In 1992, I was 8 years old and listening to mostly The Mary Poppins Sound Track and my parents' Todd Rundgren tapes. But the moment I heard Pump Up The Jam on a TV commercial for the Ultimate Jack Jams Mix CD orwhatever, I knew it was the most retarded song of all time. I was incredulous, actually, as to how such an idiotic song could have slipped through the cracks. "Are those really the words? Over and over?" I asked my mom.
I entertained my parents' house guests by jumping up and down, to and fro, wildly pumping my arms, singing, "Puhhhhhmp up the jeyyyyymmmm up the jeyyyyymmmn, puhhhmp it up."
"Pump Up The Jam" made its way into my tender, sarcastic third grade wordage. When my mother asked me to clean my room, I'd reply with a snooty, "Why don't you go Pump Up The Jam?" When I got a good grade passed back to me in school, I'd loudly announce, "Well Pump Up The Jam!" I used it to express everything, because to me, it meant nothing.
Then I was listening to one of Bev's mix CDs when I heard that familiar Pump Up The Jam beat. She had chosen it as song number three on her September 2009 Hip Hop Dance Mix. But after months of dancing and listening to meaningless, raunchy rap lyrics, I realized Pump Up The Jam, relatively speaking, was no that ridiculous. In fact, I realized I loved Pump Up The Jam. It made me happy. I couldn't sit still. And as the song continued, While your feet are stompin' and the jam is pumpin' look at where the crowd is jumpin' pump it up a little more, it dawned on me: hip hop has officially changed my life, and I am a much happier person than I was without it.
