It’s hard to believe hip-hop was once the red-headed stepchild of jazz and soul. Purists complained the genre was a crude regurgitation of its predecessors over a break beat, but 50 years later, a once misunderstood genre is now Big Brother—omnipresent in virtually all corners of society.
But now trap and drill—the little brothers of hip-hop that are a little rough around the edges—are receiving the purist treatment. The subgenres feel like scapegoats of what’s wrong with hip-hop.
B. Lovee, an artist and wellness advocate from Richmond’s Southside, is frustrated by older folks and artists who look down their noses at the youth for the music they create.
“An elder is somebody who’s going to give back the knowledge,” he retorted. “An older is just somebody who’s just going to judge, hoard and be a gatekeeper. We are just a product of the generation before—not taking responsibility and accountability and coming back and cleaning up the messes they made.”
Big Sty, a respected MC who has been rapping since the ‘80s, is the definition of an elder.
“I give them any advice that I can give—any connects or outlets,” he said. “I plug people into certain people so that they can connect and help each other grow.”
Since its inception, hip-hop has been a reflection of the times and community.
“Hip-hop was on some artistic journalism vibes—telling the stories of the time, telling the stories of the culture,” B. Lovee added. “Now you look at drill and trap, that’s the stories of the culture right now.”
Violence is the lightning rod for conversations surrounding hip-hop. Yes, it is in the lyrics, music videos and unfortunately, it occasionally boils over into the streets, but drill and trap aren’t phenomenons. The frequency at which we’re seeing the subgenres’ imagery and rising stars’ untimely deaths via social media is. It makes critics believe more young people are dying than ever before because of violent music. This isn’t the case—it’s just being recorded.
Southside community activist and artist Zenobia Bey empathizes with the neighborhood’s young artists.
“They’re definitely misunderstood,” she said. “When people aren’t taking time to listen or they do take time to listen but they want to support in a way they feel that they need support, without listening to the actual people, that’s when it becomes a problem.”
Historically speaking, the Southside of towns and cities are the most impoverished and dilapidated. This is often a result of prejudiced redistricting and annexations, major highways slicing through neighborhoods and a lack of socioeconomic investment in the community. All the above has impacted Richmond’s Southside and its other neighborhoods as well. What comes from this is poor, frustrated black and brown folks looking for outlets to distract themselves from the unethical blows the city has dealt for several generations.
“There’s a lot of resiliency in the people of Southside,” Bey said. “Richmond was the capital of the Confederacy. Look at the demographics and the geographics of how Southside is—how it was built and formed.”
What was happening in Richmond mirrored what was happening in New York, the birthplace of hip-hop; the same socioeconomic obstacles thrust the city’s predominantly Black and Brown areas into financial ruin. But, time and time again, marginalized folks always make lemonade out of life’s lemons. From the shroud of grief and despair emerged what would later become the most influential genre of all-time.
In the ‘80s, the budding roses in Southside’s concrete were beginning to bloom and start Richmond’s ascension to hip-hop notoriety. One of the biggest contributors to jumpstarting Southside’s music scene was the late August Moon. The multi-hyphenate, raised in Blackwell Bottom, owned several properties along Hull Street. The most notable was his multipurpose recording studio.
“He created a space for cultural expression,” said Enjoli Moon—one of Moon’s daughters—who is the founder of Afrikana Film Festival and co-founder of The JXN Project. “The seed that was planted was having our own and creating our own spaces for us to invite folks in to be able to share, create and produce their work.”
He formed two record labels—Style and Urban Beat—which housed local artists Mahogany, Cool Carl, MC Rockwale and Cooley-Tee, among others. The last two artists—a Northside and Southside native respectively—are credited with releasing one the first rap songs played on Richmond radio.
MC Rockwale spoke highly of August Moon’s character and vision for Richmond music’s scene.
“He never wanted to be limited to just Virginia,” he said. “He was trying to make Richmond another Motown and he did it all with his own money.”
Moon would later co-produce “Seven Minutes of Funk” with local performer Tyrone Thomas, which would later become a foundational sample for recordings beyond the city limits. Grandmaster Flash, Kurtis Blow, Wu-Tang Clan, Coolio, Redman, Jay Z, Faith Evans, Jodeci and EPMD are some of the artists who’ve sampled the record.
WKIE, a local AM station nestled on Wilkinson Road in Northside, was also instrumental in elevating hip-hop in the city. Mikki Spencer, who served as program director (she was the station’s first Black female program director) at the time, understood the impact hip-hop could potentially have on the station’s younger audience.
“We were a daytime station, sun up to sundown,” Spencer stated in a WRIC 8 article. “We couldn’t really compete [with FM radio].”
The move was a high risk, but the reward paid great dividends. In addition to playing Richmond hip-hop records, WKIE played out-of-towner ones too. Within months, hip-hop legends such as LL Cool J, Eric B. & Rakim, Kool Moe Dee and Public Enemy caught wind of what the modest station was doing and visited during their tour runs.
“If it wasn’t for her programming that station, I think hip-hop would be five to six years further down the line than it was,” local DJ and radio personality Mike Street declared during a recent hip-hop panel at the Black History Museum and Cultural Center of Virginia.
The station’s buzz contributed to bringing one of the first rap concerts to the city—the legendary 1984 “Fresh Fest,” which featured Run-DMC, Kurtis Blow, Whodini, the Fat Boys and Newcleus.
From there, hip-hop evolved and welcomed a new class of MCs in the ‘90s—the golden era of hip-hop. During this era, local hip-hop legend Mad Skillz became a beacon for Richmond hip-hop upon the release of his debut album, From Where???. Southside’s own Lonnie B was a standout on the album, which he credits for changing his life. It led him to collaborating and building relationships with the likes of the late J. Dilla, DJ Clark Kent and Kid Capri, among countless others. He also performed with Mad Skillz alongside the late R&B songstress Aaliyah.
Lonnie B and Mad Skillz teamed up with fellow Richmond MC Danja Mowf to create the Supafriendz. The faction later evolved from a rap group into a posse of local creatives, which includes Kelli Lemon, a respected socialite and owner of Urban Hang Suite.
Southside hip-hop elder statesman Roctagis credits the moves Lonnie and the Supafriendz have made—such as creating The Art of Noise, arguably the best music party in the city—has established them as “monuments for the Southside.”
Lonnie B would go on to be a massive inspiration for the next class of Southside MCs: Nickelus F, Radio B, Michael Millions, Cole Hicks, Illa Styles and Junnie Mac, to name a few. This generation of artists placed a premium on lyricism, which was largely absent in the glossy, snap music era of the early aughts.
Nickelus F, Radio B, Michael Millions and NameBrand—a gifted producer and Michael Millions’ younger brother—comprised the collective AGM (Association of Great Minds). Nickelus F rose to national acclaim with his historic “Freestyle Friday” run on BET’s 106 & Park. About five to ten years later, he and Radio B became friends and collaborated with then fledgling Canadian rapper Drake. Radio B went on to establish pivotal platforms for local MCs and battle rappers with RVA Rap Elite and Southpaw Battle Coalition respectively.
Rocstagis has been a proud participant in and spectator of the work AGM has done in the city.
“These guys are coming out with all types of ill styles, many different flavors and it just reminds me of the essence man,” Rocstagis said, praising the RVA Rap Elite platform. “It’s allowing space for everybody to come out and showcase their talents in a competitive way.”
Neo-soul godfather D’Angelo cleared a handful of his own samples (one of which NameBrand used to produce “Water”) at no charge to Michael Millions, which he used on his 2018 cult classic Hard to Be King. And last but not least, NameBrand created The Producer Lounge, a much-needed platform for music producers to showcase their art.
Cole Hicks rose to prominence as a teenager (her stage name at the time was Lil’ Nikki) and shared stages with Roc-A-Fella Records and Wu-Tang Clan affiliates. Despite often being the lone woman in cyphers and on show bills, Hicks quickly earned the respect of her male counterparts because of her rapping ability and stage presence, but she doesn’t jive with the patriarchal systems within hip-hop.
“This is a male dominated industry and the first thing people want to do is compare the women against each other,” she said. “Let’s compare the entire industry—lyricism for lyricism.”
Illa Styles helped sharpen the pens of a few of AGM’s members in their high school cyphers and later carved a lane for himself as a talented solo artist. Junnie Mac’s cult favorite “Booty Bounce” earned him a name in the city. He’s since transitioned to more conscious raps and his entrepreneurial spirit has inspired artists such Souf James to follow in his footsteps.
“There were people on my side that were moving like they were on,” Souf James said. “So that’s how I moved when I started my thing.”
The introduction of social media and hip-hop’s blog era created a massive shift in how artists produced and marketed their music. Labels were slowly but surely fading to the background as artists began taking a more direct-to-consumer approach. This phenomenon created a playground for Southside acts like Fly Anakin, ohbliv, FNF Chop, T.R.I.G., AYE YB and Zuri to thrive in.
Fly Anakin, who heads music collective Mutant Academy alongside fellow Southside native Henny L.O., has garnered co-signs from respected hip-hop names and platforms from across the globe. Lo-fi luminary ohbliv is a producer’s producer and a mainstay in underground hip-hop circles. In the drill and trap lane, FNF Chop (who signed with RCA last year) is leading the way alongside producer AYE YB who recently signed with Hitmaka’s Makasound Records. Introspective artists T.R.I.G. and Zuri are very respected by both their peers and older MCs.
Fly Anakin is very grateful for the stages and opportunities hip-hop has granted him and his peers.
“I’m talking to you from London right now bro,” he said during our interview with him.
From high school hallways to the radio, from bedroom studios to festival stages, hip-hop has emerged from humble beginnings and elevated to the most influential genre on Earth. But despite this, it continues to be misunderstood, mistreated and ridiculed.
This is not to say hip-hop’s participants and culture is above critique. However, nuance and grace should be applied when discussing this genre. It was birthed from a place of trauma and despair. For many, it is the only outlet for them to tell their authentic stories—which comes in many forms. At the end of the day, it is artistic expression. It’s impossible to regulate the intentions of everyone in hip-hop, but the hope is they are treating her with care.
Editor’s note: We realize we didn’t mention every single influential artist from the Southside in this article. We appreciate and honor every contribution all MCs and artists from the area—and Richmond as a whole—have made to uplift this culture.
Top photo of Radio B by Sterling Giles
