
As a way of profiling three artists who made three solid hip-hop albums this year—Turf Talk, Prodigy, and Project Pat—the
New York Times' Kelefa Sanneh has written another entry in the "hip-hop: possibly dead, definitely changing" trend piece parade. The reasons, in case you've been otherwise occupied: sales are in the crapper, hip-hop sales are
really in the crapper, one-hit ringtones rule, albums by former backpack outliers are (shockingly, right?) selling better than albums by the one-hit ringtoners, and the genre's mainstream is taking the reality of the new model harder than most thanks to its longstanding "if you're not getting money, you ain't shit" philosophy. The difference being, Sanneh argues, that the rappers themselves are (sometimes) finally realizing the need to scale back their ambitions and "keep grinding" on the indie circuit. But what if hip-hop's multitudes can't be contained by the indie circuit alone? What if the genre
needs the money men to foster creativity? What the underground needs the promise of the giant gold tank to keep that grind rolling?
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