When Jarad Anthony Higgins, better known as the rapper Juice WRLD, died last weekend, he had just turned 21.
Every thoughtful piece I read about his life and work expressed despair at the wasted potential of an entire generation of rappers, particularly Soundcloud rappers, who are overdosing or being incarcerated at a rate that suggests far more needs to be done by those profiting from their music.
In his biggest hit, Lucid Dreams, he laid out his existential despair: “I take prescriptions to make me feel a-okay,” he sang. “You were my everything / thoughts of a wedding ring / now I’m just better off dead.” When writing his obituaries, many have noted that he seemed to have been writing his own.
The opioid crisis, prescription drugs, depression and mental healthcare are all factors, but the music industry is hardly known for taking its pastoral responsibilities seriously. When Kurt Cobain, much loved by Soundcloud rappers, died at the age of 27, his mother Wendy was reported to have said, “He’s gone and joined that stupid club. I told him not to join that stupid club.”
On Legends, released at the start of the month, Juice WRLD sang, “What’s the 27 club? We ain’t making it past 21.”
• Rebecca Nicholson is an Observer columnist
