Most music lovers consider JAY-Z’s 1996 debut Reasonable Doubt to be the peak of the newly-minted Hall of Famer’s 21-year recording resume. Jay himself has repeatedly called his super-lyrical, hyper-authentic rookie LP his best, rationalizing it’s probably because he spent his entire 26 years to that point preparing for it. Every album since, Jay’s simply re-introduced himself with the same quality product and proposition of authenticity that any stable business needs to survive in the marketplace.
The announcement of the June 30 release of 4:44, his thirteenth solo recording, brings hesitant excitement for anyone who still has musical faith in the man that calls himself Jay HOVA. Summer after summer since 1996, the 47-year-old icon has steadily elevated his legend above equally-skilled peers by creating music that inspires listeners to thrive; a branding scheme that makes his moves outside of the studio — from corporate endorsements to high-profile investments — as necessary to his success as sharp bars and fresh beats.
That’s a weird thing to process as a music lover. Just as basketball purists lament today’s AAU culture, which makes millennial players more fraternal than cutthroat, many fans desire heroes who do it for the love of the game, not the fortune and fame. But just as most NBA debates are centered around the power of a championship ring, the biggest stages in show business measure success by the industry’s official numbers. Any artist who wants to maintain the privilege to create must find a way to make it profitable.
Fair or fixed, there are no words that sound more reasonable than even math. So when Jay began dreaming of a career selling rhymes instead of weight, it only makes sense that he approached it with the same focus on winning that drove the athlete he most-often compares himself to: Michael Jordan. The idea of a championship in music can be considered anything from a number one debut to perfect reviews from critics, depending on who you ask. But how we remember artists should be more about how they make us feel personally than how they measure up in the world objectively. Jay’s endurance in hip hop’s heart is driven by the way his success makes everyone invested in the culture feel — anyone who can share his experiences or perspective feels like a shareholder in each win he boasts on tracks.
Like almost all performers, Jay’s creative ambition started out of necessity. The desire to make anything begins in the mind and is driven by the lack of tools that feel essential to bring it to reality. Real-world resourcefulness is required to produce any work of art, regardless of technical skill or intangible talent. To pull it off consistently is what separates the skilled from the genius.
Some 9-to-5’ers might see certain sorts of resourcefulness and self-reliance as lazy or greedy — outspoken critics of Jay’s TIDAL purchase or LeBron and KD’s “Decisions” are more upset with their own lack of agency than the star they are critiquing. But the master artist knows he must do the most with the least to be the best. The irony that drives barbershop debates and First Take rants is that those same creative skills also go a long way in the business world.
Jay was forced to partner with Dame Dash and Kareem “Biggs” Burke to form Roc-A-Fella Records. All three had different business skills from the years they spent navigating the 1980’s crack era. Their survival in a game much more intense than the music industry gave them the knowledge of self and determination needed to outperform peers who were being pimped by lazy executives with inherited positions. If Jay had won a traditional record deal from just one of the dozens of labels he pursued in the early 90’s, then one of the 96 rhymers he shouted out in his Songwriters Hall of Fame acceptance tweets would probably have beaten him to the honor of being the first rapper recognized by the body.
The Roc-A-Fella start-up’s main goal was launching Reasonable Doubt at a level that wouldn’t get them clowned in The Tunnel or on the block — a proposition that required extreme focus and stamina, but wasn’t impossible given their footing as natives of New York City, the Mecca of both hip hop culture and the American music industry. They rose to the occasion — debuting at #23 on the Billboard Top 200 albums chart, thanks in part to strategic placements in movie soundtracks and corporate campaigns. But their ear-to-the-street curation of collaborators and aesthetics is what set them apart in a way that created true brand loyalty instead of faddish adoration.
Thanks to a unique distribution deal with Priority Records and a silent investment from Biggs’ work in the streets, their creative choices weren’t limited by the label politics or executive opinions that come with traditional record deals. Their only bosses were their own budgets and imaginations — both of which stacked up favorably next to their peers. The Roc’s time in the streets bred and groomed them more thoroughly than the competition. The product attracted tasteful consumers with disposable income in the way that HBO or Apple have over the years. It took six straight summers of solo albums from Jay to definitively build Roc-A-Fella into a brand corporate partners could count on to deliver. By the end of the Roc’s first run in the music business, they realized they had all the tools to dominate the charts and (at least slightly) reverse the power dynamic that made their relentless hustling necessary in the first place.
Every Jay-Z album since Reasonable Doubt has re-packaged that underdog experience, starting with bold proclamations and surprise campaigns that attest to his highly-coveted independence. Jay was so forthcoming about the business transaction that he made his next three albums a trilogy — a dynasty-building blueprint borrowed from Hollywood blockbusters and royal families.
The fact that Jay’s latest project will be produced exclusively by beloved OG No I.D. immediately challenges skeptics who smirk the album off as a fadeaway cash-grab. He has always claimed to do it for the culture, and his moves throughout his two-decade evolution have been as consistent as his musical output. It’s why it’s impossible to fully separate the rapper’s talent on the mic from his skills as an entrepreneur.
There’s obviously some correlation between Jay and Jordan’s excellence. The best performers demand the most money for their services. But both Jay and MJ have been just as aggressive in their capitalistic ventures as they are when they’re performing their respective crafts. Their obsession with winning doesn’t stop when they’ve achieved their goal. Their dealings prove that they would have likely been financially successful no matter what field they entered — but it’s also clear that they became GOATs of their games because they approached it with the same passion that made them start competing in the first place.
Hustling’s an art, and show business is a business, but few individuals have bridged the two worlds as seamlessly as Shawn Carter.
Ever since Jay’s 2003 retirement — which was equally as deceptive as Jordan’s first retirement from basketball —the MC has been transparent in his quest for increasingly higher levels of achievement with every plateau he reaches. His 2006 comeback album, Kingdom Come, was mostly panned by critics, but featured some of his freest thoughts and greatest leaps — each dramatic whiff for the fence still struck as a reminder that Jigga had absolute creative control and executive authority over the entire project. He continued chasing the unprecedented level of independence with every project that followed.
2008’s American Gangster was an ambitious cross-branding effort with Hollywood that made his album the official soundtrack to an entire Denzel Washington film. It was also a much-welcomed return to the grittier musical roots he left in the 90’s as he pursued market domination in the bling era. Once again, American Gangster proved that Jay had found the perfect balance between corporate leverage and creative authenticity.
Next was The Blueprint 3 in 2009, which boasted Jay’s first #1 Billboard single, the Alicia Keys-assisted “Empire State Of Mind.” 2011’s Watch The Throne demonstrated a new peak of cultural influence as he co-opted the industry’s hottest rapper and producer to breathe a new air of relevance into his frequently-recycled lyrical content. By 2013’s Magna Carta: Holy Grail, his most recent, Jay had cracked yet another cheat-code in the music game — selling the first million copies of his album to Samsung before its release, ensuring it would go platinum the second it dropped. The launch of the streaming service TIDAL is his latest attempt at transcending the modern artist’s understanding of God level. He’s already found ways to earn almost a billion off clothes, shoes, movies, restaurants and other commercial venues. But if he can defeat the suits at Spotify and Apple Music in the streaming war, he will have transcended the gap we all try to place between the love of art and the business of money.
Beyond my admiration of his music, I cheer JAY-Z’s every endeavor and support financially when I can because my parents taught me to buy Black. The fact that Jay bought European company Aspiro in 2015 for $56 million and transformed it into a game-changing platform was enough to sell me. The fact that Sprint saw it wise to pay $200 million for a one-third share is further proof that it’s probably never a bad idea to invest your time or money in JAY-Z. But if there were an XXL Freshman cover when Jay was a rookie, he wouldn’t have been the top-billed or most-hyped — if he was even featured at all. Still, Jay’s sophomore campaign kicked off with the rapper gracing the cover of the magazine’s first official issue by himself in 1997.
So as we appreciate the careers of today’s hip hop artists, we should remember not to limit our scopes to Drake, Kendrick, J. Cole and Big Sean. Everyone from Chance the Rapper to Jay Electronica has found their lane to creative and financial independence in today’s industry because of the trail Jay has blazed from the booth to the boardroom. If you can’t respect that, your whole perspective could use a moment of clarity.
Art and business aren’t that different when you consider them objectively. In both fields, everyone steals from everyone, and only the strong survive. So can former Roc-A-Fella young gun Young Chris still be hurt that Jay co-opted and gentrified his early 2000’s whisper flow, cornering the market on his entire style and effectively ending his career? Now that he knows his name will go down in the history books as an inspiration to hip hop’s greatest songwriter, he should probably be over it. And is Joe Budden still mad about all those years Hov used his leverage at Def Jam to big brother him and keep his foot on the throat of the industry, crushing all perceived foes by any means necessary? If he’s ever rhymed along to The Blueprint’s “U Don’t Know” and found himself inspired enough to sell fire in hell, it’s no longer worth it to hold a grudge. From day one, JAY-Z has delivered in full on his value proposition, offering his life as the testimony of a man living to the limit and loving it a lot. Along the way he’s inspired millions to higher levels of achievement in every field imaginable. Hustling’s an art, and show business is a business, but few individuals have bridged the two worlds as seamlessly as Shawn Carter.
As nervous has I am to hear 4:44 and face the reality my favorite MC may have lost a step and a half, recent history and his current business moves tell me the Jigga Man could also be as sharp as ever. Realistically speaking, the man that promised on 2000’s “Change The Game” that he would never lose has to catch a brick eventually, right? But those who have followed his rise since day one know he could lose 92 at once and still come out on top. Some hustlers just can’t be knocked out of the game.
