Remembering Rap City
“Nas said it’s dead, I’m not gon’ say that it’s dead, but if y’all don’t take it upon yourselves to keep it alive it might (be)” – Big Tigger
Those were Big Tigger’s last words on the final episode of BET’s long-running rap video show, Rap City. We know Migos. We’ve heard Lil Uzi Vert. We can’t avoid their work. But where will we find the next wave of artists that are on the fringes of commercial relevance trying to emerge from the underground? Some would say SoundCloud, but that medium has become saturated with MC’s that have no business touching a microphone. The easy answer used to be Rap City on BET.
The show aired on BET from 1989 through 2008. This show was likely the first widespread dissemination of some of hip-hop culture’s main facets.
It began with an engaging host. While that face changed over the years, it was always someone who was an informed observer of the rap game. They were regular guys who could hold an interview and join a cypher with the guests.
The cypher became a big part of the show, as the guests (either rising or established MC’s) would enter a makeshift booth and spit one of their smoothest verses or an impromptu freestyle. To sweeten the deal, the host (typically Big Tigger) would occasionally join the rapper in the session. It harkened back to a time when MCs had to be ready to display their skill at a moment’s notice:
That cypher booth, and the setting in general was dimly lit and covered with posters and graffiti, another one of hip-hop’s key pillars. It felt like the type of place you’d go to see your favorite local act before they made it big. That included a second booth for an in-house DJ.
Leading in and out of breaks, the host would engage with different DJs. He could speak on where he spins records, what he’s currently listening to, and how he got into music. In an era with Khaled making motivational snaps, it’s easy to forget that DJs used to be very influential in the rap genre. They not only knew how to move a crowd, but they took pride in giving us exclusive tracks and artists that we couldn’t get anywhere else. There was additional clout added for bringing the underground to the light (See DJ Clue with Fabolous). They let us know what was hot before it became so.
Amid declining ratings, BET officially cancelled Rap City in October 2008. This was around the same time that music videos had all but lost their cultural importance (and budget) and could be easily found on YouTube before a scheduled television show. Rumors have it that the network fought to keep the show. Unfortunately numbers never lie, and not one of the time slot changes the show experienced helped the ratings to rise to a respectable level.
BET’s Rap City webpage is long gone. Besides a memory, it’s been reduced to a few clips you must search for on the channel’s site, all of which are at least a year old.
This may be me romanticizing the past again, but what I see is a potentially large culture influencer (BET) shunning that responsibility altogether. We can’t truly complain about the quality of the music we’re bombarded with if we don’t do anything to change it. If a channel with the words “black” and “entertainment” in its name doesn’t prioritize a variety of acts, they will likely never get shine.
While there are many rappers better, J. Cole and Kendrick Lamar have become the faces of lyricism in the 2010s. They’re rises in popularity only came with the promotion of major record labels and established regimes. It will be that much harder to find the next unique rapper if they don’t get the platform to meet the world in the way aspiring acts had with Rap City for 19 years. You can catch the entire last episode here.