Hip Hop celebrated its 47th birthday this week, so it’s worth reflecting on the thoughts of those who, to quote a cultural giant, “never thought that Hip Hop would take it this far.”
We assume this Notorious B.I.G. line addresses naysayers from outside of the culture. It’s safe to say – as Neilsen has named Hip Hop the world’s most popular genre – those doubters have been dealt with. But what’s always been interesting is the status of Hip Hop according to those close to the culture.
In December 2006, Nas released his eight studio album, “Hip Hop is Dead.” The album punctuated a year of diverse projects, with everything from Lupe Fiasco’s “Food & Liquor” to Clipse’s “Hell Hath No Fury.” Rap songs were some of the biggest tracks of that year – Snap Yo Fingers (Lil Jon), Money Maker (Ludacris), It’s Going Down (Young Joc), and Shoulder Lean (Young Dro) are just a few.
Hip Hop was clearly alive and well. Even “Hip Hop is Dead” had success contradictory to its title. The project debuted at number one and was nominated for the Grammy for Best Rap Album.
So was Nas’ provocative title just another old head hating on the culture shift of the early 2000s, grieving the loss of the genre as he knew it? Probably. He said himself in 2016 to Mass Appeal that “Hip Hop is Dead” “missed the mark.” But still, some of Nas’ points help us discuss the nearly fifty year journey of Hip Hop.
On the title track of the album, Nas raps –
“Everybody sounds the same, commercialize the game
Reminiscin’ when it wasn’t all business
It forgot where it started
So we all gather here for the dearly departed”
It’s clear then that Nas wasn’t referencing the relevancy or profitability of Hip Hop as the symptoms of death, but rather the cause of it. The genre was growing, especially as the digital era emerged, but the “commercialization of the game” was – to Nas, at least – the detriment of the culture.
The diagnosis isn’t farfetched. There are countless examples of a speedy and superficial success lending to the demise of individuals, companies, and even empires.
“What I mean by Hip Hop is dead is we’re at a vulnerable state. If we don’t change, we gonna disappear like Rome,” Nas said in an MTV interview.
Rome – an empire, much like Hip Hop, which grew to global power through a cultural experiment of sorts. If both are to be considered great empires, it’s safe to say that they gained their international status by building upon ideas that pushed against the status quo.
But can Hip hop sustain its reign?
Not if the genre (the industry, the money, the mainstream integration) outpaces the culture and leaves its people behind. Or, as Nas said, not if we “forget where it started.”
The story is well known and celebrated now. On August 11, 1973, DJ Kool Herc hosted a party at 1520 Sedgwick Ave. This address is known throughout the culture as the birthplace of Hip Hop, blending all of the cultural elements – the emcee, the disk jockey, breakdancing, and graffiti – together in one place. The party was the mark of a new kind of community; one which existed to document the lives of Black and brown New York youth as they expressed themselves, their ideas, and their aspirations. Hip Hop emerged from a functional need; a survival tactic to uplift people while the Bronx was burning. And that basic function was needed in communities of color throughout the country, and eventually, marginalized groups across the globe.
But does Hip Hop still fulfill that functional need of supporting and sustaining the people? While the events of 2020 provide an obvious “yes,” in ‘06, Nas didn’t think so.
“Hip Hop is dead because we as artists no longer have the power. Could you imagine what 50 Cent could be doing? Nas, Jay, Eminem, if we were the Jimmy Iovines? Could you imagine the power we’d have? I think that’s where we’re headed,” he continued in the same interview.
That quote now almost sounds like premonition; a prophecy fulfilled by artists who’ve gone on to own businesses and leverage their artistic assets. Even up and coming artists are becoming more intentional in protecting themselves and the integrity of their art, which has led to more experimentation and independence in Hip Hop. In 2020, we’re tempted to believe that Hip Hop – if once culturally dead – stands a strong chance at revival.
Jay Z is our obvious example of resurrection – worth a billion, leading an influential label, involved in politics. Hov is the manifestation of Hip Hop’s wildest dreams, and he’s joined by other individuals from the culture strategizing to ensure it is championed by us. His endeavor with Tidal is the most clear cut demonstration of members of the culture looking to regain control over it, from the creation of the music to the distribution of it and the content derived from it.
The intentional involvement at all of these levels has been critical to Hip Hop’s continued growth. There is no company or politician in this world that can ignore “The Culture.” We’re finally beginning to see members of Hip Hop culture appointed as the gatekeepers.
Still, we have a long way to go in ensuring Hip Hop nourishes and sustains all its people. There are cultural viruses weakening its chances of survival. Take misogyny. Almost everywhere we look in the culture, women experience violence or violation. (Nas himself has faced accusations of abuse against his ex-wife Kelis.) These tumors won’t lay benign forever. But as a culture, we’ve never been so prepared to triage the injuries.
That’s why, for Hip Hop’s birthday, it's important we look back to past criticisms of the culture and the way we’ve addressed them – the way we’ve saved ourselves before. We’re only growing stronger, and we’ve got a lot more life to live.