It would be hard to imagine a less likely hip-hop mogul than Nik Cohn, a sickly, London-born, fifty-ish Jewish journalist and novelist best known for writing the (largely fictionalized) article that became the basis for Saturday Night Fever. Nevertheless, Cohn took up residence in New Orleans and set out to become a player in the city's thriving bounce scene, a quixotic quest documented in his alternately invigorating and frustrating new book Triksta.
Driven in part by a desire to confront and overcome his racial anxieties, Cohn explored the colorful fringes of New Orleans' hip-hop scene in search of the next superstar. In the most engaging passages, he loses himself in a ramshackle world that recalls Hustle & Flow, as affable dreamers try to create lasting art (or at least a slamming club hit) between soul-deadening day jobs and the drudgery of everyday life. Cohn's dreams eventually crystallize around Choppa, a charismatic teenage rapper with a remarkable ability to convince prominent people of his star quality. Unfortunately, that might be Choppa's only gift, as Cohn fails to elevate him to national stardom. (But then again, so did Choppa's next would-be star-maker, Master P, apart from the hit single "Choppa Style.")
Cohn's relationship with Choppa, which begins with enormous promise and ends in bitterness and disappointment, proves a template for his unsteady artistic bond with a series of struggling up-and-comers. Cohn depicts himself as an incongruous dilettante way out of his league, but his self-criticism and self-examination never go far enough. He never professes to be anything other than a semi-clueless outsider, yet he seems vexed that a flaky teen like Choppa would rather pick up quick cash cranking out another local hit than fulfill the fuzzy, half-formed musical vision of a weird old white dude. Cohn loves hip-hop, but he's frustratingly clueless about why hip-hop refuses to love him back.