Nicki Minaj op-ed

Author's Note: This op-ed was originally written in response to Nicki Minaj's decision to collaborate with Tekashi 6ix9ine and evolved from there into a larger critique of what I, like countless others, would like to see in the next era of her artistry. The original publication was required to pull the piece for internal reasons. In hindsight, I would have liked to have mentioned that she brought DeJ Loaf and Tinashe on tour with her in 2015 as well as has "hinted" at bringing several women mentioned in this piece on her 2018 tour with her, a detail that in my research I could not confirm to be true at this moment in time. Both of those points are valid and should be included in the narrative. However, I also feel that there overall is a larger desire to see that same energy continued now that a new era of women-made rap is upon us. Like many fans who respect and honor Nicki's legacy, I'm curious to see where she fits into the conversation and cultural landscape today, and how her next album speaks to her legacy and evolution (or lack thereof) alike. Overall, I appreciate the opportunity to explore this topic openly and continue a conversation that so many are adamantly and visibly passionate about. Thank you for reading.

---

How Nicki Minaj’s disregard of the women she inspires may ultimately cost her
What’s a queen without her kingdom?

Nicki Minaj has spent her entire career demanding respect and settling for nothing less. Now entering her second decade of consistently commanding the spotlight, topping the Billboard charts and becoming one of the world’s best-selling artists across genres (let alone in rap), it’s safe to say she’s more than paid her dues and rightfully earned her throne. However, with all eyes on her leading up to her fourth studio album, Queen, due out August 10, Minaj still has something to prove. It’s not necessarily about questioning her past accomplishments but more so about what this next chapter of her career will say about her legacy, especially in the eyes of her female fans and counterparts.

While the majority of her focus has been determinedly and justifiably pointed at earning her spot in a male rapper’s world—occasionally offering the valid observation that regardless of the industry, women have to work twice as hard for half the recognition—a lot has shifted culturally in the four years since the release of her 2014 magnum opus, The Pinkprint.

Putting aside the feminist resurgence the world at large is experiencing as I type this, a new era has also arrived for rap. For one, as exemplified by Remy Ma and Cardi B being recipients of the 2017 and 2018 BET Award for Best Female Hip-Hop Artist respectively, Nicki isn’t competing with herself anymore. As a new, much-embraced wave of women creators continues to flourish—dozens of which credit the Queens MC for inspiring their careers in the first place—one can’t help but wonder where Nicki now fits after spending a decade fighting for her lane and, in turn, whether she likes it or not, paving a path for the next generation of women creators.

Competition will always be woven into the very fabric of rap music regardless of gender. With that in mind and considering the fact that the hip-hop historically doesn’t bode well when it gets wind of two women succeeding at once, it’s as easy to criticize Minaj’s lack of hip-hop sisterhood as it is to understand it from the root.

When Nicki collaborated with Migos and Cardi B on “Motorsport,” she experienced a full circle moment, one sewn together by the contrasting feelings of longing for respect and not receiving it in return; a historic cycle reminiscent of what she had gone through with Lil’ Kim at the beginning of her career (and alternatively, what Kim went through previously with Foxy Brown). Cardi B’s apparent disregard of Nicki as her OG hit her hard, just as Nicki’s homages to Kim eventually crossed a line and ignited a lasting beef.

With lessons learned the hard way that the relationships between other women in hip-hop have been inherently confusing to navigate, thanks largely in part to how the culture’s reflex is to pit women against each other, Nicki has fallen short on a couple recent occasions, leaving some of hip-hop’s widespread audience feeling a bit uncertain or even indifferent about her forthcoming project. We all know the project will do numbers (how can it not) but what will it add to her legacy?

First, her beef with Remy Ma ignited in hip-hop fans that track-for-track excitement that so many had been nostalgic for. However, instead of fighting to protect her crown, she instead chose to polish it by reminding Remy that she has more hits and has secured more bags at the end of the day. And while numbers are an undeniably important part of the conversation, fans wanted and expected more from Nicki; perhaps because they had grown accustomed to her coming out on top regardless of circumstance. While her back and forth with Remy arguably fell short and fizzled out, Nicki would later put that same money she bragged about to good use, admirably paying off dozens of student loan payments after asking for her Barbz fanbase to tweet her receipts and winning back the adoration of some of her critics.

However, her philanthropy alone isn’t enough to protect her from those same critics coming back in swarms, especially considering how Nicki has had a couple of misses with the press lately, a key factor in building hype around her new music (outside of her own ginormous social followings, of course). From her offensive commentary during a recent interview with Elle (which was framed with a “I don’t really know how to say that without being offensive”) during which she blasts “modern day prostitutes” and wonders if she’s “contributed to that in some way;” to lashing out at music journalist Wanna Thompson for sharing her personal music opinions on Twitter; to receiving backlash from Queer Eye’s Jonathan Van Ness for entertaining a cover story with Harper’s Bazaar Russia and alienating her LGBTQ+ fans by doing so, it’s as if Nicki should know better by now. She either doesn’t care about potential repercussions with the media or is so lost in her own sauce a la Kanye West her missteps don’t ever get back to her. Regardless of what the “haters” may be saying, Nicki continues to blissfully tweet about her upcoming album, reporting live from her own world and making it clear it’s going to take more than some social media backlash to steal her renowned razor-sharp focus. After all, she has the Barbz equipped and ready to fight for her in her mentions and the mentions of those brave (or naive) enough to strike back. 

So now, after releasing two successful singles (“Chun-Li” and “Barbie Tingz”) and the ball back in her court, what’s her next move? Announcing a massive tour with Future (okay, sure) and most recently, dropping a song with the ever-polarizing Tekashi 6ix9ine (uh, sis?!).

Did we need this “Fefe” joint? Did anyone (above the age of 15) ask for that? Is anyone else grossed out by a 35-year-old who denounces promiscuity in practice while being promiscuous in image and a 22-year-old with a criminal past of pedophilia trading raunchiness bar-for-bar and promoting such a track with cutesy Claymations of themselves licking the same ice cream cone? Aesthetically speaking, this might just be the biggest L of 2018 so far. And that goes without even bringing her brother's criminal convictions into the conversation. All that aside, the collaboration with Tekashi 6ix9ine stings the most because it further amplifies how Nicki is not only capable of working with a plethora of up-and-coming artists and is open to the idea but actively chooses not to indulge any of the dozens of black women who openly credit her for inspiring their own music careers. Many critics of this stance point out that other women can't afford a Nicki feature, and that 6ix9ine can, but does that excuse her refusal to read the proverbial rap room that this might be a decision she'll have to defend? With the Cardi B feature, Nicki laughed off the theory that she didn't know who she was doing a song with, which further illustrates how her collaboration with 6ix9ine was more than a check clearing; it was calculated. She's going to have to defend this decision at some point.

As of now, all signs point to the fact that the decision to name her album Queen was a self-serving one that further expands her 'me against the world attitude,' when the word could also serve to explore its definition as a term of endearment, empowerment and the relationships women have with themselves and with other women. Why should someone like Cardi B give Nicki “genuine love” if it's easier to avoid the hassle that ensued following their haphazard collaboration? I’m not saying the world won’t spin if they never get together on a track again, but damn, Nicki didn’t even hesitate at the opportunity to get in the studio with a rainbow-haired troll who pled guilty to the use of a child in a sexual performance, let alone entertain calling one of rap’s next female stars, such as Asian Doll, Kash Doll, Rico Nasty, Kamaiyah, Saweetie, Bhad Bhabie (who arguably would fill the same troll quota as 6ix9ine for those who refuse to accept Danielle Bregoli as a legitimate rapper), Kodie Shane, Maliibu Miitch and Tierra Whack, to name a few.

Although she herself has said, during an emotional conversation with Zane Lowe, she “can only imagine how many girls wished they could’ve been on a song with Nicki Minaj,” it appears as though such a possibility still only lives within. Her ego, or perhaps her conditioning, will never allow such an idea to come to surface, especially considering the women she shouted out in that same interview deserve more than a namedrop. While Nicki has no problem collaborating with Ariana Grande, who is a confirmed featured artist on Queen (“Bed”), her hesitancy to fully embrace younger female rappers is both disappointing and predictable; a blow that is only strengthened in the existence of her track with someone like a Tekashi 6ix9ine.

At what point does Nicki Minaj’s blatant disregard for dishing out the same respect she herself spent years working for, as well as her apparent inability to take criticism, come back to bite her? At what point does the Barbz fanbase have second thoughts about their unconditional fandom? Or will grow up and get tired of defending her shiny, plastic narrative? Her habitual choice to not work with or lift up other women, seems like a bad call, especially at a time where such a choice could lift her legacy even higher. Fans want to see evolution and growth at this stage in the game. Mentoring others and passing the baton would show she’s in control of her influence and invested in a culture she helped create, much like how her legendary contemporaries, such as JAY-Z, Nas, Drake, Lil Wayne, T.I., Diddy, Kendrick Lamar and J. Cole, among others, have had not only the business acumen but the genuine desire to give back to a culture that made them tastemakers and millionaires in the first place, such as with endeavors like TIDAL, Mass Appeal, OVO Sound, Hustle Gang, REVOLT TV, TDE and Dreamville. While she has had smart collaborations in the past, such as her M.A.C lipstick, her perfume or her wine spritzer company Myx Beverage, these showcase the strength of her personal brand, not her interest in providing resources for others to utilize and grow with. There's an untapped market as a female entrepreneur in hip-hop and Nicki could truly do some amazing things if she chose to tap in.

From her interviews to her four-year hiatus, it’s evident Nicki is in a state of reinvention, with hopes to “get deep” with fans by openly discussing things like heartbreak, betrayal, abandonment, relationship rumors, spirituality, and workaholism fueled by perfectionism, among other personal topics. The best reinvention, if you ask me, just might be beginning to embrace other women in music and seeing what you can build together, instead of ignoring the battle cries when you too were once in the trenches. We all can imagine it’s not easy being Nicki Minaj, but she can certainly make it a little easier for herself. 

#repost CASH Music: Swimming Up Stream

SWIMMING UP STREAM

Is it all just a numbers game?

It is human nature to want to see exactly what success is, so it may then be emulated, achieved and later repeated. Considering that both the definition of success and the journey to get there is different for each individual and goal alike, figuring out what quantifiable success looks like and feels like is all part of a beautiful and frustrating process. Whether the intention behind accomplishing an aim or purpose lies with establishing financial or creative freedom, the attainment of popularity or profit, or the opportunity to aim even higher in the next go-around, success is one of the most motivational driving forces behind action. The quintessential desire to succeed in the music industry is no different. However, some aspects, such as accessibility and technology, have changed, calling on consumers and creators alike to reexamine and redefine what a successful career in music looks like now that the paramount age of streaming has arrived.

With 2018 on par to continue elevating the tools and platforms streaming services provide and nourish at rapid speeds, one visible pattern has emerged to signify success for new artists specifically. For many artists looking to secure their place in an unprecedentedly oversaturated market, the ticket to success is a viral single. Throughout the past several years, countless artists have changed their lives and progressed their careers by releasing a one-off or loose single, later experiencing a viral response and turning that widespread recognition into a lucrative opportunity that translates to solidifying a legitimate reputation in one of the most competitive industries in modern history. But is digital success the end all be all? Is it more than just beating the odds, either in the form of winning over an algorithm or charming a curator? Is it all just a numbers game, like it arguably has been since the RIAA was established in 1952? How has streaming impacted how artists define success?

“True success is doing what you’re doing in the way that you want to do it and getting to be who you really want to be,” independent recording artist GainesFM says. “I want to do my music the way I want to do it and having that opportunity, for me, that's what success is.”

GainesFM, an emerging rapper from Minneapolis, first found success through organizing shows and live performances in his hometown, such as opening for Wiz Khalifa, Playboi Carti, and more, as well as selling out local venues. He has begun translating that momentum online, testing the waters with streaming and garnering tens of thousands of plays on SoundCloud in the past year alone along the way. As his efforts both in the studio, the field and the internet continue, Gaines acknowledges that for him personally, success is loyally married to his integrity as an artist.

“Obviously, you want to be as financially as well off as possible, but that should never be the only driving factor,” he continues. “It's always amazing when you can be recognized for your achievements but when you make music for yourself, regardless of outcome, it's a success already. Sometimes you can lose even when you win, especially if you have to sacrifice that same authenticity that got you this far. I think growth is success in and of itself.”

Like many other independent artists, GainesFM is taking plenty of notes from industry vets and finding ways to apply these lessons to his own career, all while tightly holding onto his identity and own respective sound and approach. However, the notion of refusing to compromise authenticity as a creator in today’s economy is almost just as romanticized as the powerful phenomenon that surrounds the mystique behind one track leading to tangible and drastic change. Fortunately, accessibility to streaming allows artists the ability to maintain both integrity and build a following, all while the barometers of success are changing as promptly as the blueprints themselves are being rewritten.

Industry mainstays Drake, Beyoncé, Rihanna, Future, Kendrick Lamar, Taylor Swift, and Ed Sheeran, among others, have each found monumental success in music prior to the dawn of the age of streaming, and each continue to do incomprehensibly large numbers today. Meanwhile, on the other side of the coin, artists such as Lil Uzi Vert, Lil Pump, Camila Cabello, 6LACK, Liam Payne, Lil Pump, the late Lil Peep and Trippie Redd simply wouldn’t be where they are today without streaming becoming a catalyst for their careers.

The examples are countless. Justin Bieber was discovered on YouTube. The Chainsmokers had one well-received song, “#Selfie,” that led to their second, “Closer,” a couple years later. The song has since gone on to be streamed over a billion times on Spotify alone, as well as helped catapult singer Halsey into the mainstream purview after she herself had spent years building a following online. SoundCloud rap has long become a genre and a movement in and of itself, connecting artists across the world and helping artists garner millions of plays before they even land on a nationally-read blog for the first time. Chance the Rapper, Desiigner, DJ Snake, Lil Yachty, Fetty Wap, Calvin Harris, The Weeknd, Big Sean, Migos—the list goes on and on.

From the industry’s power players to those who found success initially through one viral single, these success stories have become romanticized by many, and for good reason. Every member of the 2017 XXL Freshman list, for another example, first saw quantifiable success through streaming, which is why, many of those artists represent a major shift that, in a lot of ways, is one that the music industry is both playing catch up on and recovering from. These artists, in one way or another, are the faces of success in the streaming era and not only that, but they make it look easy. After all, it all begins with a roll of the dice by way of uploading a track to YouTube, Spotify, Apple Music, SoundCloud, Tidal, Audiomack, Bandcamp, and even Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter.

As easy as it may appear on paper, that all it takes is turning one song into a lifeblood, what’s harder to swallow is that payouts per stream that average $00.004-$00.007 or more depending on the platform.

“At this point I don’t know if it’s a misconception, but how little money you make from streams is pretty sick,” Dawson, an independent rapper from Frederick, Maryland, reflects. “When millions of streams equal a few thousand dollars, nobody can make a living off of streaming alone. Shout out to Nipsey Hussle for that post a few months back with the breakdown on how streaming companies pay artists. I knew it was bad, but not THAT bad. I haven’t put those kinds of numbers up. I honestly don’t look at music sales, or streams as a valid income. Do shows. Sell clothes. Press vinyl. Do cool shit that people want to spend money on.”

Hussle’s now-deleted tweet showed transparency about what his streaming numbers translated to payout wise, expressing how his preference lies with TIDAL for being the most supportive of its artists. The Los Angeles area rapper, who recently made his major label debut through a joint partnership with Atlantic Records, has been rewriting the rules when it comes to making a living without compromising one’s self throughout the past decade, such as through pressing 1,000 limited edition physical copies of his music and selling them for $100 a piece.

While Dawson’s suggestion to focus on more traditional ways to monetize one’s art is enduringly wise, there is still the tenacious allure of making a livable income work via streaming.

Kota the Friend, a soulful hip-hop artist based out of Brooklyn, is seeing his success on streaming translate as his main source of income.

“Streaming helps me provide for my one year old son,” he says. “At this point in my career online sales and streams are my main source of income. The better the music sounds the more people will listen. So if anything it pushes me to make the best music possible and more of it.”

Kota, who cites his favorite streaming success story as Drake for receiving over four million plays on one single in 24 hours and currently boasts around 81,000 monthly listeners on Spotify, evaluates success by how many sets of ears his music is reaching.

“I feel like [evaluating success] is muddy now,” he continues. “Getting on a good Spotify playlist is a big deal but getting good blog placements is good in a different way. For me, the more people that are listening to your music, the more successful you are. All I care about is the music getting into the hands of the people. When that can happen naturally, it's a beautiful thing. But obviously business and personal relationships play a part as well.”

As exemplified through artists who are both independent and signed to a label, there are plenty of artists and managers who are finding success in these spaces by approaching streaming data as a basis for pitching a larger endorsement or partnership.

Both approaches, however, also speak to the bigger picture that no two paths or views of success are identical, even if the playing field may theoretically be the same.

“Having managed and worked with countless UK artists and labels, I think it's become a necessity to collate streaming data in a smart way and even present them to labels or future investment prospects,” says Junaid Kahn, a London-based talent manager and publicist for a plethora of acts. “Most UK labels won't even consider you seriously for a signing without a specific six-figure streaming figure in your catalogue belt. Everything about music slowly but surely is becoming a business and always has been, for those who make money, that is. [Laughs]”

Kahn, who studies the trends found in streaming specifically to best inform his decisions as an artist manager and publicist, also sees the benefit of translating streaming data into success in other mediums and methods.

“When effectively utilizing streaming data, there is a wealth of opportunities, in essence, that can come when people believe your audience is large and engaging with you,” Kahn explains. “It also provides insight into understanding where an artist’s audience lies, what type of niche market they are engaged with and where there is room for development and growth/evolution.”

For an artist whose profile page is a bit of a blank slate, regardless of which stage in their career they may be, seeing the numbers that other competitors are pulling can feel as out of reach and overwhelming as it does aspirational and idealistic. Because of this, it is only natural to want to manifest and create art that is informed by the concept of having one “streamable” track go viral and following that same glamorized idea or recipe that one song alone can hold the key to all successes. When the entry point is less of a barricade than it has been in the past, there is a danger of cheapening the content.

Much like social media culture has inspired the demand for “microwavable content,” today’s market and accompanying technology draws a parallel to the pioneering phenomenon and influence that having a Top 40 hit debut on Casey Kasem’s syndicated radio show had on the masses for decades. Similar to the days that Top 40 reigned supreme, and still does to a considerable extent, the less-guarded accessibility can undoubtedly influence and compromise the authenticity behind one’s art.

Approachability, however, is a double-edged sword in the age of streaming as well, as exemplified by one glance at the generic Google search results for “How to get on a playlist.” The scattered results, majority of which are not coming from the platforms themselves, speak to how the resources on how to best utilize streaming are becoming increasingly safeguarded in tandem with how heavily sought after playlisting placement has become. Representatives from Spotify, Apple Music, TIDAL and Universal Music Group each denied to comment for this story, further adding to the conundrum that majority of artists know they are supposed to be using streaming to their advantage, but maybe not the how.

While Spotify and Apple specifically are incorporating tools for artists specifically, the protective air surrounding the best practices for streaming services makes it that much more difficult to emulate the success of those receiving checks each week from streaming.

Success used to look like 10,000 hours of practicing one’s craft until preparedness and luck met opportunity. And while success still does look like that bottom-up hustle to a degree, the access to reaching a widespread audience has unlocked doors at much faster rates. As such, artists are able to skip a step or two. A gatekeeper isn’t always needed, unlike in earlier eras when artists were desperately reliant on radio and club disc jockeys breaking their record. As a result, success in the age of streaming looks different at each and every stage, calling on artists to redefine the ways they can use streaming services to their advantage, how streaming data plays a role in exposure across multiple platforms (such as social media, traditional press and in the live music sphere) and what exactly it means to be successful in music in the year 2018.

“On a personal level, a favorite success story for me has been UK rapper Ard Adz. He has been doing fantastically with the release of his No Rain No Flowers EP,” Kahn says, speaking on one of his clients. “On an indie level, he's managed to accumulate 2+ million Spotify streams within eight weeks of the release, as well as charted at No. 2 on the iTunes hip-hop charts. He has a total catalogue of 6+ million Spotify streams, and I’ve been able to see firsthand how streaming has positively impacted his career.

My best advice to artists seeking success through streaming is to understand it's a process and formula which has no specific manual, you have to find what works for you and when it does be patient and willing to grow it - as you would any business.”

Ard Adz, who currently boasts 116,766 organic monthly listeners on Spotify, echoes that sentiment, crediting the streaming platform as a way to gauge and grow his audience.

"Streaming means a lot to me,” he says. “It's allowed me to shape myself as an independent artist, which is just crazy. My streaming family and fan base continues to grow daily and I definitely am enjoying the benefits of being included on amazing playlists, which help introduce new fans to my audience. Just having organic support from my fans in general is amazing. I do everything for them and my son, ultimately.”

While Ard Adz’s story is both encouraging and relatable, especially for artists aiming to provide for their family based off their art alone, what about the success that doesn’t arrive in the form of a million streams or greater? What does that look like? Is it simply receiving a check worth more than cup of coffee each month, because we all know streaming starts off paying pennies? Is it being able to secure a meeting at a renowned record label based off streaming data alone? Is it landing on an influential taste-making playlist, such as on one of Spotify’s branded playlists, RapCaviar, New Music Friday or Fresh Finds? Or Apple Music’s The A: List, #OnRepeat or The Cosign? What about the simple “what next?” question once an artist succeeds in landing one of these goals?

With playlisting specifically, analysis shows that playlists are not created equally, and curators obtain an aura of anonymous mystery that speaks volumes about how while, yes, the tools are accessible, the resources that share the formula for the best way to use them remain particularly safeguarded.

Just Google “how to land on a playlist” and you’ll see how scattered the information is, with no major company giving away the recipe for the sauce that easily. Because of this, the desire to obtain success on streaming platforms coexists as a necessary evil and an obscure but idealistic way to the top.

“As far as success in music, there are countless ways to define it,” Dawson explains. “Kendrick Lamar is gonna put up numbers no matter what. He’s going to make a ton of money, and go down as one of the greats. He has a earned that. But 99% of musicians and artists won’t get that opportunity.

To me success in music is two things: one, making art and being recognized and respected for it and two, being able to live off of doing what you love.

"There are people who hustle and make a living off of music without ever getting a big check from Spotify or Apple. People like Retch gain a following on social media, and translate that following into ticket and merchandise sales. The man packs up and sends his own merch. I have countless albums and t-shirts that were sent to me with a handwritten address from the artist him/herself.

It’s a beautiful thing to go direct to consumer and make money with very few or no middlemen. Griselda Records signed with Eminem, and you can still get a package with Conway or Benny’s handwriting on it. You can do ANYTHING independent.”

Artists are now asking themselves how important streaming data is, all while knowing the answer to a degree. Streaming data is incredibly important because it speaks to numbers, following, impact, investment risk, and above all, how that data translates to money. Labels simply aren’t taking risks on signing artists that may be the most talented and exciting artist they’ve discovered all week, if that talent isn’t backed up by streaming data. Viral content, by nature, has to be engaging, making quality the common thread between both accidental and purposeful marketing. It isn’t an easy task to leverage an existing fan base and capitalize on what could be the next viral song or movement in the moment, but understanding how to utilize one’s existing streaming audience is an increasingly powerful tool.

“Streaming data is relatively important to me,” Dawson continues. “Knowing the number of times a song has been played can either make for proud moments, or disappointing ones. I have songs with over 10,000 plays, others with only a couple hundred. Some of those lesser-played songs, to me, are some of my best. Through streaming data, I know that certain records will be more impactful to MY built-in audience, because I can SEE who my audience is. The biggest advantage of that, I think, is knowing the different regions where I have large numbers of fans concentrated. When I book a tour, I can make sure to touch those places and can expect a larger turnout than some place I haven’t seen support. It’s amazing to see what I sell and stream overseas. Places like Germany, Italy, France, and Spain are home to some of my most consistent supporters. I would have never known.”

Dawson currently has 426 monthly listeners on Spotify, and while that number may skew on the lower side at face value, he’s found success in being able to engage those fans off screen, such as through selling out local venues both in his hometown and in a larger market, such as Brooklyn.

“As an artist who is still trying to make a name for myself, just being on every streaming service makes me feel like I’m really doing it,” he continues. “You can find my music in the same place you can find Jay-Z or Marvin Gaye. Back in the day I could barely get my music into the local section at Sam Goody. There is a feeling of professionalism when I tell people I’m not just on SoundCloud or YouTube.” He then clarifies, adding, “No diss to SoundCloud or YouTube, as those are my favorite.”

With countless artists to draw inspiration from, it’s all about implementing advice that speaks closest to one’s goals or direction, as well as to one’s interpretation of success. Streaming doesn’t have to be the only indicator of success, even though today’s music climate is progressively putting the pressure on. For many, as it has been and as it always will be, streaming is all about knowing the rules in order to either break them or best play the game.

“Going back to Griselda Records, they aren’t doing anywhere NEAR the same streaming numbers as a Lil Pump or Lil Uzi, but they have already proved their staying power,” Dawson notes. “It’s been years in the making for that group of guys and still feels like they are just starting. No gimmicks, no antics, not a bunch of videos showing guns and drugs for shock value, just talent and hard work. And building a fan base from scratch without ‘going viral’ just seems like a better way to go about having longevity in the music business. You’d be surprised at how many rappers you’ve never heard of and would never want to hear with millions of SoundCloud streams. It’s a flash in the pan.”

While examining the good, the bad and the viral in today’s fast-paced music industry, it’s easy to get caught up in the numbers game and let the palpable streaming data provide an addicting but albeit one-dimensional definition of success. A breakout single is an important part of one’s success story, but basing the narrative on the foundation of one successful track alone isn’t going to be enough to survive in today’s climate, given both the unforgiving speed of the industry’s deliverable content demands and the staggering attention span of listeners. A one-hit wonder can have legs today like it has in the days of music industry past but the nature of streaming is proving the model is changing. Audiences simply demand more and the tools to deliver are at one’s disposal, for better or for worse.

When examining the larger picture, authenticity still holds weight in terms of the artistry itself, which is a key component of experiencing long-term success. However, recognizing and understanding current and previous social/viral trends in music, while also keeping in mind how they evolve and grow in the age of streaming, has become a key component of experiencing short-term success. The real power lies in looking past the numbers and seeing the limitless potential of where consistent growth can take one’s career. In music and in life, the view is always worth the climb.

Originally published here on CASH Music's beautifully designed homepage.

#Repost REVOLT: XXXTentacion's death is a call-to-action for the younger generation of hip-hop fans

When Aaliyah died, it felt like a gut punch to me. That same feeling surfaced as I simultaneously discovered firsthand the brilliance of Kurt Cobain, Tupac and the Notorious B.I.G., treating my bartered collection of burned, Sharpie-scrawled mix CDs like inherited heirlooms and seeking guidance in their respective legacies. Over the years, with the artists I lost while becoming a maturing fan of music, such as Amy Winehouse, Michael Jackson, David Bowie, Prince, and most recently, Prodigy, the first thing I thought of when I heard the news of their passing was myself. Where I was when I heard the news; what my gut reaction felt like; who I wanted to speak with first to process the initial details; what songs I found solace in; who introduced me to the artist in the first place; what I wanted to genuinely write about in a sea of other just-as-diehard fans sharing their thoughts in a world that lives under a trending microscope; and what their legacy, in my mind, would be.

However, upon hearing the news that XXXTentacion, a 20-year-old controversy-laden rapper waiting to stand trial for over a dozen felonies in a nationally publicized domestic violence case, had been hunted down, robbed of his Louis Vuitton bag and fatally shot on Monday (June 18), I had a different reaction: "Damn."

With the news still fresh, the conversations were just starting to begin and instead of feeling like my world had stopped, like I had in the past when learning of various celebrity deaths, I instantly thought instead about his impressionable and impassioned fanbase, his mother and his ex-girlfriend. Where does this leave them? How can we get better at holding young artists accountable for their actions while also giving them room, and the opportunity, to grow? What does restorative justice look like in the hip-hop community where "cancel" culture is just as prompt and fleeting? How can we move forward when allegations of abuse made against some of our top 5 rappers can legitimately go ignored, let alone met with any degree of acknowledgement? Why is it still so easy to "just enjoy the music" knowing what we know when it comes to our "problematic faves"? Will XXX be known as a talent gone too soon or an abuser who wasn't brought to justice?

Hours after the confirmation of XXXTentacion's death and frustratingly contrarian reactions dominated the timeline, news broke that 21-year-old emerging rapper Jimmy Wopo had also been fatally shot the same day, losing his life to gun violence while in his hometown of Pittsburgh. Again, I instantly thought of the fans younger than me. I thought about what it's like to be a teenager and lose someone close to you, or even what it's like to experience watching someone else lose someone at a young age. The questions you have and the variety of feelings that linger. The hole in your heart that wasn't there before. Wondering how to fill it and what to do next. The ruthlessness that comes with social media and the alarming increase of desensitization to gun violence overall. What to do when someone you looked up to is taken too soon.

These thoughts, however, are compartmentalized next to my own reflections of XXXTentacion as the heartless, ill-tempered and violent ex-boyfriend who responded to charges of aggravated battery of a pregnant woman, domestic battery by strangulation, false imprisonment, and later, witness tampering and witness harassment, with a statement that included the words: "For all you dumb fuck ass n**s that thought this stupid bitch was pregnant, I've got the paperwork signifying that she wasn't pregnant. So when I get out, I'll fuck all your little sisters in the fucking throat hole." His alleged victim, Geneva Ayala, lives vividly in the back of my mind as I type this, much like Kelis' raw interview detailing allegations of domestic violence against her former husband, Nas, does, especially in the wake of his new album, Nasir. The cards rap has dealt us so far in 2018 are nothing short of complex, to say the least, and we are merely at the beginning stages of having these difficult, and yet historically cyclical, conversations.

When it comes to processing a famous rapper's death, particularly in regard to the undeniably polarizing artist born as Jahseh Onfroy, it doesn't end with an empty hypebeast-fueled "RIP" tweet nor is it over at a detailed, heartfelt "gone too soon" Instagram post. Both are up for due diligent criticism. For better or for worse, that is why a discussion of the complexities these particular moments of mortality bring is warranted, and with optimism, why it is important to outline the lessons his younger core of fans should keep close to heart.

We all know there are ample reasons to grimace at those openly supporting XXXTentacion, in life and in death, just like there are layers to consciously choosing not to support or mourn him. However, as X's supporters are experiencing in real time, losing someone who you looked up to for guidance, especially when it comes to feeling less alone and other topics related to mental health in general, is not an easy thing to process.

While we don't know what would have happened had he appeared in court, we do know that Onfroy was a young man of color who was tragically gunned down in broad daylight, with the violent incident soon becoming accompanied by a graphic, now-viral video capturing his final moments as his body lay lifeless in a luxury vehicle he purchased with money made off streams, consistently problematic behavior and social media prowess. For many, he was a leader of what Kanye West would refer to as "free thought," with his fanbase often feeling cult-like in its unwavering nature. It doesn't come as a surprise to see many of his diehard supporters feeling lost and on the defensive end in the wake of his passing, while others appear to be sickly reveling in the news and referring to what happened to him as deserved karma without hesitation. If I were 16 years old, I'd have no idea how to feel in this moment, especially considering how, at 28, my thoughts are coming in conflicted waves as well. It's disheartening to see people so morally disconnected but, at the same time, a similar statement can be made of X when revisiting the harrowing 142-page testimony against him. So now what?

For the younger fans reading this, it is my intention for those of you who choose to carry XXXTentacion's legacy proudly in his music, that you also keep in mind that you will have other heroes in your lifetime. Arguably better heroes, at that. There is an outpouring of up-and-coming musicians that are navigating similar hardships regarding mental health, depression, hopeless romanticism, small town angst, suicidal thoughts and, above all, a vocalized desire to make this fucked-up world better. Looking at the success XXX experienced despite the nature of the allegations he was facing is further proof that no one can act as another's moral compass when it comes to the people and art we support, but I do feel we can work toward owning our decisions to support in spite of what we learn about an artist's issues and examining what that means overall.

While some are strongly expressing that there is nothing to learn from Onfroy's death given his horrific, inexcusable actions in life and that he signifies yet another shattered life lost to systemic failures, I respectfully disagree. Instead, I implore his captivated, loyal young fans to seek real life mentors who can offer guidance, keeping music close by as a companion soundtrack but not as one's only source of inspiration, wisdom and therapy. XXXTentacion himself was becoming a case study for working to heal the darkest of demons through art and through action, even if we may never know the true intentions behind his desire to openly document the inner-workings of his journey toward self-indulging betterment or his aim to put on selfless charity events, much like the one from his final post on Instagram that also never materialized.

As XXXTentacion consciously used his eccentric-at-best brand of positivity to control his own flawed narrative, with a court date curiously being pushed further and further into the future while his music climbed higher and higher on the charts, Kendrick Lamar, J. Cole, Juicy J, Young Thug and countless others, namely millions of fans, many of which can't yet legally drink, took note. It is undeniable that XXXTentacion had a magnet of influence and with that, fans must become aware of who they are letting draw them in and for what reasons.

His death is a wake-up call for his peers who tauntingly flirt with gang violence in exchange for clout, such as 6ix9ine, who seemingly is now opening his eyes to the reality that there are real-life consequences his trolling could bring, as well as is a cautionary sign to those who navigate their demons and depression with impulse. It's a call-to-action for fans to reexamine who they are letting influence them through their earbuds and social media feeds and look deeper as to why. It's an opportunity to be a bigger person and, sadly for some, that means stopping relentlessly re-traumatizing XXXTentacion's ex-girlfriend by harassing her online, making it difficult for her to hold a job, and heartlessly sabotaging crowdsourcing efforts (one can donate here). Through those disgusting and unnecessary actions, an unfortunate percentage of X's fanbase is mirroring his admitted, outward lack of regret and sympathy, adding to the heartbreaking nature of the situation. This needs to stop immediately.

When skimming Onfroy's short career and existing discography, one will find it is littered with hard-earned lessons and a yearning, albeit desolate, to be better. If the majority of his loyal fanbase is looking for a way to find the positives he wove into the perplexing mess he left us with, may the takeaway be to be better than the man you prematurely idolized. Put the positivity he tried to preach into practice. Don't be a tourist for tragedy or champion his death and instead learn as much as you can from his choices and the consequences he should have faced but didn't. Understand what it means when you press play on his music. Be open to learning why his life and the legacy he left behind isn't going to be the same for everyone.

Our connection to music, and more specifically the artists who create said music, is personal and often times complicated. It is our individual connection to another's art that allows music to unite us, enabling us as fans to form both a universal bond with others and a deep connection to the artist in question. That's what fandom is. And that's also why the deaths of people we've likely never met (or were fortunate to meet briefly once or twice) but idolize sometimes hit just as hard as the people we do know. For this reason, among many, I hope that the young fans who felt an emotional or personal connection to XXXTentacion get the support they need, just as I hope those who resonate with and feel for Geneva Ayala do too.

Originally published on REVOLT TV here.