What really makes a rapper great?

After making the classic rookie mistake of logging onto Rap Twitter the other day, I was reminded of the absolute disparity that exists with how fans and insufferable Please Follow My Account types judge ‘good rapping’. There seems to be three main schools of thought here:

1. Punchlines and multi-syllable verbal gymnastics are the apex of the form, so the likes of Big Pun, Jadakiss, Black Thought and Eminem are the standard bearers.

2. Nonchalent coolness, sprinkled with obscure subliminals that can keep Rap Game Columbo’s busy for weeks and make the listener feel they’re in on a private joke, is the epitome. This is Biggie/Jay-Z/Pusha-T/Nas/Drake territory.

3. Deep thinkers are everything, only true intellectuals can appreciate the genius of Rakim, Common, Lupe Fiasco or Kendrick Lamar.

Allow me to add two more important categories for your consideration:

4. Keep it simple, dummies! Having a powerful vocal presence trumps microphone trickery. This is the GURU/50 Cent/Group Home/Beatnuts tier.

5. Mentalists rule. Nothing beats hearing what kind of wild-ass shit they might say next. This is the domain of Ol’ Dirty, Kanye, Danny Brown, Ghostface and Biz Markie.

While there can be some crossover between these categories (Tupac qualifies for most of these) I propose that all future discourse on these matters should be sorted out according to the appropriate league/division…on second thought, actually creating said table sounds about as much fun as chewing on a cereal box. This is really just a roundabout way of me saying that MC Shan > Canibus.

Rap is a sport, in that every rapper is competing for our attention and must hone their skills to the point where they stand-out from the pack. But in terms of calculating statistics and averages to determine who ranks where? In that sense, rap is not a sport at all. Rap ability cannot be quantified the way it is for cricket, baseball or golf. There have been many brave attempts to create a formula to determine this, dating back to Kool Moe Dee’s Rapper Report Card and carried on by magazines and websites.  I even attempted to use this formula back in 2015, and the winner was Chuck D.

The folly in all of this was brought into stark contrast recently, when I listened to every Ice-T album over the course of a day and was reminded that Ice-T effin’ rules. The Iceberg’s strengths lie in his knack for storytelling, his twisted sense of humour and ability to create memorable, complete songs with a strong theme and purpose. Using the KMD Rapper Report Card scoring system, let’s see how T. Marrow holds up:

Vocabulary: 8, Articulation: 9, Creativity: 10, Originality: 10, Versatility:7, Voice: 9, Records: 10, Stage Presence: 9, Sticking to Themes: 10, Innovating Rhythms: 8. Total : 90 (A).

Once again, since the categories seem to blend into each other, this isn’t a very accurate measure of how enjoyable the music of the former husband of Syndicate Queen Darlene really is. Even if you remove the beats altogether (which makes even less sense because who cares about rapping without music?), this guy’s stuff still rocks. He immediately recognised the importance of making dumb, loud rap records that kids could relate to, and went on to make some not dumb, loud rap records as well.

The common thread shared between great rappers who fall outside of the GOAT MC metric is the convincing way that they sell the listener on the character they’ve created, to the degree where it’s captivating regardless of how ‘good’ the rapping may be to the Rap Statistician community. In short, if you cannot appreciate the experience of hearing Greg Nice, Iman THUG or Big Noyd unleashing riddles that rhyme over some loud drums, then maybe this rap stuff just isn’t your bag, pal.