To quote the late, great Notorious B.I.G from his 1994 album Ready to Die, “Things Done Changed” when it comes to the music industry, especially where hip-hop and rap are concerned.
In fact, the ubiquitous presence of Sean “Diddy” Combs is virtually impossible for rap fans to separate from the image of their beloved “Biggie Smalls,” as B.I.G. was known to his adoring audience. In the wake of the losses of Biggie and, of course, Tupac Shakur (and many rap legends sadly to follow), one might wonder whether maybe the music industry is better off without moguls.
In the early to mid ’90s, widely considered hip-hop’s Golden Era, moguls were instrumental in setting off a beef that ended in the deaths of two of its most iconic rappers, and normalized the death of artists via murder. In fact, all of the Notorious B.I.G.’s albums were promoting, marketing, foreshadowing and ultimately profiting from the demise of the artist, who would only live to 25 years of age.
Both he and Tupac, known for his partnership with Death Row Records and the less flashy yet intimidating Suge Knight, would be murdered during the prime of their respective careers, and both continued to release music posthumously in the years following their deaths. In the case of each of these artists, the moguls tended to be just as if not more vocal than their artists on their own behalf.
Since then, hip-hop moguls have been popping up left and right over the decades. In many cases, a rapper gets signed to a label, blows up, starts his own label, and recruits other artists to sign, develop and cultivate.
Isn’t art just supposed to be art? Entertainment? What blurred the lines? With success at the music industry mogul level comes lots of money and power. Nas’ recent trilogy of albums, the phenomenal King’s Disease series, explores the mind state of someone who has achieved success in excess, leaving that person in a state of struggle between the need to show restraint vs. the lust of having whatever one wants, from whomever they choose. This disease can manifest itself in many ways and can often end in a humbling fashion if said king is ignorant or apathetic towards the reality of their situation.
In the wake of the now well-reported indictment of Combs, many music industry bigwigs have stepped down, including over 18 record company CEOs. In fact, well over 600 CEOs, record company execs and politicians have stepped down from their positions just in the first half of 2024 according to newsnationnow.com. So often we hear the story of an artist’s big break, or the moment they were discovered by some rich industry mogul.
However, with so many new technologies and of course the power and reach of social media, being discovered doesn’t seem to be as necessary in these times. With streaming services like Spotify and Apple Music, independent digital distribution houses like Distrokid, and even free music sharing platforms such as Soundcloud, artists now have more power than ever to create, distribute, and promote their own material.
Being discovered can now mean being found by new fans and not owing your whole life to one person after being promised levels of success that you may not otherwise achieve without him. There doesn’t have to be a Diddy, a Suge, Birdman, or even a record label involved in an artist’s success anymore. In other words, artists now have the power to create and manifest their own dreams, and not just have those dreams sold to them via promises that may be empty, or worse, come at devastating personal cost.
As an independent, self-sufficient artist, you probably won’t have the same visibility, but you might just make more money. After all, most record labels take the majority of the money in any deal. Even with indie labels, 50/50 on the backend, after the label recoups its initial investment, is still considered fair.
Complete ownership of something smaller may in fact be a better situation for an artist than getting crumbs from a giant entity. In the case of streaming, those crumbs are basically microscopic. Spotify streams, for example, are worth about $1 per 4,000 streams. Of that $1, Spotify keeps 30%, and of the remaining 70%, the artist’s percentage is based on whatever his deal is with the label/publisher/collaborators. As xposuremusic puts it, an artist would need more than 800,000 streams per month in order to keep pace with someone earning minimum wage full time.
New albums from icons LL Cool J, Common and Pete Rock, and perhaps most notably MC Lyte, have shown that even some of Hip-Hop’s most legendary names see themselves as finally being bigger than the imprint, or, in LL’s case, being the imprint himself. Cool J’s summer 2024 album, The Force, was released on LL Cool J, Inc. in partnership with Def Jam, the massive imprint that owes much of its success to LL’s early work as a then-teenage rap beast.
One of the hardest-hitting tracks on MC Lyte’s 1 of 1 features Ghostface and Lil’ Mama, with Ghostface wisely advising all Hip-Hop artists to “make sure you own up all your masters,” which any artist thinking long-term would be wise to attempt to achieve. Apparently, the pioneers are still innovating and sharing their wisdom to this day.
Power being returned to the artists is an essential factor in artistry being a viable career path for those who actually create art. It is easy to falsely determine that giving your art away to an already wealthy entity will put you in the exact financial situation you envisioned to go along with all the fame and attention. Oftentimes, though, the rich and powerful may see different or more things in us that they see as exploitable outside of just our talents. This is when the dark side of the music industry can rear its ugly head, and artists can become victims in ways they previously never thought of.
What’s the solution here? In my humble opinion, backed by 25 plus years of experience in the music business, my advice to any artist would be to just be your own mogul. Be happy with a larger piece of a smaller pie than you’d be taking crumbs from a bigger pie with a scoop of popularity and fame to go with it. That scoop might just be the thing that takes down an otherwise promising and potentially lucrative career. That, and be dope!
Bring your talents to their peak and become an amazing live performer so that the bookings keep coming. Then not only may you potentially still reach your artistic goals, but your dignity and your pockets may just be singing a happy tune with you.
Akrobatik is a Dorchester native, hip-hop artist, UMass Boston lecturer, and serves as artistic director at Self-Evident Education.
