Dear Girl Who Says “Hey” In That Hip-Hop Sample,

I don’t remember where I first heard you and your singular syllable. Maybe it was in an old Beastie Boys song on one of those tapes I had. Maybe it was a KRS One rap that I heard on the radio, or a Cut Chemist remix on a CD that was burned for me. In college, I found Nas and Common, and I’m sure they dropped you in one or two of their songs. I seem to remember you being in an old UB40 song (yes, I had that tape too), but the only place I can find you for sure now is in the Offspring song, “Original Prankster.” About thirty-eight seconds in, Noodles’ (I think his name is Noodles) voice breaks off from singing, the guitar hits a beat, and you get dropped in in the left channel– your sweet “Hey” singing in behind the music, filling in the empty spaces, making it whole, making it real. As far as I know, all you’ve ever said is “Hey,” but all those hip-hop artists must have sampled you from somewhere, because time and time again over the years, I’ve heard you say “Hey” in many, many songs. All kinds of beats and all kinds of rappers have included you, the one thread tying them all together, Girl That Says “Hey.” And now I’m sending you this letter to tell you how I feel. And, of course, to say “hey.”

Before I wrote this open letter, I figured I would try to reach you personally. I scoured the Internet for a credit of your voice– I figured if so many people had used your original recording, someone else would have paid attention, someone else would have realized that you needed to somehow be noticed, be known. Someone, somewhere would know you as the girl that says “hey”. But my search ran dry. Don’t get me wrong, I actually did find a girl that says “hey.” In the early 90s, Prodigy released “Firestarter.” You know that song– everybody does. There’s a girl on that song that says “Hey”– says it three times in a row, in fact, sped up by Prodigy to fit the dance remix, manipulated to match the beat, just like you were. This girl’s name is Anne Dudley, and she was a member of Art of Noise, an 80s electronica group that produced a single called “Close to the Edit,” which Prodigy remixed for “Firestarter.” Unfortunately, he remixed it without their permission, and Anne sued and won a settlement. She also later went on to produce the Oscar winning soundtrack to the Full Monty. She’s a girl who says “Hey,” and a pretty impressive one at that.

But, Girl Who Says “Hey” In That Hip-Hop Sample, I’m not entirely convinced that she’s you. I listened to “Close to the Edit,” and while her “Hey” is certainly vibrant and very 80s, it’s just not enthused with the same rebellion and scintillating offense that yours is. Your “Hey” is seductive and playful, just like the early days of hip hop. Your “Hey” is like an enticing eyebrow raise, a pretend-to-be-offended exclamation of shock at a terrific party. “Hey!” you say, in between bass beats, as if you aren’t sure that what’s going on is right, but can’t hide the fact that you might want to be a part of it.

And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interesting in finding out more about you. Anyone who can put that much meaning and message into a single exclamatory syllable seems like a pretty amazing person. You seem like you know what you want, and aren’t afraid to try for it. Your “Hey” is demanding, and yet consoling, a point of human contact in an otherwise drum and machine produced record. Some of the early hip hop you’re heard in, especially, is more a product of its time, a hard to reach playground of local meaning and sentimentality, and yet your “Hey” reaches through the years and cultures and pulls the listener, new or old, right on in. “Hey,” I imagine you saying, listen to this! And yet, having been in so many different types of work, and involved with so many different artists, you seem like a pretty adaptable person. You find your place and make it your own, another attractive quality. Also, though I’m hestitant to be so gauche with someone so graceful, you sound pretty hot.

So, Girl Who Says “Hey” In That Hip-Hop Sample, keep on doing what you’re doing. I’m sure that with the recent popularity of music mashups, you’ll be shouting your greeting for years to come, and maybe someday some intrepid sampler will actually give you credit for it. But I imagine you not caring much about that, Girl Who Says “Hey.” I imagine you as a slightly older but still sexy woman now, living in a small apartment on the Lower East Side. You exit through your plain front door, leaving the apartment to your loyal cats for the day, and make your way down to the street, stopping only to pick up the royalty checks from that old recording you did from the mailbox. You walk out onto the pavement, and the sun is shining as it can only in New York as Spring is coming on, and you smile as you pull your coat around you and walk the three blocks to the corner grocery. You need to pick up a few things, maybe a mango or two, and food for the cats. Once there, you step into the grocer’s familiar shop as the bell above the door rings. He (an old Italian man who prices items with an ancient pricing gun and runs the store with his two sons) looks up from shelving peanut butter and beams, waves.

“Good morning, Ms. Girl!” he says. “Nice to see you!” And you smile back, thinking that life is good, and say “Hey.”

Sincerely,

Mike Schramm