency (Stimming)"
- Autistic Self Advocacy Network, About Autism
- Lyric Rivera, on rhythmic stimming and music
- Nick Walker, "Autism and the Pathology Paradigm"
- Westside Gunn interviewed by Thomas Hobbs, Stereogum
- DJBooth, counting the ad-libs on Culture II
- migosadlibs.com, a fan project that visualises every ad-lib on Culture
- U-Roy, and toasting, where this comes from