Happy 15th Anniversary to Nas’ eighth studio album Hip-Hop Is Dead, originally released December 19, 2006.
Rappers have been proclaiming that “Hip-Hop is Dead!” since listeners could buy a 12-inch at a record store. The architects of a genre of music and culture are always wary when it appears that those who don’t develop the art get some measure of control over it. I’ve written plenty of features paying tribute to 30-year-old albums by artists who were obviously very uncomfortable with where mainstream success would take hip-hop. You can hear the same sentiments in albums that were released 25 years ago, some of which I’ve also paid tribute to. Fifteen years ago, Nasir “Nas” Jones decided to make what he believed was a definitive statement with his eighth (or ninth, depending on how you count) release, Hip-Hop Is Dead.
By 2006, record labels had pretty much won the battle for hip-hop’s “soul,” at least within the mainstream. During the final era when people still actually bought albums, rap music was a multi-billion-dollar industry. This meant that much of the music put out by these global conglomerates was targeted to homogenized interests and accessible to as wide of an audience as possible. Nas, an extremely gifted street poet with seemingly no ceiling to his lyrical talent, keenly observed this evolving (or devolving) landscape and decided something needed to be done.
Hip-Hop Is Dead also signified the beginning of a new era of sorts for Nas, as he departed his longtime home at Columbia Records to sign with Def Jam in early 2006. It does seem fitting that one of the top emcees of all-time proclaimed hip-hop’s passing on what was still considered the definitive hip-hop label.
It was also intriguing that Nas signed with Def Jam during Jay-Z’s tenure as the label’s president. The two traded some wickedly contentious dis tracks in late 2001 and early 2002, but they officially squashed their differences publicly at Jay’s 2005 “I Declare War” concert. Nas’ record deal, which entailed a distribution deal for his Experience imprint, placed him on a roster that was bursting with talent.
To that point, Nas’ output in the ’00s had been a mixed bag, but I personally believe that Hip-Hop Is Dead is his best release of that decade. It still has many of the issues that are present on Nas’ post-It Was Written (1996) output: some lousy beats, some uninspired choruses, and some conceptual missteps. However, it also features a collection of great lyrical performances by the QB assassin that continue to underscore his massive talent on the mic. It also features a few instances where Nas tries things that are really outside of his comfort zone. Again, they don’t always work, but few artists with Nas’ rep and stature try things quite as left-of-center.
The title Hip-Hop Is Dead itself was meant to be provocative, and it struck a lot of nerves before the album was ever released. Rappers from Young Jeezy to Ludacris to T.I. took exception to the title, believing that Nas was implying that the rise of Southern hip-hop had “killed” the music. It’s true that Nas is pretty bitter across much of Hip-Hop Is Dead, mostly due to disappointment with his peers. However, he doesn’t direct his ire at any one region, but rather toward the entire crop of contemporary rappers that lack the drive to maintain more control over the music that he loves.
Nas starts things on a decidedly angry note with “Money Over Bullshit.” Nas had spent the early to mid ’00s in a myriad of different beefs. Besides his tussle with Jay-Z, Nas had spent some years exchanging blows with the likes of 50 Cent and Harlem’s Dipset crew. Here, he scorches the earth with three verses of fury. He tears his opponents apart over an ominous piano loop and rugged drums, rapping, “Forensics, paramedics, carry cowards off / Defibrillators shock to your chest, try to cough / They die and hit Hell from an iron, I’m fly in YSL, I'm paid from this shit / Got bitches high as hell, and they fucking like AIDS don't exist.”
Nas channels his anger on Hip-Hop Is Dead’s title track and first single, disgusted at how the music industry rewards sensationalism over skills. Nas had to modulate the wrath on both the radio and album version of the song, changing calls of “murder the DJ” to “wreck” them instead. Will.I.Am produces the track, again using a sample of Iron Butterfly’s “In-Gadda-Da-Vida,” which Nas had previously rapped over on “Thief’s Theme” on Street Disciple (2004). Will adds in portions of “Apache” and various other well-known breakbeats to further pay tribute to hip-hop’s golden era.
Nas lambasts old and new rappers alike on “Carry On Tradition.” He first takes bitter “rap pioneers” to task for not making efforts to teach the next generation, then digs into the new crop of rappers for not taking hip-hop seriously and refusing to pay proper respect to their elders.
But overall, Nas is reverential to hip-hop’s glory years throughout Hip-Hop Is Dead. “Where Are They Now” is akin to the major-label version of Quasimoto’s “Rapcats,” with Nas paying tribute to the less well-known and obscure rappers of the ’80s and ’90s over the much-used sample of the guitar break down from James Brown’s “Get Up, Get Into It, Get Involved.” Rather than just listing names, Nas provides a little context for each rapper or crew’s accomplishments.
Sometimes Nas takes his commitment to the old school and the “hip-hop is dead” concept a little too far, as evidenced by “Who Killed It?” The song is one of the most maligned entries in his catalogue, and accurately so. Nas attempts to create a 1940s murder mystery/detective film in song form, all while rapping with an extremely exaggerated Edward G. Robinson/James Cagney accent. In truth, he sounds more like Bugs Bunny.
In an interview on the Desus & Mero show, Nas admitted that “I wilded out” in recording “Who Killed It?” He explained that the song was inspired by his binging of Cagney movies while recording Hip-Hop Is Dead. “It like a joke to do that record,” he expounded, “and then I left it on the album … It happened.”
However, while “Who Killed It?” is not good by any stretch of the imagination, Nas deserves respect for actually leaving the proverbial box, letting down his aura of cool, and absolutely committing to the bit. Besides, it’s not like it’s the only seemingly leftfield idea he has on Hip-Hop Is Dead; he manages to later pull a shockingly solid reinterpretation of Nat King Cole’s “Unforgettable.”
“Can’t Forget About You,” the album’s second single, is produced by Will.I.Am. The track bathes in nostalgia, as Nas reminisces about his career accomplishments as well as the music and cultural touchstones that shaped his life. He also examines how hip-hop’s current direction has caused him to alter his approach. “That's why the gangsta rhymers ain't inspired,” he explains. “Heinous crimes help record sales more than creative lines / And I don't wanna keep bringing up the greater times / But I'm a dreamer nostalgic with the state of mind.”
The weaknesses in Nas’ beat-picking ability can get infuriating. “Hold Down The Block” is a virtual masterclass in lyricism, as Nas vividly describes the cycle of violence in unflinching poetic detail, but the endeavor is nearly derailed by a baby-skin soft beat and limp vocals by Mark B. Mayfield. The Kanye West-produced “Let There Be Light” fares slightly better, as Nas shares his contemplations on his transition from street kid to emcee and his meditations on longevity in the game. However, Tre Williams’ crooning on the chorus does the song no favors.
“Blunt Ashes” is a nearly complete collection of poor choices. Chris Webber may be a Hall of Fame power forward/center, but really wasn’t much of a producer, as his track, filled with disembodied wails and cheesy synths, sounds immediately dated. Nas doesn’t help matters, even as he muses on various pop culture and political folklore. But from his opening ad-libs (“Yo, I wonder if Langston Hughes and Alex Haley got blazed before they told stories?”) to his stilted attempt at a double-time flow, nothing he attempts on the track works.
On his previous albums, Nas tended to share the mic fairly sparingly. Hip-Hop Is Dead features a fairly high-profile list of rap collaborators. First and foremost of these is “Black Republican,” Nas’ long-awaited collaboration with Jay-Z. The pair were two of the best rappers in the game from the mid-1990s forward and are still considered to be the top two emcees of all time. One would almost expect the two to be crushed under the weight of expectations, but fortunately the pair rise to the occasion.
“Black Republican” isn’t a transcendently great song, but it’s really dope, and that’s enough. It feels appropriately epic, as L.E.S. uses a sample of the composition “Marcia Religiosa,” best known for its usage in Godfather II. Nas and Jay embody the presence of updated versions of Vito Corleone and Don Fanucci respectively, except Jigga’s Fanucci is the real deal, instead of a preening phony. Both effectively explain how money and success won’t destroy their friendships or alter their values.
Kanye pulls double duty on “Still Dreaming,” both producing and contributing lyrics to the track. This is when West was in his production prime, masterfully hooking up soulful loops to create an evocative listening experience. It’s the most low-key song on Hip-Hop Is Dead, but nonetheless mournful, as Nas and Kanye explore how people pursue the wrong dreams, hoping to improve their lives.
Hip-Hop Is Dead features a pair of dope tracks with two of the West Coast’s biggest personalities. “Play On Playa,” featuring Snoop Dogg, is the album’s smoothest entry, as the two lay down game over a sample of Marvin Gaye’s “After The Dance.” Nas later collaborates with The Game on the Dr. Dre-produced “Hustlers,” the album’s third single. I’ve never been a particularly huge fan of The Game, but one thing I can’t deny is that one of his talents is creating great songs with Nas. “Hustlers” is the first of what would be Nas’ many collaborations with the Compton-born rapper. Though the two spend most of the time sharing cross-coastal love, Nas again gets ruthless on the song’s final verse. “Rob me or dodge these bullets I’m busting, see that’s malarky you yapping,” he flows. “I open up the tripod to put the Gatling on, and I start clapping,”
Hip-Hop Is Dead ends with “Hope,” where Nas recalls the days and experiences that made him fall in love with the artform in the first place. Unfortunately, the song was torpedoed by clearance issues, leading to Nas’ decision to include the verse (complete with Chrisette Michele’s chorus and extensive ad-libs) acapella. It’s a damn shame that the song doesn’t appear in its original form, since the string-heavy track adds so much to the song’s atmosphere. Nas’ lyrics are potent enough to stand on their own, as he reflects, “I ain’t work a day in my life / Wiping away eraser off the paper, man / I’m just trying to say it right.”
As was the norm for many Nas projects and as well as other albums during the mid ’00s, some of the tracks that didn’t make Hip-Hop Is Dead are nearly as strong as the ones that did. A trio of Salaam Remi-produced tracks, including “Shine On ’Em,” “The N (Don’t Hate Me Now),” and the promo single “Where Y’all At?”, appeared as bonus tracks on various versions of the album and are all remarkably dope. The Kanye-produced “You Mean The World To Me,” then known as simply “The World,” eventually turned up on Lost Tapes II (2019).
Nas also recorded at least three remixes for “Where Are the Now?”, which further solidified his reverence for the era that raised him, as all three feature verses from the type of artists that he shouted out in the original version. Nas put together separate ’80s and ’90s remixes, each showcasing emcees who made their names in those respective decades, from Grandmaster Caz to Doitall from Lords of the Underground. He also rounded up emcees for a “West Coast Version,” featuring artists from hip-hop’s heyday residing on the left coast. It’s an upbeat post-script to what’s largely a bleak album.
I’m always of the mind that a rapper taking a big ambitious swing and missing is preferable to churning out bloodless, character-free, palatable crap. Nas went big with Hip-Hop Is Dead and, for the most part, it paid off. The album was a creative and commercial success, nearly going Platinum while he made a strong artistic statement. Nas continued to take big swings into the next two decades. Again, not all of them have connected, but his determination helps keep hip-hop alive and thriving.
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