5
“The hood ain’t the same”
BY 2010, Seattle’s well-established cultural and economic hip-hop infrastructure provided multiple platforms that served as jumping-off points for public exposure and industry connections. On the national scene Seattle artists increased their impact. One national stage took place in Austin, against a backdrop of the eclectic scene that includes country, blues folk, rock, punk, and jazz. Every March, more than fifty thousand participants gather in Austin for the South by Southwest Music Conference and Festival (SXSW), which journalist Larry Mizell Jr. described as an assembly of “tastemakers, journalists, bloggers, fans, industry types, and uncategorizable movers and shakers.” First held in 1987, SXSW attracted national and international recognition.1 In 2010 the festival featured an unprecedented number of Seattle hip-hop performers receiving unprecedented buzz. “Seems like half the town-that-is-Sea is all heading down to rock various showcases,” Mizell wrote, “including such 206-heavy affairs as the Red Bull Big Tune event and the SXSeattle Party.” Seattle participants included Dyme Def, Grynch, Macklemore, Mash Hall, Sportn’ Life Records (D. Black, Fatal Lucciauno, Spac3man, SK), THEESatisfaction, JFK, Grayskul, Dark Time Sunshine, J.Pinder, Jake One, adopted Seattleite One Be Lo, and Shabazz Palaces, “all rocking in the storied land of barbecue and bourbon.” 2
The scene in Seattle continued in full swing as well. The well-documented sense of artistic collaboration, which ostensibly helped elevate the scene to national stages such as SXSW, asserted itself. In hip-hop terms that translated into long-form showcases, genre crossover, regular collective gatherings that were about more than rehearsed raps, a specifically female space, and further recognition from the mayor’s office. For the first time, hip hop experienced unprecedented acceptance from local mainstream cultural institutions. The practice of local talent bringing together and supporting local talent—the spirit that had helped inform so many compilation albums— continued with Go! Machine, a two-day showcase in 2009 at the Crocodile Café, featuring twelve local acts. Booked by Terry Radjaw of the group Mad Rad, one of Go! Machine’s headliners, the lineup included Fresh Espresso, They Live!, Macklemore, Helladope, THEE-Satisfaction, and Champagne Champagne.3 This collaborative spirit extended beyond hip hop, creating artistic overlap between multiple genres. The “high concept concert” known as Kevin Collabo, held in 2010, was put on by local instrumental electronic group Truckasaurus. The title of the show was based on the name of former beloved Seattle SuperSonics television and radio broadcaster Kevin Calabro. The event featured Truckasaurus, sharing the stage with more than thirty local rappers, including Geologic, Spac3man, Ra Scion, Asun aka Suntonio Bandanaz, Sol, SK, Mash Hall, Neema, Gathigi, Khingz, Grynch, Champagne Champagne, and many more.4
Seattle hip hop was characterized by various regular hip hop– themed nights at venues around town. Sometimes these gatherings turned into something more, as was the case for the weekly event known as Stop Biting. Beginning in 2004 at the venue Lo-Fi, on the northwestern edge of downtown, the name came from hip-hop slang meaning “create your own material/stop copying someone else.” The actual scene included break-dance and freestyle rap sessions and DJs competing to see who could come up with the best original beat. Stop Biting became a multimedia experience in 2012 when it produced yet another compilation album featuring OCnotes, WD4D, and Specs Wizard as well as a mini-documentary film providing insight into the creative process of the artists.5
Another regular event was the monthly Grand Groove, hosted by a collective of local rappers, DJs, and producers, including Shabazz Palaces, THEESatisfaction, Metal Chocolates, Mash Hall, and Black Book. “They all make hip-hop and music related to it, though each is at risk to record a song or do a DJ set that does not include rap,” wrote music critic Andrew Matson. “In general, ‘Grand Groove’ looks like a good chunk of the city’s most forward-thinking musical minds of any genre, assembled for a free monthly chillout event. It should be excellent.” 6 The Ladies Night series in 2010 held at Neumos on Capitol Hill occupied another important space in the local scene. Presented by Lisa Dank, these showcases boasted an impressive range of local talent, including Luxury A.K., Anomie Bell, Katie Kate, Marissa, Life with Blythe, Sap’N, Prisilla, Queerbait, DJ Colby B, Seattle Peach, THEESatisfaction, Canary Sing, Blush Photo, Choklate, and Tawnya “Dice” Cunningham. “Hip-hop breaking out of the goddamned hip-hop scene,” Mizell called it. “Women in the audience, women onstage—I do so love seeing where it’s all at these days.” 7
Seattle Cultural Institutions Embrace Local Hip Hop
In terms of cultural presence, hip hop in Seattle was experiencing a high volume of sustained activity. The regular inclusion of breaking and DJing alongside MCing at long-running events like Stop Biting and Ladies Night provided depth and personality within the scene. The cultural expansion of hip hop within Seattle went beyond performances and into established local mainstream cultural events and institutions. This included politics, as mayoral recognition continued during this period. In 2010 Mayor Mike McGinn pronounced November as Hip-Hop History Month in Seattle, the result of a petition effort led by 206 Zulu and King Khazm. “206 Zulu is excited that Mayor McGinn recognizes the many contributions made by hip-hop artists in the Seattle community,” the document stated. “Being able to celebrate Hip-Hop History Month in Seattle is a celebration of all of the hard work, sacrifice, innovation and dedication of local artists whether famous or nameless. Moving forward, this annual occasion will facilitate additional education programs to celebrate the culture in a positive manner.” 8 In 2014 mayors of several other Washington cities followed suit: Marilyn Strickland (Tacoma), Stephen Buxbaum (Olympia), Andy Ryder (Lacey), Patty Lent (Bremerton). Washington governor Jay Inslee declared November Hip-Hop History Month across the entire state.9
As hip hop received political endorsements from around the Puget Sound region, its presence and history was documented on various levels. In 2012 a wide array of cultural programming accompanied the commemoration of the fiftieth anniversary of Seattle hosting the 1962 World’s Fair, which produced the iconic Space Needle and the Seattle Center. One of these projects was “The Next Fifty,” a collaborative partnership between businesses, organizations, and community members, coordinated by Steve Sneed, Jazmyn Scott, Avi Loud, and Zachary Self. Out of this project came 50 Next: Seattle Hip-Hop Worldwide, a short film by Avi Loud, presented by The Town Entertainment, Seattle Center Cultural Programs, and Festal (which worked to preserve community cultural traditions), and scored by Big World Breaks. More than a film, 50 Next: Seattle Hip-Hop Worldwide was also an online interactive experience, featuring some seventy songs from various Northwest artists, including a new single by the Emerald Street Boys called “When Folks Was Real (Back in the Dayz).” 10
Over time the vast majority of local hip hop–related events had generally operated independent of the mainstream Seattle art/ museum/festival circuit. Slowly, however, instances of community programming recognized and hosted outside traditional hip-hop circles started to become part of the scene. An example of this was Seattle’s Museum of History and Industry (MOHAI)–sponsored February 2014 event on the legacy of Seattle hip hop.11 The program included a panel discussion titled “The Hood Ain’t the Same: A Conversation about Gentrification in Seattle.” In addition to listening stations and interactive demonstrations by visual artists, performances by local MCs and breaking crews were highlighted as well as a screening of Loud’s short film 50 Next: Seattle Hip-Hop Worldwide.12 MOHAI’s The Legacy of Seattle Hip-Hop exhibit ran from September 2015 to May 2016, curated by Jazmyn Scott and Aaron Walker-Loud. Featured items included custom-made Massive Monkees graffiti jackets, a local hip-hop timeline, a hands-on production workstation featuring music from Vitamin D and Jake One, and the fur coat worn by Macklemore in the “Thrift Shop” video. A media partner of this landmark exhibit was local radio station KHTP “Hot 103.7” FM. In 2014 the station made Seattle radio history by becoming the first in the market to feature a rap and R&B “all throwback” format. That same year the station introduced “Classic Hip-Hop Sundays,” an unprecedented entire day of programming dedicated to old-school rap music.
The phenomenon of hip hop as the focus of prestigious local events and institutions continued through 2015. Since 1972, the Northwest Folklife Festival held annually at the Seattle Center has celebrated local culture through music and dance. The Library of Congress named Northwest Folklife a Local Legacy in 1999. Held over four days during Memorial Day weekend, the festival has become a massive event, with more than six thousand volunteer local performers, eight hundred volunteers, and attendance totals of 250,000 from all over the world. For more than four decades, diverse artists such as bluegrass fiddlers, Middle Eastern dancers, Irish cloggers, West African drummers, ska bands, and more have performed at Folklife.13 Since 2000, each festival has included a cultural focus, which functions as a “festival within the festival.” In 2015 hip hop was featured as the festival’s cultural focus for the first time. Numerous figures from the Northwest hip-hop community, both past and present, contributed their time and expertise. The program included a number of panel discussions, several local and national hip hop–based film screenings, and a variety of music and dance performances, spoken word recitals, visual art displays, and workshops.14
The recognition of hip hop by local mainstream institutions had been a long time coming. The 206 Zulu–led mayor’s proclamation of November as Hip-Hop History Month continued a partnership between hip hop and City Hall. However, the first-of-its-kind Legacy of Seattle Hip-Hop exhibit at MOHAI as well as the cultural focus at the 2015 Folklife Festival made clear that the culture had turned a corner in its relationships with entities outside the traditional local hip-hop framework.
Break-dancing Heritage and Another World Title
Although it may not have been the case in a national sense, breaking and graffiti maintained a strong presence in the region, reflected by several events and achievements. Reunions bringing together generations of dancers existed alongside new campus organizations that put on their own competitions. The blueprint of Massive Monkees claiming a world title and leveraging that success into community service would repeat itself. In 2011 the thirty-year anniversary reunion of the Seattle City Breakers became an occasion to celebrate three decades of local hip hop. Organized by Seattle b-boy veterans David Toledo and Carlos “Sir Slam-A-Lot” Barrientes, the event was held in the performance hall at West Seattle Christian Church. Hosted by DJs Supreme and B-Mello, the reunion featured numerous local breaking pioneers.15 These included such crews as Emerald City Breakers, Fresh Force, DeRoxy Crew, and 1st Degree Breakers, and individuals like “Seattle’s first break dancer” Jonathan “Junior” Alefaio, Ziggy “Zig Zag” Puaa, Rafael Contreras, Danny Molino, Spencer Reed, and Dave “Pablo D” Narvaez with his multigenerational crew North City Rockers. On hand to pay respects were current-day dancers Vicious Puppies Crew and Massive Monkees. The event drew a capacity crowd of nearly six hundred who also heard from featured guest speaker “Nasty” Nes Rodriguez.16
Massive maintained a presence at local events despite having won a world title. Even after Massive Monkees Day was declared in Seattle by Mayor Greg Nickels on April 26, 2004, the high-profile movements continued as the Beacon Hill crew was selected to participate in the MTV competitive dance reality program America’s Best Dance Crew.17 The show premiered in 2008 and was presented by executive producer Randy Jackson, best known as one of the three original judges on the Fox reality music program American Idol. Massive participated in the show’s fourth season, competing for a $100,000 first prize and the Golden ABDC Trophy. They ultimately finished in third place behind Cuban-Puerto Rican dancers AfroBorike and eventual champions We Are Heroes, the first all-female group to win the title.18
As the landscape of international breaking evolved in the 2000s, Southeast Asia became a center for worldwide competition. By 2012, South Korea in particular was a focal point as the site of the R16 World B-Boy Masters Championship, held in Seoul. Since its inception in 2007, R16 had emerged as one of the world’s premier breaking events, thanks to unprecedented support from the South Korean government, specifically the Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism, which was a primary sponsor. It had been eight years since Massive won the World B-Boy Championships in London, and in the five-year history of R16, first place had been dominated by South Korea and Japan. In fact, no American crew had ever even made it to the finals at R16. After coming together for another improbable run of qualifying at the US nationals, Massive Monkees made their way through round after round of competition before defeating Simple System, from Kazakhstan, in the finals.
After two world titles, Massive Monkees continued to transform their success as a breaking crew into community service. In 2013 the group opened its own dance studio in Seattle’s International District called The Beacon, named in honor of the Beacon Hill neighborhood where the crew was born. Massive took advantage of a program called Storefronts Seattle, which offered grants to fill empty storefronts with art exhibits and creative enterprises in various areas of downtown. Of some four hundred applicants, the crew’s proposal for The Beacon was one of eighty applications accepted.19 The Beacon provided a variety of offerings for dancers, nondancers, and all skill levels in between. There was endurance training or advanced classes taught by the likes of Jeromeskee and Fever One. In addition to paid classes, there was a free after-school program. “This isn’t just a working studio for one of the planet’s most celebrated break dance crews and their friends,” said Storefront Seattle program manager Matthew Richter. “It’s a means of engaging the whole neighborhood, the whole city, in making the art that makes the Monkees so successful. They’re telling passers-byers to join them inside and help them create this vibrant, exuberant urban art form.” 20
While Massive reached out to the community in general, there were specific efforts aimed at women and girls. One example of this was a class titled “Way of the B-Girl,” first offered in 2013. Held at The Beacon, it was taught by Massive member Fides “Anna Banana Freeze” Mabanta. Offered free for newcomers to The Beacon, the class consisted of five one-hour meetings on select Thursdays during July and August. A description of the class asked: “Do you or any other ladies you know want to LEARN TO BREAK and practice WITH OTHER FEMALES? Then CHECK OUT this introductory B-GIRL dance class taught by Massive Monkees’ own, b-girl Anna Banana Freeze, for a LIMITED TIME only!” The course promised: “YOU will become empowered, be stronger and feel good as well as; (1) Learn basic moves (toprocks, drops, footwork, freezes); (2) Explore breakin’ concepts such as originality, style, character, battling, etc.; (3) Build strength and stamina as we continuously drill moves and sweat out stress during class!; (4) Discover truly awesome music; (5) Learn about b-girl history and discover b-girl role models from around the world; (6) Engage in discussion topics such as ‘how to ignore males’ and ‘you are a b-girl and an individual’; (7) Have FUN!” 21
This diversity of local dance activity, including grassroots events and competitions, showed no signs of slowing down. Mike “Mikeskee” Huang, founder of the University of Washington Hip-Hop Student Association (UWHHSA), organized the 2012 breaking competition Reign Supreme in partnership with Red Bull, the Associated Students of UW, and Massive Monkees. Contestants came from as far away as Brazil, Japan, and Taiwan to compete for a $2,500 first prize. Relationships with sponsors like Red Bull allowed Reign Supreme to include well-known judges such as Neguin, a Brazilian b-boy who also went by Fabiano Carvalho, who had won the UBC (Ultimate B-Boy Championship) and Red Bull BC One competitions.22 The ability to directly trace some of Seattle’s earliest breakers to their world champion descendants was the ultimate in hip-hop lineage. Repeating the pattern of success, such as being invited to join Rock Steady Crew or winning R16, and then returning to serve the community, had been the local blueprint. The methodology of that service was crucial. Intentional programming like “Way of the B-Girl” provided important spaces for a variety of participants to engage hip hop without the bravado and machismo that is often present. These approaches provided quality depth and diversity as new generations entered the scene.
The local dance community was shaken when on June 5, 2014, a lone gunman opened fire with a shotgun on the campus of Seattle Pacific University. One student was killed and two wounded in the attack by a local man who was not a student at the school and ultimately pled not guilty to the crime by reason of insanity. The single fatality was nineteen-year-old Paul Lee, from Portland, Oregon, who had been a member of SPU’s student hip-hop dance club Ante Up. In response to the tragedy, the University of Washington Hip-Hop Student Association and Ante Up collaborated to produce a tribute video called Dance for Paul Lee. The four-minute video featured clips of dancers from Seattle and Portland but included others from locations around the world as far away as Turkey.23
Graffiti Locations Expand
As dynamic and well-known as the hip-hop dance scene was in Seattle, graffiti also maintained an active, albeit less-famous, presence. This was partially highlighted by the demolition of an unofficial local graffiti landmark. The building, located in the University District, had been an hourly Jacuzzi rental business known as Tubs from the early 1980s. When Tubs closed its doors in 2007, the property was purchased by an owner who essentially turned the entire building into a “free wall,” which meant the Graffiti Nuisance Ordinance did not apply. Designs and color schemes took turns rotating on walls that had ample room for several grand design paintings. The building was finally torn down in 2014 to make room for a mixed-use residential and commercial building.24
The elements of unsanctioned graffiti continued to be countered somewhat as around the city walls in areas such as downtown and other parts of North Seattle served as spots for invited graffiti. Several of these locations were free walls, while others were sites where property owners hired graffitists to paint walls that had been continuously hit up illegally. Some of the featured artists included members of the pioneering DVS Crew, the female graffiti collective Few and Far, as well as Eras, Merlot, Video, Weirdo, and Huemr.25
Questions about Seattle Hip Hop’s National Popularity
The steady, growing optimism of journalists who covered Seattle hip hop seemed to indicate a coming upswing. If a creative community’s life lies in the depth of its variety, the local scene was strong and healthy. New waves of Seattle street rap mixed with more abstract material that embraced, among other things, queer identity. While shows and tours provided valuable cultural programming in smaller cities and college towns around the region, there were still questions about the negative influence of artists who felt entitled and whether it was actually necessary to leave town in order to make it. Questions about the dynamics around what was becoming known as “frat rap” raised issues of racial and cultural appropriation. Alternative funding methods appeared as business models in the industry shifted, as did recognition for music production, and the question who’s next from Seattle was soon answered.
Over the decades the already immense regional power of Seattle culture was magnified even more by the emergence of local hip hop. By 2010 the numerous college towns, smaller cities, and rural communities scattered around the Pacific Northwest looked to Seattle as essentially the only lifeline by which to experience live hip hop. “In fact, the regional TPOB tour (Bellingham, Pullman, Ellensburg, Yakima) can be seen as a kind of service that Seattle (the big cultural center of the region) provides to small towns and remote college campuses,” Charles Mudede pointed out. For those more rural parts of the region, hip hop, which has its foundation in the urban experience, represented another world that could be accessed through radio, the Internet, and television. “Pinder, GMK, Dyme Def, Royce the Choice, and Eighty4 Fly (men who’ve cut their teeth in the hoods and streets of a big city),” Mudede wrote, “present these outposts with an opportunity to see and be near the real deal.” 26
There was also a familiar sentiment in local media around the age-old question of Seattle hip hop’s popularity outside the Northwest. With seemingly all the necessary ingredients present in the local scene to build a national following, the questions of why it had not happened yet became louder. “What will it take for this scene to earn a country-wide audience on a par with those of, say, Atlanta or St. Louis?” asked an article in the Seattle Weekly. “After all, we’ve got the producers, the recording studios, the MCs, the venues, an endless supply of traveling acts, and a solid local and regional fan base on which to build,” wrote journalist Kevin Capp. “And after massively successful events like Go! Machine, it can be tempting to believe that Seattle’s hip-hop scene is playing at a higher level than it actually is.” Blue Scholars manager Dave Meinert added: “There’s a lot of local hype that never amounts to anything outside of Seattle.” As a result, the article concluded, “Seattle is great at breeding mediocrity. . . . The city’s hip-hop scene, long home to a multitude of sounds and styles, saw the emergence in 2009 of something bordering on a cohesive aesthetic: fun-loving, often spaced-out and danceable grooves that would seem to provide those outside Seattle with something to latch onto—a flare in the sky to guide them.” 27
When rising local artist J.Pinder—who had worked with Sportn’ Life Records and Jonathan Moore, Vitamin D, and Jake One—relocated to Atlanta in 2010, the question burned: Is leaving Seattle necessary to make it? “Pinder’s move does hurt Seattle’s scene because it subtracts from its diversity,” Mudede argued. “If Seattle is to be the next home of hip-hop—and that is not an impossibility—then it needs a wide spectrum of rappers, modes, and positions. We need gangsters, lesbians, Afro-futurists, hardcore hipsters and rappers who possess Pinder’s sense of the theatrical.” 28
Alternative Funding Sources and Battling Originality
The apparent dilemma of whether to stay or go coincided with a shift in the traditional recording industry business model. As overall album sales fell by half in the aftermath of Napster and digital file sharing that began in the early 2000s, artists, especially independent ones, were finding new and different ways to get their music out to listeners. With the release of the 2011 album Cinemetropolis, Blue Scholars added yet another layer to their business methodology. Cinemetropolis was funded through the website Kickstarter, where projects and ideas are financed by other people. It only took a few days for Blue Scholars to raise more than $10,000, and Macklemore, who used Kickstarter to fund his “Wings” video, nearly doubled his $10,000 goal in just two weeks.29 The Physics—Gathigi “Thig Natural” Gishuru, Njuguna “Monk Wordsmith” Gishuru, and Justin “Justo” Hare—also turned to Kickstarter with a goal of $8,000 and raised more than $11,000 to produce their 2012 album Tomorrow People.30
There were aspects of ingenuity and creativity in these alternative methods of raising funds that pushed and challenged the scene. But these were sometimes countered by elements of entitlement and exaggerated self-importance. “There are a million terrible rappers who believe they’re owed a living because they keep turning out mediocre shit,” wrote Larry Mizell Jr. in 2011, “and then there are some who do it because they simply have to.” 31 Issues around a willingness or ability to be artistically different and original seemed to be front and center. “In case you haven’t noticed, artists parroting that mainstream party line in Seattle aren’t finding a lot of success here. The folks who want to hear that kind of shit are already programmed to treat it like disposable background music. There’s no real support for it here,” Mizell cautioned. “I think, for reasons specific to our region, far more people want to hear something from the soul, something that speaks to them.” 32 Later that year, he wrote: “Or you can just bitch about it not being about you, or your boy, or your crew; surely your bitter and self-centered approach is what the town needs more of.” 33
Sub Pop Expands Its Hip-Hop Roster
Indeed, as local hip-hop music expanded, variety of artistic content and approach seemed to be a driving force, including instances that directly challenged long-held conventions of mainstream hip-hop culture. Despite the anonymous nature of their initial release, the buzz and critical acclaim for Shabazz Palaces increased. In 2010 Ishmael Butler reached out to Jonathan Moore, who called on Megan Jasper, executive vice president at Sub Pop Records. Jasper, with more than twenty years at Sub Pop, was well aware of the label’s past experiences with hip hop. However, Shabazz Palaces’ experimental approach and artistic charisma convinced Jasper and Sub Pop to sign the group. Well before the signing, nearly everyone who worked at Sub Pop had been infatuated with the EPs Shabazz Palaces and Of Light.34
“Shabazz’s almost subliminal messages are universal: ‘Find out who you are and see it/Find out what you are and free it/Find out who you love and need it/Find out what you can and be it,’ ” wrote Charles Mudede. “It’s a timely sentiment for Seattle hip-hop, which, after years of self-negating/hating or looking too much to the Bay Area and Brooklyn for direction, is enjoying a creative surge and homegrown industry that is—no bullshit—changing the landscape of Seattle music.” 35 Larry Mizell Jr. agreed: “Seeing as how Sub Pop has an international rep for showcasing game-changing talent, and being that Shabazz are about the most revolutionary shit I’ve heard in years, I’m anticipating some cool developments.” 36 Shabazz Palaces became the first rappers to appear on the cover of The Stranger. The duo was announced as recipients of the first Stranger Genius Award for Music. “Shabazz’s songs aren’t built with the usual sixteen-bars/ chorus/repeat structure of most hip-hop—they take a more freeflowing form,” The Stranger said. “When Butler locks into a groove, he often rides it until it’s comfortably exhausted, or lets one otherwise unobtrusive line repeat until it becomes a mantra or a chant, not so much a traditional, song-anchoring chorus.” 37
Performances by Shabazz Palaces in New York City drew attention from major media outlets like the New York Times. Music writer Jon Caramanica wrote that the duo’s show “made an awkward mess, fascinating in the details but harsh enough to thin an already thin crowd.” He described the group’s music as “unexpectedly beautiful juxtapositions of the digital and analog, hard drum-machine beats set against softer bongos or the resonant sweetness of an mbira” and “dense, curious, emotional and a little ferocious.” 38 Following the release of their debut album Black Up in 2011, Shabazz Palaces was profiled in the New Yorker. “Shabazz Palaces uses sonic fog and unusual mixing to obscure its charms—a sly and unpredictable lead m.c. and a clutch of sonorous tones—not because the group is dissuading anyone from entering its world but because it is committed to high-resolution disorientation,” wrote critic Sasha Frere-Jones. “All of this is keyed to pleasure. ‘Black Up’ would once have been called a ‘headphones album’: it is rich and striated, and was made for the closeup of the in-ear speaker.” 39
Back in Seattle, THEESatisfaction also signed with Sub Pop Records in 2011. The duo of Stasia “Stas” Irons and Catherine “Cat” Harris-White continued Seattle’s practice of going against traditional hip-hop norms. “Almost exactly a year ago, local ‘psychedelic space-rap/jazz’ duo THEESatisfaction played Neumos for the first time,” wrote journalist Andrew Matson. “It was one of Stasia Irons and Catherine Harris-White’s earliest concerts as a group, and the girlfriends only had seven or eight songs in their repertoire. They were nervous as all get out.” The group had since become veteran performers, regularly playing shows all over the city. “They work rooms with confidence that says, yes, Seattle will accept gay, Afrocentric musicians that vocalize jazz over low-key hip-hop instrumentals and dance like New Jack Swing hippies.” 40 When THEESatisfaction released their debut album awE naturalE in 2012, national music media outlets such as Pitchfork picked up on the group, calling them “ultra-positive Queens of the Stoned Age who prioritize uninhibited genre exploration and good vibe-seeking above all” and “a pleasantly surprising resurrection Pacific Northwest-via-Brooklyn hippie-hop that we never might have anticipated a few years ago.” 41
Acceptance of Seattle Street Rap
While groups like Shabazz Palaces and THEESatisfaction represented new and alternative forms of hip hop, rap from a street perspective symbolized the mainstream status quo. Street rap from Seattle did not emerge as it had in other parts of the country during the late 1980s. Many artists from California became famous for misogynistic themes and resolving conflict with gunplay in their songs. This was not the case with Sir Mix-A-Lot, who rapped about intervening in a domestic dispute using mace. Could street rap from Seattle really ever catch on, and what had traditionally prevented this from happening? “There’s the fact that it’s Seattle, meaning not Chicago’s South Side or something,” explained Larry Mizell Jr. “Yeah, there are real hoods here (FYI, ‘hood’ means more than just an impoverished locality, it also refers to the folks representing it), but a person from another city (or a better-off section of this one) might never believe it.” He continued: “Mainstream Seattle, aka middle-aged-to-old white men and women, as it stands, have nothing to gain from helping proliferate the messages of a marginalized people’s pain and anger.” The push for this would have to be grassroots, coming from the streets themselves. However, those same “streets” often failed to provide the necessary support—physical, financial, or both—found in other healthy local scenes such as Atlanta, Oakland, and Detroit. Still, there was another possibility. “The grand majority of Seattle street rap (there’s a lot) has sucked, historically,” Mizell contended. “Why should the hood support or keep supporting an artist (buy product, spread the word, go to shows) who doesn’t think they deserve better than hella outdated, cheap-sounding beats, zero personality or detectable rap skills, and rehashed clichés they can hear executed far better via devilish commercial TV and radio?” 42
Jesse “Nacho Picasso” Robinson, who announced his presence with his release Blunt Raps in 2010, emerged with a different style of local street hip hop. Nacho and the BAYB (BaddAzzYellowBoyz) brought “a wild new energy to Seattle street rap, a subgenre whose best participants have mastered a steely mastermind cool. Instead, BAYB’s Jarv, Steezie, and Nacho rage shirtless, gold-toothed, and tatted to the wrists.” 43 Larry Mizell Jr. summarized Picasso’s position this way: “To the yang that characterizes some of Seattle’s most wellknown hip-hop—bright, ultra-posi[tive], upward-seeking—Nacho and BSBD [producers Blue Sky Black Death] are the yin: dark, colder, seeking the low places.” This so-called “cult of the villain” style was described as “drug-induced thug noir” and “suicidal shoegaze thugwave.” 44 Nacho Picasso’s 2011 album, For the Glory, received national recognition, including being named on Spin magazine’s 50 Best Mixtapes of 2011 and the music websites Stereogum and Pitchfork. “Robinson is Nacho and Picasso, part fast food, part real deal. He is the hardcore hood nerd, the walking talking paradox writ large. Nacho openly claims he’s an arrogant asshole, not to be trusted, a bridge burner, and a numbnuts. And For the Glory is basically a paean to girls, guns, tattoos, chronic, and comics,” wrote Jeff Weiss on Pitchfork. “Picasso references his internal turmoil but never delves too deep. Nor does he need to. For the Glory is one of the best rap debuts of the year, one that simultaneously manages to say everything but reveal nothing.” 45 Along with Nacho Picasso came his crew, the primarily Beacon Hill neighborhood–based Moor (Militia Organization Order Returns) Gang. Among the members of this collective were Gifted Gab, Thaddeus David, Jarv Dee, Steezi Nasa, Jerm D, Cam The Mac, and Kris Kasanova.
Seattle Hip Hop in the National Spotlight
Discussions about rap from Seattle often focused on vocals as opposed to production, although widespread critical acknowledgment of local musical talent was not only reserved for MCs. Over the course of two decades, Jake One had continued to build on a tradition of dynamic Seattle producers who were actively courted by some of the biggest names in music. A few of the artists Jake has produced include De La Soul, E-40, Tupac Shakur, 50 Cent, Rakim, Cypress Hill, T.I., Pitbull, Ghostface Killah, and Snoop Dogg. In December 2012, he received a Grammy nomination for production credit on the album Some Nights by the American indie pop band Fun. Jake One secured another nomination for his production on the song “3 Kings” by Rick Ross, featuring Dr. Dre and Jay-Z. Ross’s album God Forgives, I Don’t was nominated for the Best Rap Album award.46 The stars kept calling as Jake One produced the 2013 song “Furthest Thing” for Canadian superstar Drake.
Jake One’s Grammy-level recognition was part of a wave that put Seattle hip hop in the spotlight like never before. Another seemingly unlikely rise was framed within an unorthodox approach. In 2011 Macklemore’s local profile was cemented by a string of successes. Perhaps sensing what was coming, Larry Mizell Jr. wrote in January of that year: “This dude Macklemore is going off right now. If you get the impression that a whole lot of folks are tripping over themselves to declare 2011 the Year of the Mack, it’s only because that’s exactly what it’s looking like.” 47 Indeed, a few months later, Macklemore appeared above the fold on the front page of the Seattle Times. He and Ryan Lewis sold out concerts on three consecutive nights at the Showbox in record time, where at the final show Sir Mix-A-Lot appeared as a guest onstage to perform “Posse on Broadway” and literally pass a torch to Macklemore. “I hand the baton to you,” Mix-A-Lot said. “Run baby run!” 48 Macklemore also appeared on the cover of national rap magazine XXL as part of its “Freshman Class of 2012.”
With the rising popularity of Macklemore and others, the inevitable discussion about the impact and contributions of white hip-hop artists returned. The fact that a subgenre of white hip hop now had an identifier—“frat rap”—indicated that changing racial dynamics were occurring within the culture. Pittsburgh artist Mac Miller, who died in 2018, exemplified the “frat rap” archetype, as he helped open the door to the phenomenon. After his appearance, “all the beer-pongin’-ass second-rate Millers are pouring in (there’s some good beer-based jokes here, seeing as one of these fools actually calls himself Sam Adams),” observed Larry Mizell Jr. “But I also believe in it ain’t where you from, it’s where you at, as long as where you’re at is a place called ‘respecting what came before’ and ‘actually decent at rapping.’ ” Another example, Chris Webby, headlined a show at the Crocodile in Seattle. “This guy,” Mizell cracked, “would’ve been lucky to get a buck on the nerdcore circuit four years ago, and now you probably can’t kick the YouTube machine without some of his shittiness falling out. Such is life. Some of the old heads, upon seeing shit like this, scream, ‘Battle stations!’ but I’m more like, ‘Abandon ship!’ ” 49
Macklemore’s more thoughtful content and reflective approach distinguished him from the frat rap blueprint and kept local opinion generally in his favor. This helped set the stage for a fateful fifteen-month run in the careers of Macklemore and Ryan Lewis. They released their album The Heist in October 2012 and soon the question of who would be the next rapper from Seattle to make a national impact was answered. While the album was released on Macklemore’s label—Macklemore LLC—manager Zach Quillen worked with the Alternative Distribution Alliance (ADA), an independent arm of Warner Music Group, to help expand The Heist’s reach beyond the Seattle market and push pop radio promotion.50
The duo completely financed the production of their videos, and things moved quickly. “First, this,” wrote Mizell in October. “As of this writing, Macklemore & Ryan Lewis have had the number one album—The Heist—in the US (and a few other spots) on iTunes for the past few days, above the album from Mack’s fellow 2012 XXL freshman Machine Gun Kelly, Jay-Z’s Live in Brooklyn, and the Pitch Perfect soundtrack.” He explained the significance of the moment: “What we have here is a big deal—as well as a true DIY success story. As a witness to Mack’s dues-paying, self-examination, and hard work over the last seven years, I am goddamn proud of him and RL.” 51 Macklemore and Ryan Lewis made national television appearances on the Ellen DeGeneres Show in October and Late Night with Jimmy Fallon in December. In January 2013 the single “Thrift Shop” featuring Michael “Wanz” Wansley reached number one on the Billboard “Hot 100,” where it spent six weeks. The song broke the record for longest-running number one rap song in the history of Billboard’s “Hot R&B/Hip-Hop” chart.52 “Thrift Shop” sold several million copies, and the video accumulated more than 1.3 billion views on YouTube.53 In May 2013 the duo’s next single, “Can’t Hold Us,” featuring Ray Dalton, hit number one on the Billboard chart. Macklemore and Ryan Lewis became the first duo to have its first two singles reach number one in more than fifty years of the Billboard “Hot 100.” The single “Can’t Hold Us” sold more than four million copies and remained the number one song for five weeks.54
Released as a single in July 2012, “Same Love” featuring Mary Lambert was the rare rap song that openly supported gay rights and same-sex marriage. “I’m somebody that spends my life working on fighting fear. Realizing the fear that I have in myself, seeing fear in society and trying to address it and bring it to the surface,” Macklemore explained. “When it comes to the arguments against same-sex marriage, if you strip away the biblical, the religious shit, it all comes down to fear. Fear of something that you don’t know. And that has been the root of negativity in humanity since humans have been walking around this earth.” 55 Referendum 74, approved in November 2012, legalized same-sex marriage in Washington State with “Same Love” serving as an anthem for the campaign. Macklemore, Lewis, and Lambert gave high-profile performances of the song on the Ellen DeGeneres Show and at the 2014 Grammy Awards, where they were joined on stage by Madonna and Queen Latifah, who presided over the weddings of more than thirty gay and straight couples. “Same Love” eventually reached number eleven on the Billboard chart while also stirring up controversy when teachers in Michigan and North Carolina were suspended after playing the song in class.56
Macklemore and Lewis concluded their world tour in support of The Heist in December 2013 by playing three consecutive nights of sold-out shows at the seventeen-thousand-plus-seat Key Arena with Sir Mix-A-Lot as the opening act. The Heist peaked at number two on the Billboard album chart and has sold more than one million copies to date. It won the title Favorite Rap/Hip-Hop Album and Macklemore and Ryan Lewis won Favorite Rap/Hip-Hop Artists at the 2013 American Music Awards. When nominations were announced for the 2014 Grammy Awards, The Heist was included for Best Rap Album as well as Album of the Year. In addition, Macklemore and Ryan Lewis were nominated for Best New Artist, “Thrift Shop” received nominations for Best Rap Performance and Best Rap Song, “Can’t Hold Us” was nominated for Best Music Video, and “Same Love” was nominated for Song of the Year.57
After a staggering seven nominations, the duo took Best New Artist, The Heist won Best Rap Album, and “Thrift Shop” received Best Rap Performance and Best Rap Song at the fifty-sixth annual Grammy Awards in January 2014. Following the ceremony, Macklemore sent an apology via social media to Los Angeles artist and fellow Best Rap Album nominee Kendrick Lamar for The Heist winning over Lamar’s Good Kid, m.A.A.d. City, which Macklemore felt was more deserving. With songs like “Thrift Shop” and “Same Love,” Macklemore went directly against two of the most well-established norms in mainstream rap culture—namely bling (the wearing of expensive jewelry and brand-name clothing) and homophobia. Undoubtedly the liberal nature and relative isolation of the greater Seattle area, combined with Macklemore’s whiteness, contributed to his ability to successfully engage these topics through the lens of hip hop.
“Thrift Shop” sounded like nothing else out there at the time. “As Sir Mix-A-Lot raps only like Sir Mix-A-Lot, Macklemore raps only like Macklemore,” Charles Mudede wrote in The Stranger. “Indeed, many of the comments on his YouTube videos compare him to Tupac, not because they sound similar, but because they share a style that feels honest and direct. Finally, ‘Thrift Shop’ also returned laughter to the dance floor and the pop charts.” Because Seattle was so disconnected from the mainstream in the northwest corner of the United States, Mudede continued, it could never produce “the kind of predictable rappers who are obsessed with gold everything (Atlanta’s Trinidad James) or have a serious boner for fucking problems (NYC’s A$AP Rocky). Our rappers are instead asking girls to buy them drinks (Don’t Talk to the Cops!), or having Christmas on the moon (THEESatisfaction), or celebrating the greatness of a Filipino deli on Beacon Hill (Blue Scholars), or feeling like $1,000 in 1988 (Fresh Espresso), or dealing with an old beat-up Volvo (Grynch).” Mudede concluded that “ ‘ Thrift Shop’ will sound like something that came straight out of the blue if you don’t come from ‘The Town.’ ” 58
Hip-Hop Occupies and Africatown
The activist and community-service component of hip-hop culture had long been present in Seattle, both in demonstrations and organizations. Past protests against radio station KUBE and Mayor Paul Schell were complemented by the work of organizations like Seattle Hip-Hop Summit Action Network (SHHSAN) and 206 Zulu. The growth of local infrastructure allowed for the emergence of new and different methods, such as protesting a protest, establishing an African American cultural preservation movement in the Central District, rhymes on the op-ed page of the newspaper, underlying hip-hop connections to two massive political outcomes, and the acknowledgment of ten years of service from two different sources.
Not limited to traditional paths of resistance, local hip hop found itself confronting issues of inequity within an emergent and popular social justice movement. In September 2011 the Occupy Wall Street movement received mainstream media attention when protesters used New York City’s Zuccotti Park as a base for their activities throughout the Financial District in Manhattan. The Occupy movement stood against social and economic inequality and argued that the power enjoyed by large corporations and the global financial system disproportionately benefited a small minority of people. The term “the 99%” was popularized during this period, which referred to the concentration of wealth among the top 1 percent of earners versus the remaining 99 percent. The group stated: “We are the 99 percent. We are getting kicked out of our homes. We are forced to choose between groceries and rent. We are denied quality medical care. We are suffering from environmental pollution. We are working long hours for little pay and no rights, if we’re working at all. We are getting nothing while the other 1 percent is getting everything. We are the 99 percent.” 59
In less than a month, Occupy protests sprung up in dozens of communities around the United States and in numerous countries around the world. In Seattle protesters gathered downtown outside the Federal Building and at Westlake Park. When Seattle police began removing protesters from Westlake, some of them relocated to City Hall at the invitation of the mayor. By the end of October, the Occupy encampment had settled on the campus of Seattle Central College. From the beginning, there were racial, cultural, and socio-economic tensions within Seattle’s Occupy movement, and soon a hip hop–based offshoot of Occupy Seattle, Hip-Hop Occupies, was formed. The group’s first action, “Rise and Decolonize: Let’s Get Free,” was held November 18 in Westlake Park.
Among the leaders of Hip-Hop Occupies in Seattle was Julie C, a longtime local artist and activist. Larry Mizell Jr. asked in The Stranger whether “decolonize” was a rebuttal to the concept of “occupation.” Julie C responded: “Decolonization of the world, our neighborhoods, and our hearts is the movement, and has been. Decolonization shows solidarity to our indigenous comrades, POC [people of color], and allies in the third world who experience the term ‘occupation’ very differently than the white liberal reformists who seem to be the popular faces and loudest voices emerging from Occupy.” She further explained: “At the same time, we embrace the term ‘occupation’ as it has been reclaimed by militant workers of color globally to describe a strike back against oppressive forces.” Other high-priority issues for Hip-Hop Occupies were youth justice, education disparities, corruption in the school district, diversion of money for youth crime prevention away from community organizations, and economic displacement, specifically the demolition of Yesler Terrace, the lone public-housing complex in the Central District. Asked about the movement’s successes in Seattle, Julie C cited protest actions that had taken place at Chase Bank and the Sheraton Hotel downtown, which displayed the resolve and commitment among occupiers. “It was reported as a riot,” she said, “but on the ground, it was beautiful. People were not allowing their allies to be arrested. They formed barricades to prevent arrests. They showed police they were in control. Cops didn’t know what to do. That’s a good sign.” 60
The activist nature of Hip-Hop Occupies was complemented by efforts aimed at historic community preservation, led by a longtime hip-hop advocate. In 2003 census data indicated that for the first time that more African Americans lived in suburban areas outside Seattle than inside the city limits.61 Partially in response to this, an initiative called Africatown was launched in 2011 with Wyking Garrett as a member of the core advisory team. Using a model based on Seattle’s Chinatown/International District, Africatown sought to create a core area of economic, educational, and cultural development in the CD. Garrett argued: “[Asian Americans] have a Chinatown–International District Preservation Authority—to preserve and develop. It’s about the past and it’s about the future. This is the only African-American community.”
Africatown briefly occupied the vacant Horace Mann School building on Cherry Street and immediately used the space to offer classes for youth, Black history immersion, technology access, and a middle school for Muslim girls. “Part of the solution Africatown represents is that this is not lower Capitol Hill, this is not west Leschi, not upper Madison Park,” Garrett said. “All these different ways they seek to ignore or marginalize, or devalue the people who have made their lives here and contributed to the richness that Seattle offers to the world.” Africatown was envisioned as eventually being a destination for all people who valued the contributions and history of African Americans. After watching an Africatown presentation by Garrett, Mayor Ed Murray said he felt “the city should refer to the area as Africatown–Central District.”62 The proposal stood in the face of continued and accelerated gentrification in the CD, propelled primarily by new arrivals working well-paying jobs, skyrocketing real estate values, and the increased property taxes that accompanied them.
Performance Op-Ed in the Seattle Times
Instances of activism and service among the local hip-hop community took a variety of different forms. Protests, occupations, and civil dis-obedience had all served useful and important purposes. Eventually these methods also included the newspaper editorial page. In early 2012 a rash of shootings shook the Seattle area. These included the murder of four patrons at a coffee shop in the north side of the city and several suspected gang- or drug-related killings in the south end. Following this violent trend, George “Geologic/Prometheus Brown” Quibuyen of Blue Scholars wrote an op-ed in the Seattle Times. He had written an article for Al Jazeera in 2011, voicing support for the emerging Occupy Wall Street movement.63 This time, he created an op-ed that was a song and video performance:
Never heard of this, city getting murderous—
occupation dangerous like Philippine journalists.
Crazy and deranged they describe him in the same pages
that would call him terrorist, if not for the melanin deficiency.
Gang problem bigger than just juvenile delinquency.
Gangs is survival if environments is grimy.
To begin with—speaking of which, let’s be consistent—
Today is called a tragedy, yesterday a statistic.
I’m listening, before I ever speak upon insisting.
My name is young Prometheus and this is my opinion:
Watch “The Interrupters,” see ordinary civilians
can police themselves before they have to call police for help.
At least a little space to breathe, if you believe all violence
is abhorrent to your being, then why you oversee it?
If the killer wears a uniform but if the killer’s me,
it’s normal if the victim also looks like me.
Shots fired in the south end, nobody cares.
Shots fired in the north end, everybody scared.
Nothing they can do for us that we can’t do ourselves.
Point the finger at the mirror instead of somebody else.
Can’t lie, I know the music can be influential,
but not as influential as desperation. They saying
that you gotta act right if you wanna have rights,
but what if you were born into a wrong situation?
Moral relativity—that passive aggressive city stuff—
becoming history quicker than you can blink at me.
Rule 1: Protect yourself at all times.
Rule 2: Always end but never start a fight.
Came up in the era of the hand-to-hand scrapping
’til the drugs happened, now it’s bloodshed at transactions.
I’m calling time out like Samuel L. Jackson
playing DJ Love Daddy with the African medallion.
Tryin’a do the right thing. I don’t have the answers,
but neither does a person who practices double standards.
If every death’s a tragedy then join us when we’re chanting,
and not just when we’re singing and dancing.64
Sociopolitical statements in rhyme form by hip-hop artists were not a new thing, except on the op-ed page of Seattle’s oldest newspaper. The willingness of a traditional institution like the Times to publish such a nontraditional editorial was a different look for hip hop in Seattle. Similar to the Legacy of Seattle Hip-Hop exhibit at MOHAI and hip hop being the cultural focus at the Folklife Festival in 2015, the op-ed piece signaled increasing acceptance of hip hop by the local mainstream. This level of recognition by the Seattle Times came around the same time as two enormous statewide political events with hip-hop connections.
Landmark Legislation and Anniversaries
The elections of November 2012 were historic, both nationally and locally. Barack Obama, the country’s first African American president, earned a second term over Republican challenger Mitt Romney, winning Washington State by a wide margin. Locally, the passage of two measures in particular reflected evolving norms that placed Washington at the forefront of the cultural curve. Referendum 74 legalized same-sex marriage in the state and rode Macklemore’s “Same Love” as a theme to victory. The other was Initiative 502, which would “license and regulate marijuana production, distribution, and possession for persons over 21. It would tax marijuana sales and earmark marijuana-related revenues. The new tightly regulated and licensed system would be similar to those used to control alcohol.” 65
Once ratified, Washington joined Colorado as the only two states in the country to sell recreational marijuana legally. Before this, the high-quality reputation of Northwest cannabis had already been embraced and celebrated by the local hip-hop community. Examples extend from a song like “Sunshine” by D.M.S. to Nacho Picasso’s Blunt Raps album to the Stay-High Brothers, aka Vitamin D and Maineak B. This open-minded stance on same-sex marriage and legalization of marijuana, issues considered controversial in other parts of the country, further solidified Seattle’s progressive reputation. In Washington the voting power of the greater Seattle-Tacoma metro region was enough to overcome the accumulation of more conservative smaller cities and rural communities, particularly in the eastern part of the state. A by-product of this mindset has been hip hop’s consistent willingness to serve the scene on various levels.
While most hip hop–related community service was grassroots in nature, sometimes it came from the framework of media. By the time Larry Mizell Jr.’s “My Philosophy” in The Stranger celebrated its tenth anniversary in 2014, the column had become a local hip-hop fixture. In terms of its tenure, the column stood alone in the history of covering the Seattle hip-hop scene. Mizell remained remarkably consistent since he came in following the departure of Sam Chesneau and the Dan Savage fiasco. After taking over in July 2004, Mizell posted twenty-five columns for the remainder of the year, and wrote at least fifty columns every year between 2005 and 2014. Aside from Shockmaster Glen Boyd in the 1980s, no other writer has documented the Seattle hip-hop landscape more thoroughly over a longer period than Mizell. A performer and manager himself, Mizell dealt with the inevitable conflicts of interest that face someone who covers a scene in which they also participate.
“I have mixed feelings about mine still being the name at the top of this column, to be honest. Integrity is very important to me—and in my eyes, this particular soapbox carries some responsibility to a deep and once-underserved community of artists,” Mizell reflected. He wondered if he was doing the scene a disservice by not moving on and letting someone else’s point of view take over the column. “A decade down the line, I’m a walking conflict of interest,” he wrote. “Stewarding not just this but other things, among them a radio show and the interests of the artists I help manage (who are some of the best in these Northwest states, and who I’ve always advocated for), but I try my best to be transparent about all of it.” 66
Hip hop’s increasing maturity in the Northwest remained strengthened by dedicated and consistent media coverage, which over the decade had helped provide foundations for success. The development of this scene received the support of extended community activity. 206 Zulu celebrated its own decade of service on Valentine’s Day weekend 2014. All programming took place at 206 Zulu’s headquarters, in historic Washington Hall on 14th Avenue in the Central District, and featured three days of “true school hip-hop.” Zulu Nation founder Afrika Bambaataa and Bay Area–based world champion DJ Qbert hosted the opening ceremonies. Other events included a three-on-three b-boy/b-girl battle with a $1,000 cash prize and performances by Los Angeles artist Rass Kass and numerous other MCs and DJs. The event culminated with a free “Meeting of the Minds” community forum and potluck.67
The anniversary produced a nineteen-track compilation album featuring such local artists as Specs Wizard, Gabriel Teodros, Derrick X aka Silver Shadow D, Orbitron, Sista Hailstorm, and Julie C. This practice of compilation albums persisted despite point number seven from Strath Shepard’s 1997 piece in The Rocket titled “Moving Seattle Hip-Hop Forward: Ten Points of Light.” Shepard wrote: “No more compilations. People don’t buy compilations because they tend to be overwhelming for press and radio and often don’t get the attention they deserve.” After nearly two decades, however, the community-centric spirit around local hip hop remained.
Immigration and Seattle Hip Hop
The Macklemore era brought renewed attention to Seattle hip hop on multiple levels. Making the transition from local artist to being internationally recognized has potential ripple effects not only for a newly famous artist but for the scene they came from. Many events helped push the hip-hop community forward in Seattle: the immigrant experience, national outlets ranking local talent, continued female influence, an up-and-comer on Sub Pop Records, a historic and semicontroversial connection between Sir Mix-A-Lot’s and the Seattle Symphony, and a critical read on gentrification in the Central District. As immigration from Asian and Pacific Island countries shaped the historical ethnic makeup of Seattle, so did the more recent arrival of those from Africa. During the 1960s and 1970s a handful of African-born immigrants settled in the Northwest. In 1858 it was Manuel Lopes, a native of the Cape Verde Islands off the West Coast of Africa who became Seattle’s first Black resident. As time passed, new residents arrived from eastern and southern African countries such as Kenya, Tanzania, Uganda, and Zimbabwe. Dumisani “Dumi” Maraire arrived at the University of Washington as an artist-in-residence in 1968. The native of Zimbabwe taught ethnomusicology courses on campus and marimba and mbira classes in the community. Dumi Sr.’s sons Tendai (of Shabazz Palaces) and Dumi Jr. (aka “Draze’s” group CAVE), along with brothers Gathigi and Njuguna Gishuru of The Physics, helped bring some African flavor to Seattle hip hop.68
Local immigration patterns increased during the 1980s and 1990s in large part because of political crises, civil wars, and widespread drought and resulting famine around the Horn of Africa. This brought greater numbers of African immigrants to the Pacific Northwest, seeking the opportunity for a better life. By 2008 an estimated twenty-three thousand Eritreans, Ethiopians, Kenyans, Somalis, Sudanese, and Ugandans called King County home. Almost as many African immigrants resided in King County in 2008 as the total Black population of the county in 1960. Indications of this presence were found in the form of mosques, markets, and restaurants primarily in the Central District and the Rainier Valley. Suburban towns such as Tukwila and Sea-Tac also had high concentrations of Somalis, but almost every community in King County had some East Africans or their descendants among their residents. East African children comprised a high percentage of Black students in the county’s public schools. Community-based support agencies such as the Refugee Federation Service Center and the Refugee Women’s Alliance continue to provide valuable services for people upon arriving in the United States for the first time.69
Members of these local communities began to use the lens of hip hop to express themselves. One example was the local hip-hop hotspot Hidmo restaurant, opened by sisters Asmeret and Rahwa Habte in 2006. Another was the Somali-American group Malitia Malimob (Chino’o and Krown) and their 2012 debut album Riots of the Pirates. Larry Mizell Jr. encouraged listeners to “peep the uncut perspective of these young, street-active Somali cats over beats that are at once riotously trill, deep, and ancient-sounding.” The album’s name played on something that Somalia had become known for in the 2000s—the seizure of foreign containerships by Somali pirates for ransom in the Indian Ocean off of Africa’s East Coast. This phenomenon was dramatized in the 2013 film Captain Phillips, starring Tom Hanks. “Also on this show is Malitia Malimob, Seattle’s own amped-up Somali American headbussas,” Mizell reported. “On their new Riots of the Pirates, they have a unique and coherent take on aggressive trap braggadocio, evoking the brutal imagery of the Somali pirate much like U.S.-born street rappers have invoked mob figures.” 70 The group’s outlook and message evolved over time, moving away from the stereotypical hardcore visual approach of champagne and cars. According to Chino’o, “This whole thing is really about us doing our part for our country, for our community. Really we plan on being activists, not just rappers. We’re African. We’re proud.” 71 Artists like Malitia Malimob highlighted the diverse perspectives that emerged from Seattle hip hop. Coverage of these perspectives was carried on various homegrown media platforms, from The Stranger column “My Philosophy” to Hip-Hop 101 TV to the website MissCaseyCarter.com, which remained active and community-focused. However, after the global success of Macklemore, national media weighed in on the local scene. In June 2013, New York–based XXL magazine released what it called a “New New” list of “15 Seattle Rappers You Should Know.” The magazine prefaced the list by saying, “With the New New, XXL tries to spotlight burgeoning acts who we feel haven’t gotten the shine they deserve, but what makes this edition special is that we feel the entire city of Seattle hasn’t gotten the attention it deserves.” The featured artists were Avatar Darko, Black Stax, Brothers from Another, Champagne Champagne, Eighty4Fly, Fatal Lucciauno, Fresh Espresso, J.Pinder, Jarv Dee, Kung Foo Grip, Mack E, Nacho Picasso, Sam Lachow, Shelton Harris, Sol, and Thaddeus David.72
Although the list shined a light on Seattle hip hop, it also produced some hard feelings and revived criticisms within the local scene. Silas Blak of Black Stax went so far as to say, “You know, I almost kind of wish I wasn’t on the list—you won’t believe the kind of hate that’s out there. It’s more trouble than it’s worth.” Reacting to Blak’s reaction, Charles Mudede wrote: “Blak is profoundly intelligent, intensely sensitive, very perceptive, and generally positive. So to see him all down like this about a great piece of publicity for his crew meant that things were really, really rotten in Denmark.” He added: “I later even heard someone, who will remain unnamed, state that Black Stax made the list because their trumpeter, Owuor Arunga, tours with Macklemore.” Local producer Rob Castro commented: “Macklemore and that XXL article is making people crazy. It doesn’t say anything about Seattle but what the industry thinks about Seattle. There is this rapper I know and really respect, but I had to yell at him to stop talking about that list. IT’S JUST A FUCKING LIST!” Mudede was struck by one post in particular as he viewed the comments section of the article online, which read: “If you ever wondered why Seattle rarely gets national attention for hip hop—scroll down and watch the crabs in the bucket.”73
The national spotlight shone again in December 2013, when XXL published another list, “15 Female Rappers You Should Know,” which included Seattle’s Gifted Gab of Moor Gang. The magazine said that Gifted Gab had an “aged, classic-hip hop flow,” similar to the New York sound of classic female lyricists like Queen Latifah. “Repping Moor Gang, Gifted Gab seems serious about putting the Northwest on the hip-hop map, crafting an impressionable image with her non-chalant flow yet hard-hitting lyrics,” XXL wrote. “With her self-touted title ‘Queen LaChiefa,’ which is also the title of her latest EP, Gifted Gab carries a sound that has the potential to contribute to, or even spurn, a new age of quality female lyricism in the industry.” 74
More national attention for Gab followed when Time magazine included her in a 2014 article titled “The 7 Female Rappers You Should Be Listening to Right Now.” After concluding that Macklemore and Ryan Lewis had “finally made people pay attention to the Northwest’s hip-hop scene,” groups like Common Market, Nacho Picasso, Blue Scholars, and Moor Gang “have all been working in the city’s rap trenches for years. In their ranks is Gifted Gab, a Seattle rapper, with a throwback flow and a way with words. She has made no secret of the fact that Queen Latifah is her biggest inspiration—in fact, she named her debut album Queen La’Chiefah.” 75
Local praise for Gab was present as well. “Her excellently titled [EP] Queen La’Chiefah . . . harks back to the ’90s heyday of cold females on the mic via the name and the cover (a take on Queen La’s [1991 album] Nature of a Sista’). Gifted Gab has widely been regarded as one of the best female rappers from this corner of the country. The fact is Gab isn’t just one of the best female rappers in the NW, she’s one of its best rappers, period,” wrote Larry Mizell Jr. “Gab’s a classic: a boys-club-proven, boom-bap-devouring devotee of real rap’s hoodies-and-Timbs heyday—and a real woman reflecting on weak dudes in the rearview. Not exactly as concerned with sexism as Dana [Queen Latifah] Owens, Gab has her own pimpish West Coast twist to the blueprint.” 76
Porter Ray on Sub Pop and Classical Sir Mix-A-Lot
The flurry of sudden and intense national attention on the local scene brought with it both positive and negative dynamics. Similar to the aftermath following Nirvana’s rise in the 1990s, the search for up-and-coming talent in the post-Macklemore era was ongoing. In this climate another talented local MC, one mentored by a hip-hop elder, earned recognition. Although Porter Ray Sullivan flirted with poetry and MCing during his high school years, it was not until 2009 when his younger brother was murdered that he looked to music as a serious expressive outlet. By the time his debut mixtape BLK GLD was released in 2013, Porter Ray had created substantial underground buzz. As Larry Mizell wrote in The Stranger: “Porter had low-key become the prince of the city in reputation but hadn’t released a damn thing—and, by my count, had played all of one show.”
After one listen, Mizell labeled BLK GLD a classic local debut that “more than lives up to the considerable hype placed on his name’s shoulders. Porter is a classically gifted master of poetic, slick shit—no hyperbole meant, but my first instinct was to compare his ice-water style to that of Nas and Reasonable Doubt–era Jay[-Z].” Hyperbole, whether intended or not, seemed inevitable when drawing parallels between a new local artist and an international superstar like Jay-Z. Still, the comparison included thoughtful analysis. “Unlike most young heads looking to evoke their titanic cool, however, he never gets lost in a wordy haze. Even more important to his appeal, he at times kicks perfectly gameful bars for ladies without having to resort to basic-ass Drake-isms,” Mizell observed. “What we appear to have in Mr. Ray is an MC of rare sensitivity, deftness, and subtlety—and I for one am damned excited to see what it is he does next.” 77
Porter Ray released two more mixtapes in 2013—WHT GLD and RSE GLD. He received greater exposure, such as an in-studio interview and performance on KEXP’s show Street Sounds as well as a City Arts magazine article naming WHT GLD/RSE GLD as its album of the month for August. “He writes with rare selflessness, equally comfortable as narrator, protagonist and side character. Ray stacks active-verb snapshots to form a wide-angle view of the early-onset adulthood facing him and his peers,” wrote music critic Clayton Holman. “His firmly structured flow is more vehicle than destination, its strong, consistent template allowing space for narrative detail. Here and elsewhere, Ray’s concern for his people is fluid, expressed through dialogue and observation. He doesn’t moralize; he relates.” 78
Porter Ray’s rising star and association with Seattle super producer Jake One led to an offer from industry giant Interscope Records in late 2013, which Porter declined. Digable Planets and Shabazz Palaces cofounder Ishmael Butler had become an A&R (artist and repertoire) at Sub Pop Records in 2013. Butler made Porter Ray his first signee to Sub Pop in May 2014. While working on his debut album Watercolor for Sub Pop, Porter Ray released a digital album called Fundamentals in 2014.
With artists like Porter Ray representing new generations of local hip hop, one artist who represented the first generation continued to earn attention. Sir Mix-A-Lot assumed a hip-hop emeritus status of sorts, not necessarily recording new music but still making occasional appearances within popular culture, both locally and nationally. In June 2014 the Seattle Symphony’s Sonic Evolution program featured original works by young composers based on local blues, rock, or hip hop. Past installments of Sonic Evolution had been inspired by Jimi Hendrix, Kurt Cobain, and Quincy Jones.79 For this edition three original compositions were premiered: “FrisLand” by Luis Tinoco based on jazz guitarist Bill Frisell, “Hundred Heads” by Du Yun based on singer/songwriter Ray Charles, and “Dial 1-900 Mix-A-Lot” by Gabriel Prokofiev.
Following Prokofiev’s piece, Sir Mix-A-Lot himself made his way to the stage of regal Benaroya Hall, home of the Seattle Symphony. He performed “Posse on Broadway” with symphony accompaniment, followed by a rendition of his Grammy Award–winning classic “Baby Got Back.” Charles Cross in the Seattle Times described the event this way: “Before Friday night’s ‘Sonic Evolution’ program, I’d never seen 40 women jump onstage in front of the symphony—at Sir Mix-A-Lot’s invitation—and shake their butts for 10 minutes to the sounds of hip-hop. It was an explosion of raucous energy unlike any symphony program at Benaroya before.” He continued: “Mix asked if ‘a couple’ of ladies could help him out. Soon the stage was quickly mobbed and the symphony hidden, and a party started. Yet for everyone at Friday’s concert—new to Benaroya, patrons, or old vets—it was a night to celebrate. ‘Tell ’em to shake it,’ Mix-A-Lot urged.” 80
A video of the performance posted on YouTube went viral, amassing more than eight million views. Despite the national buzz, some in the world of classical music were unimpressed. In his review of the show for the New York Times, James R. Oestreich wrote: “I won’t presume to review things so far outside my ken as Sir Mix-A-Lot. But I am left to wonder what a symphony orchestra can meaningfully add to this kind of repertory, notwithstanding Gabriel Prokofiev’s rudimentary orchestrations here.” 81
Among other things, Sir Mix-A-Lot represented the long tradition of hip-hop artists making songs about their hometown, which dates back to the beginning of the hip-hop culture. Locally this practice took a decidedly sociological turn with a musical examination of a specific neighborhood: the Central District. Major changes to the CD as the seat of Seattle’s Black community ironically enough could be traced to the “open housing” movement pushed by local civil rights groups. The Seattle City Council passed the ordinance on April 19, 1968, just fifteen days after Dr. Martin Luther King’s assassination in Memphis. While open housing made it possible for African Americans to move wherever they wanted, it also contributed to the eventual fragmentation of the Black community, primarily toward South Seattle and outlying cities farther south such as Renton, Kent, Auburn, and Federal Way. Meanwhile, the 1980s and 1990s saw a steep increase in CD property values, which meant a corresponding rise in property taxes.82
Dumi “Draze” Maraire Jr. released the single and video “The Hood Ain’t the Same” in 2014, which addressed gentrification in the CD. Shot around the Central District and the south end, the lyrics and images focused on historic people and places that traditionally marked Seattle’s Black community. For instance, the building that for decades was the home of The Facts, Seattle’s oldest Black newspaper founded in 1961 by Fitzgerald Beaver, located on the corner of Martin Luther King Way and Cherry Street, had turned into a dog daycare and groomer. Also highlighted was the phenomenon of longtime residents who wished to remain in the community, but the sudden steep increase in property values made paying the taxes on their homes nearly impossible on a fixed income.83
Food and Local Hip Hop
Hip hop’s interdisciplinary style had always allowed, and even encouraged, the building of bridges within its surroundings. Relationships developed naturally as the culture and its participants found ways to make meaning of their environment. Some unique local trends that emerged from these dynamics were around Seattle hip hop’s connection with food, its link to sports, and the inevitable impact of the next generation. The term “flavor” has long been slang within hip hop equating to “style” or “swag,” and that was the name of the Seattle-based hip hop magazine published between 1992 and 1996. Over the years, local artists such as Vitamin D symbolically played on this connection by releasing mixtapes with names like Table Manners, Table Manners 2, and Hip-Hop Kitchen, which included the original song “Local Produce.” 84 DJ100proof produced the mixtape series Backyard BBQ, and the Blue Scholars (“Fou Lee”) and Amos Miller (“Roger’s Thriftway”) have released songs about specific local grocery stores.85
Some artists moved beyond symbolism and into actual culinary creation. Hillside Quickie’s Vegan Sandwich Shop in the University District, managed by local artist Ayinde Howell and his sister Afi, was known as Seattle’s only health-conscious hip hop–oriented deli. With items like the Crazy Jamaican Burger, the New York Deli Tofu Sub, and Tempehestrami TLT, Hillside Quickie’s fell within the realm of “progressive” hip hop. Some of the more well-known customers included Philadelphia hip-hop band The Roots, slam poet Saul Williams, R&B superstar Erykah Badu, and Source of Labor. As Charles Mudede wrote in The Stranger, “This is not the sort of place that 50 Cent or Memphis Bleek would much care for; the break from the conventional American foods is too extreme—and as a consequence not macho enough—for their gangsta temperaments.” 86 This animal-free approach was complemented by the Seattle chapter of Hip-Hop Is Green, an organization founded by Keith Tucker that hosted community vegan dinners and promoted health and wellness resources.
Seattle artist DT, or Deep Thoughts, was known as the Thuggin Chef. He produced cooking videos on YouTube, featuring dishes such as herb-crusted halibut, paprika fried chicken, and shitake mushroom and green pea risotto pancakes. Along with other recipe suggestions, the Thuggin Chef provided restaurant reviews for different types of food establishments all over the city.87 Jimaine “Maineak B” Miller went by the title Def Chef. He served chicken and waffles, tacos, pies, and meat turnovers direct to customers through orders placed by email and through social media. Evidence of Def Chef was on display in the video for the song “Home” by Jake One as Miller delivered his verse from behind a smoking barbeque grill. Other examples included musician and producer Bubba Jones, owner of the highly popular Jones Barbeque in South Seattle, and longtime rapper Jeremy “Jerm” DuBois, whose Mattie Bell Catering Company features family recipes developed over generations. Silas Blak of Silent Lambs Project and Black Stax served as a chef at the Kingfish Café, the landmark soul food restaurant in the Central District that opened in 1997. Picking up on the rapidly growing trend of mobile eats, poet and painter Jesse “Akil” Lee came up with the My Sweet Lil Cakes truck, which served hotcakes on a stick, filled with fruits, vegetables, meats, or cheeses, along with custom dipping sauces.88
George “Geologic” Quibuyen, also known as Prometheus Brown, remained musically active in 2014, joining Los Angeles–based fellow Filipino-American rapper Bambu to form The Bar and release their album Barkada. Quibuyen and his wife, Chera Amlag, started a monthly restaurant pop-up featuring Filipino cuisine called Food and Sh*t. Food and Sh*t was hosted at Inay’s, a Filipino restaurant in the Beacon Hill neighborhood.89 Quibuyen and Amlag combined traditional with nontraditional to come up with dishes like pork sisig tacos, pan de sal bistek sliders, inasal chicken wings, and buko pandan cheesecake. Food and Sh*t was at the center of what Seattle magazine called a rising “Filipino food movement” in the area.90
Seahawks, the Super Bowl, and the Younger Generations Making Moves
Although the combination of hip hop and food seemed to be a relatively recent trend, the intersection of hip hop and sports was not. Sir Mix-A-Lot’s “Not in Our House,” Kid Sensation and Ken Griffey Jr.’s “The Way I Swing,” and Gary Payton’s “Livin Legal & Large” were all local examples of this relationship from the 1990s. When the Seattle Seahawks rose to prominence as a National Football League power in the 2010s, the names of such players as quarterback Russell Wilson, the “Legion of Boom” with defensive backs Richard Sherman, Earl Thomas, and Kam Chancellor, and wide receiver Doug Baldwin all became trending topics in various aspects of popular culture. The most polarizing figure of the Seahawk’s back-to-back Super Bowl appearances of 2014 and 2015 was running back Marshawn Lynch. Famous for his fearless, bruising running style, Lynch was a favorite of the notably loud Seattle fan base known as the “12s,” a representation of fans as a “12th” player on the field during a game. One of the biggest storylines in the days leading up to both Super Bowls was the conflict between Marshawn Lynch and the massive amounts of media from around the world on hand to cover the event.
As part of the collective bargaining agreement between the NFL players’ union and team owners, all players were required to be available to the media after games. Lynch’s sometimes adversarial relationship with reporters often led him to respond to every question with the same answer. In the lead-up to the Seahawks Super Bowl XLVIII 43–8 victory on February 2, 2014, over the Denver Broncos in East Rutherford, New Jersey, much was made of the friction between Lynch and the media. Pro Football Hall of Famer and NFL Network personality Deion Sanders spoke with Lynch during Super Bowl media day, asking Lynch about speaking to the media. Lynch’s response—“I’m just ’bout that action, boss”—spread across social media, and within days several versions of songs and remixes sampling the line had sprung up on YouTube.91 The scenario repeated itself in the lead-up to Super Bowl XLIX on February 1, 2015, against the New England Patriots. Lynch, who had been fined $100,000 earlier in the season for not speaking with reporters after a game, showed up to required Super Bowl media events and answered every question by simply saying, “I’m just here so I don’t get fined” and “You know why I’m here.” Again, Seattle’s hip-hop community posted tracks and remixes based on Lynch’s responses, this time with the title “Thanks for Asking (So I Won’t Get Fined).” 92
Following Seattle’s first Super Bowl championship, the city threw a downtown parade for the Seahawks on February 4, 2014. Of the more than 750,000 people who turned out to celebrate, a good number of them gathered at Westlake Park, where DV One, the team’s official DJ, rocked the crowd from atop the Westlake Mall. Supreme also collaborated in playing alongside DV One at the parade, which will arguably go down as the biggest party in Washington State history. Although the prestigious, shiny world of professional sports has had a long relationship with local hip hop, youth have always been the lifeblood of the culture. The spread and accessibility of hip hop has meant more opportunities for newer generations of young people to engage on various levels. One example was local b-boy Jalen “Jstyles” Testerman. Born in 2001, Jstyles became interested in dancing while watching the 2004 dance film You Got Served. His skill led to performances at Seattle SuperSonics games; guest spots on the Maury Povich, Oprah Winfrey, and Ellen DeGeneres shows; television appearances on Nickelodeon and reality shows Live to Dance and Dance Moms (Season 3); as well as movie roles in the films Step Up 3D (2010) and Jack and Jill (2011).93 It is telling that local young people like Jstyles were able to find personal entry points into hip-hop culture through elements besides MCing. Another instance of this was Lenox “Yung Lenox” Buringrud. Born in 2007, Lenox became a nationally recognized artist from Seattle who drew old school rap album covers after being introduced to them by his father Skip “Skip Class” Buringrud.94 Lenox’s father posted Yung Lenox’s drawings on Instagram, which eventually landed Lenox a spot in the 2013 Frieze Week art fair in New York City.95
Yung Lenox frequently drew his own versions of classics like the cover for Wu-Tang Clan member Raekwon’s debut album Only Built For Cuban Lynx (1995). Jenson Karp, owner of Gallery 1988 West in Los Angeles, held a 2014 showing of Yung Lenox’s work titled L.A.’s Most Wanted. “Raekwon vividly talks about drug sales and violence on his classic first solo album,” Karp said, “and to see the cover redrawn in a childlike, coloring-book style—no matter the age—it’s an ironic take on something so iconic in the minds of my generation.” 96 Yung Lenox’s work included albums by Tupac, NWA and Ice Cube, and he has drawn the attention of rap artists such as Ultramagnetic MCs member Kool Keith, Raekwon, and Cam’ron. A Kickstarter campaign raised more than $17,000 to fund a documentary film about Yung Lenox, Live Fast Draw Yung.97
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Macklemore and Ryan Lewis’s four-trophy triumph at the 2014 Grammy Awards was arguably one of the most significant moments in Seattle’s cultural history. General community expectations that accompanied this level of success within hip hop have traditionally included the idea that the bright lights focused on Macklemore and Ryan Lewis would bring shine to others within the scene. Expectations were that the duo would use their status to help facilitate the development of local artists and their projects. Past examples of this ethos have been the Sir Mix-A-Lot–produced compilation album Seattle . . . The Darkside in 1993 and more recently Ishmael Butler’s mentorship of Porter Ray.
At the grassroots end of the spectrum, social action and commentary remained key elements around the scene. Wyking Garrett’s involvement in Africatown strove to preserve historical aspects as well as build up Seattle’s African American community in the Central District, while Draze followed up “The Hood Ain’t the Same” with “Irony on 23rd,” which commented on the presence of a white-owned marijuana dispensary located at the corner of Twenty-third Avenue and Union Street in the Central District. The irony lay in the fact that for decades, numerous people of color—and African Americans specifically—were arrested all around this same corner and taken to jail for selling, among other things, marijuana. However, as it had in the past, the story of local hip hop always circled back to the youth. The breaking of JStyles, which symbolized multiple generations of hip-hop dance in Seattle, has been seen in several movies and television shows. The visual arts of Yung Lenox represented his crayon-rendered version of numerous classic hip-hop album covers that were released well before he was born. While rap music traditionally remained the most popular route to hip-hop engagement, decades of growth and development within the scene created sustained spaces for alternative paths. It is examples like these, and countless others over some forty years, that demonstrate how each new generation consumes and reinterprets not just local hip-hop culture but overall Seattle culture as well.