Memo to the folks anointing Lil Wayne the greatest rapper alive: Get off his tip. While you’re at it, stop swinging on Jay-Z’s jock; 50 Cent’s and T.I.’s, too. If you’re searching for the greatest living emcee, Detroit’s a decent place to start.
Five years after 2002’s 8 million-selling The Eminem Show, Marshall Mathers remains the most formidable major-label emcee. He’s a versatile rapper: satire (“My Name Is”); social analysis (“Mosh”); introspection (“Cleanin’ out My Closet”); battle raps (vs. Ja Rule, Benzino, Canibus). And he appeals to hip-hop’s most avid consumers—white kids.
And yet Em’s pedigree was only good enough for the No. 2 spot on hip-hop writer Jamie Radford’s 10 greatest white rappers list, ahead of notables like Third Bass (No. 8) and the Beastie Boys (No. 7), but sandwiched between pop-cultural unknowns like top-ranked El-P (a Rawkus Records pioneer) and third-ranked underground icon Aesop.
Those missing the cut interested me more than the rankings.
Inimitable names like Sage Francis, Esoteric, RA the Rugged Man, Non Phixion, Mad Child, Necro and other emcees whose under-the-radar careers underscored something you might not have gleaned if you watched the marginally talented contestants on Ego Trip’s The White Rapper Show: many white emcees are putting it down.
They’ve become ardent hip-hop emissaries, pushing boundaries and dominating certain niches.
If it’s social criticism you want, few do it better than Sage Francis. A cross between Bob Woodward and Bill Maher, he’s politically astute enough to pen “Makeshift Patriot,” quite possibly the best 9/11 rap ever penned, but not above having fun. He competed in PETA’s sexiest vegetarian contest last year.
A Matisyahu album can be overly heavy on the proselytizing, but that’s to be expected, given his grounding in Judaism. The joy is in discovering how he blends rap, beatboxing and reggae into a mercurial style. The soundscapes provide a pleasing backdrop for him to address matters of faith, something more emcees should try.
At its core, hip-hop is a confrontational sport, a cage match of wits. There’s no fiercer battle rhymer than Iron Solomon who, to paraphrase Big Daddy Kane, shits on rappers like he ain’t never been potty-trained. Mixing off-the-dome lyrics and pre-written stuff, he’s torched a legion of emcees including Jin, once acknowledged as the best battler in the biz. “Even Jin will tell ya/He’s estrogen, pussy, like female genitalia.” Solomon’s main competitors, Illmaculate and The Saurus, are white.
Solomon beat The Saurus in 2006’s most anticipated battle. Illmaculate and The Saurus won the two-on-two competition in the inaugural World Rap Championships here in October.
With Em on hiatus—so no, he’s not the best rapper alive—white rappers signed to major labels have stepped in and stepped up. Paul Wall’s helping power Houston’s surge, Lil Wyte is repping for Memphis and Bubba Sparxxx continues signifying for Georgia.
Perhaps it’s time for everyone to be more lenient with white rappers. To look at them not as cultural insurgents bent on co-opting a foreign genre (Vanilla Ice, Snow) but as valued contributors with something worthwhile to say.