On Monday, as the usual August doldrums descended upon an already moribund summer for hip-hop and pop music and reasonable Twitter discourse alike, the following list of rappers appeared on the internet.
There is a 99.99999% chance that Joe Budden wrote this list pic.twitter.com/GS0WJ8hanU
— IGZ (@igzrap) August 5, 2019
Here, then, apparently, courtesy of The Brew Podcast, were the 50 greatest rappers of all time; Joe Budden at no. 3 is, indeed, quite the upset, though doubtless he appreciates both the compliment and the implied troll. Fabolous is likewise an unexpected presence at no. 6, though he may deserve top-10 consideration for the sublime “Throw It in the Bag” remix alone, though if that’s the rationale then Drake should be way higher than no. 23, and—see? Already we’re distracted, which is to say taking this way too seriously, which is to say unnecessarily vexed, which is to say trolled.
It’s boring out there. Everyone’s bored. The “Old Town Road” chart stranglehold has distorted our perception of one of the dullest musical summers in recent memory, where even this website’s own recent rundown of 2019 Rap Song of Summer candidates is weighed down with caveats and faint praise and deep existential sighs. Such is the environment where a random list of 50 random rappers could go viral, could inspire myriad other Rap Twitter combatants to proffer their own lists (here’s Lil Durk’s friends of Lil Durk–heavy contribution), could lead to much deep thought and shallow derision.
For example. Look at that list up there again. Look at it. It’s like the full New York Mets roster eating Ray’s Pizza slices during a Lion King matinee on Broadway. That list has been in line outside the Supreme in SoHo for the past six hours. That list’s ringtone is a Funk Flex bomb. That list has a decades-old open bar tab at the Tunnel for $95,000. That list is on hold with Mike Francesa as you read this. That list’s parents conceived it at Summer Jam, onstage. (Possibly while DJ Khaled was doing “All I Do Is Win” at Summer Jam 2010. Incredible. Though I’m relieved DJ Khaled isn’t on the list.) That list is writing an essay about why it’s leaving New York. That list betrays severe NYC bias, is what I’m saying to you. There is basically no Bay Area presence at all, unless you count the years Tupac roadied for the Digital Underground. Too Short and E-40 would like a word, for starters. (Those words, respectively, are biiiitch and flamboastin.)
Sorry. Got distracted/vexed/trolled again. My editor has a question.
True or false: When the current generation of rap fans comes of age, there will be no more ranked lists of MCs, or even songs and albums. No “Best Rapper Alive” discussions. Kids don’t even think on those terms anymore
— Donnie Kwak (@KwakaFlocka) August 6, 2019
It is notable, setting geography aside, that both on the inciting viral list and all the inflammatory discourse (and answer lists) it inspired, the rappers named who are arguably currently in their prime include Kendrick Lamar, Drake, Pusha T (arguably, Clipse fans), J. Cole, and … yeah. Complex maintains a monster list declaring The Best Rapper Alive, Every Year Since 1979. And so: Who is the Best Rapper Alive in 2019? Meaning, who is doing the biggest and best work in rap this year, right now? Does Lil Nas X win by default? Is Cole (for “Middle Child,” “The London,” and late 2018’s “A Lot”) a legit contender? Did you know that Post Malone still has three songs in the top 20 of the Hot 100? And most alarmingly, what percentage of young, chart-raiding rappers—from Lil Tecca to Blueface to NF (!!!!) to the various Babies—give a shit about lists and rankings and the Best Rapper Alive conversation at all?
(Also, does anybody know what Wale thinks about all this?)
Hey BTS army.. it’s your ol pal Wale again quick favor .. since you guys control the internet .. can y’all tell these ppl to stop lying and saying I’m not one of the greatest of all time . Thanks again guys wherever you are Love
— Wale (@Wale) August 6, 2019
(Thank you. I am definitely glad I asked.)
It’s not that nobody cares about rap dominance for dominance’s sake: On the 2019 XXL Freshman list (and the cyphers that accompanied it), Megan Thee Stallion, Tierra Whack, and Rico Nasty flaunted an intensity, and a dexterity, that marked them as refreshing throwbacks and outliers, and not just for the obvious reason. (That Nicki Minaj and Lauryn Hill, for starters, can’t crack many a top 50 only underscores how comically macho the listmaking process can be.)
But the highest-profile kids these days, by and large, seem profoundly uninterested in cracking lists full of adults, in climbing a Best Rapper Alive mountaintop not much in dispute since Lil Wayne and Jay-Z fought over it 11 years ago, in indulging this impulse at all. Conventional release schedules no longer matter. “Bars” no longer matter. Culture-worshipping purity of intent no longer matters: Plenty of superstar rookies, from Lil Nas X on down, settled on hip-hop as the means to an end, the end being virality. Do lists, either current or historical, still matter if virtually nothing else does?
It is impossible, of course, to talk about this for even 10 seconds without sounding approximately 200 years old. (Related: The only cool rapper list in recorded history was Jay-Z’s 2017 tweetstorm that ended with “Mac Miller nice too though.”) But it’s disquieting that the initial top-50 list, for all the Joe Budden jokes it inspired, comes across less like an earnest vehicle for debate and more like, well, a silly meme, the accompanying SpongeBob image and wAcKy tExT all but implied. Ebro Darden, the Hot 97 DJ and frequent Rap Twitter combatant, offered his own, more thoughtful and reasonable list, though it doesn’t exactly solve the NYC-bias issue. But what I’m most drawn to, as he notes, is that it’s handwritten, and thus antiquated by design, as though he wrote it by candlelight whilst listening to the Purple Tape on one of those old-timey phonographs.
If ya list ain’t handwritten it don’t count... #TheRealTop50
— El Viejo Ebro (@oldmanebro) August 6, 2019
(*) could be ranked higher pic.twitter.com/bEmQNVDOgR
Shout-out to Kanye West, finally entering this conversation, albeit at no. 50. This is ridiculous. This is, increasingly, an outdated way of looking at rap, or pop, or cultural consumption as a whole. This is arguably no. 1 on the list of most interesting conversations rap is having about itself in 2019, or maybe that’s “most irrelevant.” That the Best Rapper Alive and Best Rapper Ever conversations have partially devolved into joke fodder is for the best, perhaps, even if it leaves culture-website editors in 2039 scrambling to organize their Best Albums/Songs/Rappers of 2019 coverage. Nobody thinks that way anymore, or at least, nobody who wasn’t alive when The Black Album came out does. This whole fracas, after all, is only no. 3 on the most amusing Twitter memes to emerge this week, after the whole lunch-table thing and, triumphantly, the matter of the 30 to 50 feral hogs. Thank goodness nobody’s tried to rank the feral hogs, geez, that would be absu—
Feral Hog Power Ranking:
— ☕netw3rk (@netw3rk) August 5, 2019
1-Hog 17
2-Hog 5
3-Hog 2
4-Hog 29
5-Hog 11
6-Hog 1
7-Hog 3
8-Hog 25
9-Hog 20
10-Hog 23
11-Hog 4
12-Hog 18
13-Hog 7
14-Hog 31
15-Hog 21
16-Hog 9
17-Hog 13
18-Hog 22
19-Hog 33
20-Hog 19
21-Hog 6
22-Hog 24
23-Hog 35
24-Hog 36
25-Hog 16
26-Hog 12
27-Hog 38
Yep, these are my colleagues.