Jay has spent much time mining his backstory as a hustler and ascendance to rap’s first billionaire. He’s brilliant at creating imagery, metaphors, analogy owns a panoply of styles is insightful, wise. He’s a paradigmatic storyteller and wordsmith. Nor do I feature arguing for something obscure as a critique of the mainstream. And disclosures: I’m critical of a fair amount of the new rap-the mumbling, the seeming de-emphasis on technical skills, the rampant redundancy in content and production, the quotidian-ass outlook of rap as little more than an avenue to riches.
The rubric of my list: Skills, Content, Bona fides, and Impact. My simple definition of greatness: excellence repeated. The “top five dead or alive.” And that aggressive spirit makes it ripe for ranking. Rap has remained the most competitive music genre, one whose artists tout themselves as the biggest, best, greatest. Many of its pioneers were former members of crews or gangs and used battling as an alternative to actual violence as well as a way to foster esteem. That was me over a few days in April as I prepared my list of the five all-time greatest rappers. You want to lose the lion’s share of a few nights’ sleep, pay serious consideration to ranking one yourself. You want to hear a Harlem barbershop hella vociferous with avowed expertise, mention some list compiled by a music mag. If you want the intelligentsia up in arms about aesthetics and the merits of conscious rap, broach the subject over dinner.
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