In January 2014, Macklemore and Ryan Lewis appeared embarrassed to win the Grammy for Best Rap Album ahead of Kendrick Lamar’s excellent Good Kid, m.A.A.d City. Some felt that while the duo were not wholly undeserving of the award, particularly in light of the track Same Love and its support for LGBT rights, their win had more to do with their whiteness than the quality of the album. Two years on, they are back with an altogether different beast. At nine minutes and over 1300 words, the provocatively titled White Privilege II feels less like a pop song and more like a think piece designed to start a conversation about race.  Throughout the song (which has no obvious hook) Macklemore clearly takes the issue very seriously. After all, its four verses are rapped with the intensity of a man who is genuinely distressed by those sections of White America who have reacted negatively to the Black Lives Matter movement. However, the song is problematic to say the least. Not inconsiderably because the rapper is clearly confused about how, as a privileged white man, to best contribute to the debate: “I want to take a stance, because we are not free / and then I thought about it and we are not we”. Ultimately, it is self-centred examination of white privilege which ultimately places Macklemore in the unfortunate role of white-savior.

In Macklemore’s defence, he approaches the issue with a startling level of self-awareness. By comparing himself to Miley Cyrus, Iggy Azalea and Elvis Presley he is simultaneously critical of the pernicious effect of cultural appropriation while acknowledging the fact he has disproportionately benefited from black culture.

Still, at times this self-awareness borders on narcissism. His first person-account of prejudice facing people of colour serves to render him the protagonist, an entirely inappropriate position for him to occupy. Moreover, due to his white privilege, Macklemore’s universal judgements will take on added weight despite the fact that he lacks the ability to speak from a position of true authority. This coalesces to give the impression that the rapper is positing himself as a “white savior”, hell-bent on exorcising his white guilt by depicting the plight of people of colour. This is a common problem for the socially liberal white Americans that Macklemore himself attempts to address with the line “it seems like we’re more concerned with being called racist / than we actually are with racism”. This encapsulates the pity of White Privilege II. While one must assume that Macklemore means well, the song is too easily reduced to empty sloganeering and subsequently it lacks the nuance and authenticity to lay the foundations for a progressive and truly inclusive debate around race.

A cynic could even cast the track as an elaborate attempt to distance the duo from the “hipster-hop” which made their name and their hitherto predominantly white audience. As it goes, nine minute tracks about police brutality, cultural appropriation and white ignorance do not make for radio friendly unit shifters so it would appear likely that the group are prepared to alienate some of their less politically progressive fans. White Privilege II then is clearly not hip-hop for suburban preteens. However, while it will likely change perceptions of the duo, this is an experiment that should not be repeated by white artists. The most powerful contributions to America’s highly volatile debate around race relations have always been and will continue to be from black artists. The danger is that the message of songs as era-defining as Billie Holliday’s Strange Fruit and Kendrick Lamar’s Alright will be diluted and swamped by the overpowering cacophony of contributions from white artists.

One thing that should always be remembered when opposing injustice is that oppressed minorities must, as far as is possible, be the agents of their own emancipation. While the Black Lives Matter movement needs as much support as possible, its most prominent voices must be black community leaders and not white celebrities. Therefore, the song and the reaction to it are emblematic of the difficulties facing liberal Americans. It is, of course, important that people of all races who are disgusted by acts of injustice show solidarity with the black community. However, white people, particularly those in the public eye have to be careful to do this responsibly. Otherwise, they risk abusing their considerable privilege to deny people of colour their rightful place at the forefront of the debate. To some extent, I am sympathetic towards this minefield.  It is not Macklemore’s fault that our media culture is not sufficiently mature to acknowledge the contribution of a white celebrity without making them, and not the victims of oppression, the focus of public attention. But Macklemore cannot be that naive. He must have been aware of the impact White Privilege II would have and consequently he must have known that his voice would go on to dominate the conversation.

Macklemore himself hauntingly asks “What’s the intention?” and while it would be fascinating to know the answer it is not, at this time, the right question to be asking. The more significant one going forward: what’s the solution?