Back in the late aughts, Miami threatened to take over hip-hop. They had an unlikely leader, a New Orleans-born transplant – of Palestinian origin – named DJ Khaled, a radio DJ who seemed to do little more than shout as loud as he could. But Khaled united a disparate group of southern Florida artists, including Rick Ross, Ace Hood, Plies, and Trick Daddy, not to mention Tallahassee singer T-Pain, Fat Joe (who bought a house in the Miami area) and Lil Wayne, who’d arrived from New Orleans. Bombastic radio hits like We Takin’ Over and I’m So Hood fuelled many emerging careers and coalesced a flashy movement that went well beyond Florida or even the south. The biggest names from all over the country – from Kanye to Kendrick – wanted in.
Khaled is still doing his thing. His just-released eighth album, with the all-time-great title I Changed a Lot, debuted at No 12. Meanwhile, Miami’s biggest star, Rick Ross, is scheduled to put out his latest record Black Market in December. Led off by Sorry, it’s pretty much guaranteed to be a hit, as his albums always are. But yet somewhere along the way Miami fell off its perch as one of the most influential rap cities. Though it’s loaded with young talent, these rappers haven’t found the national spotlight, and in the meantime many of the city’s older standbys have fallen out of the limelight.
First things first: Miami is the birthplace of southern rap. Naughty funk songsmith Blowfly was an important hip-hop precursor, and by the 80s Luke Campbell and other DJs were throwing wild parties for teenagers, chartering the booty bass sound, and bringing in talent from all over the country. That’s how 2 Live Crew was formed, in fact – Luke enlisted the Riverside, California, group to perform locally. They decided to stay, and Campbell became the hype man for their increasingly lascivious rhymes and chants. Miami became known as the bass capital through the efforts of artists like DJ Magic Mike, DJ Laz, Half Pint, Anquette and the Luke-fostered group Poison Clan. (A casual listener, however, might know the sound best from the 1993 hits Whoomp! There It Is and Whoot, There It Is, though neither of the acts behind those songs are from Miami.)
From Vanilla Ice to Pitbull to Flo Rida, Miami pop rappers have never had trouble selling records, though it’s hard to find many hip-hop fans who take any of those three seriously these days. (Although, c’mon, GDFR guys.) But in the 90s, Miami began to be overshadowed by Atlanta, which fit more into the national rap zeitgeist of the time, from the artists mentored by Jermaine Dupri (Kriss Kross, Da Brat) to the earthy sounds of the Dungeon Family (OutKast, Goodie Mob). Back in Miami, 1997 saw the debut of Miami’s Trick Daddy Dollars, AKA Trick Daddy, a raw, kinetic rapper with crossover appeal. He represented, in many ways, the grimy underbelly of a city known for decadence and drug-fuelled wealth.
Trick Daddy spurred the rise of local label Slip-n-Slide, which also signed rapper Trina, considered one of hip-hop’s most successful and influential female MCs. Rick Ross later signed to the imprint as well, toiling under the radar for many years before breaking through on 2006’s Port of Miami. His signature song Hustlin’ was a glossy sketch of a drug kingpin, an image soon disrupted after Ross was revealed to be a former correctional officer. But he overcame that public relations disaster and many others – an extremely personal beef with 50 Cent, “date rape” lyrics and, most recently, an arrest for kidnapping and other charges – to become one of hip-hop’s most consistent, bankable performers. His label, Maybach Music Group, has helped invigorate the careers of Wale and Meek Mill, though the pair are recently feuding.
But many of Ross and DJ Khaled’s other collaborators, including Plies, Fat Joe and T-Pain, haven’t continued their runs. Lil Wayne is considered to be on the decline as well and is dealing with lawsuits and police raids. That said, there are plenty of other talents who have come up in their stead. The unpredictable, oft-poignant Gunplay is one of the most exciting rappers to have emerged in recent years, though his debut studio album Living Legend this year didn’t get much of a reaction from critics. Controversial rapper Stiches went viral last year, but a host of lesser-known MCs such as SpaceGhostPurrp, Rob Bank$, Yung Simmie and Denzel Curry are respected by critics but haven’t been able to break out to a large audience.
Why is that? Torii MacAdams argues that one reason is the city’s big stars are “completely disconnected from the younger generation of rappers, who suffer for a lack of co-signs”. This is compelling reasoning. DJ Khaled’s I Changed a Lot, for example, doesn’t feature any of the above-mentioned under-the-radar rappers, opting instead almost entirely for well-established talents, most from outside Florida. Of course, it’s not DJ Khaled’s responsibility to put the entire city on his back. But if Miami is going to get back on hip-hop’s national map, it’s probably going to have to be a team effort.
